chuckled. “Yes, I told him.”
“Good. Now, what would you two like to drink?”
“Beer is fine for me,” Randi said.
“Same here,” Quasar said, looking around. This was a nice room that provided privacy.
When Marlon had left them alone, Quasar glanced across the table at Randi and quirked a brow. “Little Randolph? Uncle Marlon?”
The cutest smile curved her lips. “Yes. Before I was born, when Uncle Marlon was in his twenties or so, my father defended him in a homicide case. Dad was able to prove it was self-defense. The Farentinos adopted Dad as one of their own, and when I was born, Uncle Marlon began calling me Little Randolph, after Dad. His daughter, Avona, is my age and is an attorney at my father’s law firm. His son, Damon, has his own seafood restaurant, and it’s a very popular place in South Miami Beach.”
Quasar nodded. “Marlon looks like he ought to be a ship captain.”
“He was a fisherman for years and still loves the sea. I’ve gone out with him and his family on his huge boat.”
“You must come here a lot for him to consider this your room.”
She smiled. “At one time I did, while attending college at Howard and Georgetown. Whenever I needed to escape, this room became my study room, my eating room and, on occasion, my nap room. Uncle Marlon put a cot in that corner for me to use whenever I needed it. And whenever I could, I helped out on the weekends, waiting tables.”
At that moment, a waiter appeared with their beers. Quasar watched as a slow, delightful smile touched the corners of Randi’s lips. “After all that walking we did today, I need this.”
She lifted the ice-cold mug to her lips and took a sip. Then her tongue licked the sudsy residue from around her mouth. Quasar’s breath hitched in his throat as he watched her. The lingering erection he’d gotten when her body had been pressed close to his earlier was now beginning to throb all over again.
Quasar knew he needed to think about anything but her mouth right now, so after taking a sip of his own beer, he said, “Earlier, when you introduced your family at the zoo, did I misunderstand or did you say Haywood was your sister and Trey was your brother?”
“No, you didn’t misunderstand. Both my parents were married previously, and Haywood and Trey were products of their first marriages. So I’m sister and brother to both. While Haywood and I were growing up, Trey didn’t live with us. He lived in California with his mother and her second husband.”
“They have a beautiful bunch of kids. All of them.”
Another smile touched Randi’s lips. “Yes, they do, and I love all of them to pieces. Aren’t the twins adorable? I got to name them,” she said proudly. She took another sip of her beer. “Are there any little ones in your family?”
“None that I know of.” If she found his response strange, she didn’t ask him to elaborate. He appreciated that, because the topic of his family was one he preferred not to discuss.
* * *
IT HAPPENED AGAIN.
Randi sensed a high degree of pain and sadness within Quasar whenever he spoke of his family. She couldn’t help wondering why. He’d gotten quiet since diving into his bucket of oysters. All the members of her family were seafood lovers, and she’d seen them eat live oysters many times. But there was something about watching Quasar that spread intense sexual heat through her. She’d never thought that shucking oysters could be erotic until now.
She watched as he expertly used the oyster knife to open the oyster, and when he placed it to his lips and sucked the oyster into his mouth, she pressed her thighs together where she felt a deep throb between her legs.
“Something’s wrong?”
She blinked when he asked the question, and she knew she’d been caught staring. “No, nothing is wrong,” she said, turning her attention to her plate of crab cakes, fries and coleslaw. And because Uncle Marlon knew how much she liked his fried shrimp, he’d given her a huge side order.
“The oysters are good,” Quasar said, taking another sip of his beer.
“I told you Uncle Marlon serves only the best.”
“Do you like oysters?”
“I like all kinds of seafood. You can’t know Marlon Farentino and not do so. I ate my first piece of gator here. It wasn’t bad.”
“Here. Taste.”
Before Randi knew what he was doing, Quasar had scooped some oyster into a spoon to feed to her. Automatically her lips parted, and she sucked the oyster into her mouth, knowing he was watching her. She then took her tongue and licked around her lips. She couldn’t help noticing his gaze followed every movement of her tongue.
“Do you want to try some of my crab cakes?” she offered.
“No thanks, but you can feed me a fry.” When she reached for her fork, a crooked smile touched his lips. He said, “Use your fingers.”
His words sent her already throbbing center skyrocketing. The air between them was sizzling. And why did her mind pick that moment to remember how her bottom had felt plastered against him downstairs earlier? There was no mistaking his huge erection pressing against her.
Knowing he was waiting, she lifted what she thought was the longest fry between her fingers and leaned toward him, directing her hand to his mouth. It opened. She slid the fry inside and nearly moaned when his tongue came into contact with her fingers. It had been deliberate. She was sure of it, and it only made the sexual awareness between them that much more keen.
“Thanks,” he said, and that single word spoken in a deep, husky voice washed over her like warm honey.
She stared at him, breathless. Hot. Totally turned on. “You’re welcome.”
She nervously ran her tongue over her lips, tempted to lick the spot on her finger where his tongue had touched her, as well. Just looking into his eyes all but told her he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. But she knew neither of them was ready for that part of a relationship.
Deciding they needed to talk about anything that wouldn’t stir the intense attraction between them, she asked, “So, Quasar, what’s your favorite sports team?”
* * *
IT WAS CLOSE to eleven when Quasar walked Randi to her car. After sharing a meal at Marlon’s, he’d suggested they take in a movie. Convincing herself that the new James Bond movie was something she truly wanted to see, she’d agreed with his idea.
It had been a unique experience for her to sit in the theater, sharing popcorn with Quasar and pretending to watch the big screen, while her entire focus was on him. She had sat there remembering how he’d fed her a few of his oysters at Marlon’s and she’d done the same with him and her fries. And the more they’d done so, the more the air surrounding them became electrified to the point that temptation, the likes of which she’d never felt before, had rocked through her veins.
After the movie, they’d stopped at a café for coffee
