In a desperate try to forget her ex husband, She started to go on dates. Using some online dating websites, she was finally able to match with a man and go out for dinner, several days after her divorce. "You're very beautiful, Liza," her date, Mark, whispered, reaching across the candlelit table to brush her hand. His touch was polite. It was safe. It was boring.
Liza closed her eyes, imagining Julian's touch instead—rough, possessive, and demanding. She craved the way Julian would catch her jaw and tilt her head back, his thumb pressing into her lip until she gasped. She found herself subconsciously Arching her back, her nipples hardening against the fabric of her dress as she realized Mark's conversation was white noise. She wanted to be claimed, not "dated." She excused herself to the restroom, leaning against the cold tile, her breath coming in shallow hitches. She slipped a hand beneath her skirt, a desperate, fleeting caress that only made the emptiness worse. She needed the fire, not the flickering candle in front of her. As she walked back to the table, her phone buzzed with a notification: an invitation to the Sterling Gala. Julian would be there.