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harder.
    Harder.
    She barely manages to muffle a groan. Her brown eyes fill with pleasure. They stay locked to mine.
    "In the bathroom," she breathes. "I want to suck you off."
    Fuck. My cock is already hard as granite. Not gonna say no to that.
    I nod. My lips find her ear and I suck hard on the lobe. "If you keep your voice down."
    Her groan is half agony, half pleasure. Still, she nods. Her posture relaxes. Her expression fills with bliss.
    No more heaviness.
    Only desire. Need. Affection.
    I check to make sure the coast is clear, then I go for the kill. My fingers thrust into her. My thumb rubs her.
    My lips meet hers. She groans into my mouth. She's almost there. Her thighs press together. Then the knees.
    Her back arches. She breaks free of the kiss, brings her mouth to my ears, and whisper-moans my name.
    Then she's there, sinking her teeth into her lip as pleasure spreads over her face. With the next motion of my hand, she comes.
    I watch the orgasm spread over her face. I'll never get tired of that. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
    It takes a minute for her to settle. She crosses her legs. Her lips curl into a smile as she nods to the single-stall bathroom in the corner of the restaurant.
    "My turn," she whispers.
    I'm not about to deny my future wife what she wants.

Chapter Seven
    ––––––––
    M iles
    Meg is the first out of the bathroom. I take a minute to clean up and collect my senses, but I'm still nearly incoherent.
    I wash my hands a few more times for good measure.
    The damn things are shaking.
    This is as bad as the proposal. I've never given a fuck what anyone thought of me before. I don't know how to deal with how badly I need her parents’ approval.
    I wipe my hands and adjust my shirt and slacks. The business casual look isn't as bad as I figured it would be. Between the graduations, the engagement parties, and the weddings, a collared shirt and slacks are getting to be a habit.
    No time to waste. I take a steady breath and step out of the bathroom. Meg is standing in front of the restaurant, her cheeks still flushed, her updo coming undone, talking to her parents.
    They don't seem to notice how just-fucked she looks.
    Meg smiles and nods to the table. We meet there.
    Her cheeks are still red. "Miles made us reservations. We already got a table, but we thought we'd meet you in front. We only ordered drinks. Iced tea. You know he doesn't drink, and I don't really—"
    "Sure, sweetheart." Susan, Meg's mom, turns to me. "Miles. It's always nice to see you. Even if it's because you've whisked my daughter to Sin City for some illicit rendezvous." She hugs me hello.
    "Nothing illicit about a wedding, Dr. Smart," I say.
    She smiles the way she does every time I call her Dr. Smart.
    "Just Susan. You can call me Mom if you want. But I understand if you don't. I know your mother—" She presses her lips together. "I know the situation isn't ideal."
    I nod and turn to Meg's dad, Douglass. "And you too, Sir." Damn, it's usually easy for me to impress people. I've seen a lot of Meg's parents but I'm failing my usual smooth and seamless thing. Douglass is a man of few words. And a diehard Angels fan. "Hell a season the Angels had, huh?"
    Douglass lights up with a smile. He jumps into a long explanation of the season and the playoffs. Meg squeezes my hand, nodding as she pretends to follow along. Susan does the same, only she squeezes her husband's hand.
    "Sweetie, why don't we sit down? I'm famished," Susan says.
    Douglass nods. He gets the enough sports message and takes his seat. The rest of us follow.
    My wife-to-be hides behind her menu. Her eyes scan the page. Then her fingers are circling the salmon entree.
    My lips curl into a smile. "Why do you pretend you'll order something besides salmon?"
    "I might," she insists. "I'm still deciding."
    "What will you order?" I ask.
    "Uh..." Her eyes go to the menu. "Well, the pasta sounds good."
    "The lemon garlic salmon pasta?" I ask.
    Susan