JR by HP

cost of a single entree.
    He left her to her thoughts, though she sensed him studying her out of the corner of his eye. With weakened, if not obliterated, barriers, Rebecca should have attempted to shield herself from his prying eyes but she couldn’t shake herself from contentment long enough to care.
    It wasn’t until he rounded the hood and opened her door to hand her out of the car that she realized they’d arrived. She caught the valet’s wink and could have sworn she heard him say, “Nice one,” a moment before Kurt tucked a crisp, large-denomination bill into the young man’s hand.
    Then, a second man addressed them from the entrance to the restaurant. “Dr. Foster, how nice to see you tonight.”

    Without asking his preference, the host showed them to a quiet corner booth as sheltered from the main dining area as possible in the busy restaurant. The man had mistaken her for one of Kurt’s playmates. She tugged on her rumpled suit jacket, trying to restore some semblance of order. Kurt directed her to the bench seat on one side of the table, courteous as ever, before taking his place across from her.
    Modern-styled geometric paper lanterns lit the restaurant. Dark wood tables, tarnished copper sculptures and slate tiles lent the room an ambiance rife with male strength. She felt sheltered and diminutive in comparison. Kurt, however, fit right in.
    The atmosphere suited him. She flushed with appreciation as the flickering lights danced in his eyes and glanced off his glossy charcoal hair. When she realized he peered back at her with equal intensity, she looked away, embarrassed.
    Breaking the long, but not awkward, silence he reached across the table to wrap his fingers around hers, pressing her hand against his strong palm. “Trust me to order for you? I come here enough to know all the best dishes.”
    “Of course, Dr…Kurt.”
    One side of his mouth kicked up in a smile over her correction. She couldn’t prevent an answering grin. “It does take some getting used to, you know? I’ve always thought of you as my boss.”
    Something flashed in his eyes.
    She might have figured it for hurt if it hadn’t been such an obvious point.
    Before he could respond, though, the waiter arrived. Kurt made his selection without consulting the menu.
    They slipped into their usual easy companionship, avoiding the discomfort she feared would linger after their passion had faded. But now, as a pleasant side effect of their intimacy, their roles were less formal.
    He only mentioned the study directly once.
    They laughed together when a rogue noodle escaped her fork and splashed a few drops of sauce on the back of her hand. Before she could wipe it off, Kurt brought it to his mouth and licked the savory paste from her skin.
    She gulped.
    “Are you okay with this, Becca? I know some of what happened today might have shocked you.”
    She simply nodded, the words stuck in her throat.
    “Good.” He wrapped her hand around her fork again then smiled. “I can’t always tell you why I’m doing the things I am during the study but I’m glad you’re enjoying the experience.”
    She wanted him to continue, to discover the extent of his desire but the waiter visited again to refill the empty breadbasket. When he left, the moment had passed.
    Dinner flew by in a blur as they consumed the delicious meal. The waiter removed their empty plates then placed two glasses of dessert wine before them. Rebecca hesitated. The most she’d ever drunk consisted of a few beers at one of the frat parties she’d gone to last year. Even then, she’d only done it to get her courage up to have sex with her date. She hadn’t cared for the way it stole her self-control.
    Nonetheless, she could use some help staying relaxed right now so she imbibed a cautious sip. The wine trickled across her tongue, cool and sweet. She swirled it around her mouth before swallowing.
    “This is great, it’s so smooth.” Her tongue reached out to lick a drop off