Chapter 10Black Coffee
It was the last Friday in August. The traffic was heavier than usual because it was the Labor Day weekend, and it took me a while to find a parking spot.
Quinn was already sitting at our table at Raphael’s, looking cool and relaxed.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s all right.”
The waiter came over and poured me a glass of white wine. I raised an eyebrow.
Quinn smiled at me. “I’ve already ordered. Oysters for our appetizer, then linguine pescatore. I hope you don’t mind?”
“That’s fine by me.” Watching that man eat oysters—he’d tip his head back, let the succulent flesh slide down his throat, and swallow—that had to be one of the most erotic things I’d ever seen.
This evening was no exception, and when the appetizer arrived, I made sure he had the lion’s share. My gaze
