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And a hard-on that won’t quit.
“You okay?” I set my jaw and fight the urge to throw her over my shoulder, march us out the door, and get my first taste of her in the back of my Mercedes.
“I mean...” She raises her head, narrowing her eyes. “I signed up for a date with an insurance salesman. What I got was a side show starring some retired MMA fighter with a white-knight complex. But yeah, you know. Doing fine.”
Retired? Is she digging at my age?
She gives me a sexy little glare and an a-okay sign with her cute fingers.
She was laughing earlier, true. But she’s not really laughing now. And I can’t blame her. Because she looks like the kind of woman who can and does fight her own battles.
Not that she’ll ever have to again.
Her temper only makes me harder. The tent in my pants must be visible from space, but I don’t give a shit. Let people look.
But, more importantly, let her look. She should know what’s coming for her very soon. Pun intended.
The room calms as I drop into the chair across from her in full man spread, licking my lips as I take in her soft sweet strawberry scent.
“I know how to fix this,” I offer as she raises her wide eyes to meet mine. Her long lashes flutter a few times as she takes a breath, her cheeks ripe and glowing pink.
“Not sure there’s a fix for this.” She smirks, looking around the room, her tongue slipping over her lush bottom lip.
Christ. My dick weeps in pain. “You’re going to let me try.”
“That doesn’t sound like a question.”
I lean my forearms on the table. “It’s not.”
Then I smile, reaching across and slipping her fingers into mine. I want to know what it will feel like holding her hand when we’re standing at the front of the church saying our vows.
It feels perfect.
Chapter Four
Tor
“Istand corrected. Things feel very fixed,” she says as she takes the last bites of the restaurant’s special blood orange and chocolate Crème Brulé and sips the Satin Angel drink I ordered to go with it. “Nothing like a little sugar buzz and Frangelico to right all the wrongs of a bad date.”
I reach across the table and run the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip, pulling it down as I go, pausing to meet her eyes for a beat longer than necessary. Then I withdraw my hand and bring my thumb to my mouth.
"You won’t have to worry about having any more of those,” I add, watching her eyes round as I suck it between my lips, holding it there for a moment while shock and uncertainty flicker across her face.
Reluctantly, I allow her to withdraw her thumb and chuckle when she looks at it, holding it up like a hitchhiker on the side of the highway.
“I’ve tasted the Creme Brule before,” I tell her. “It never tasted this good.”
She considers that for a moment, sitting up in her seat and adjusting her dress. She’s impressively nonplussed considering the night she’s had and that a stranger just sucked her thumb into his mouth.
The heat along the tops of her cheeks and the way her eyes keep wandering to my mouth, my chest, and the spot on the table right above where my cock is trying its damnedest to get to her is the only signal she’s offering that the evening is moving in a positive direction.
“Do you actually say things like that to women? Because, that other lady sure beat it out of here in a hurry. So, no offense, but you are already suspect.”
She shakes her head, the little loops of her hair pinned in place, bobbing as she does. She slips the spoon covered in the last bits of the dessert upside down onto her tongue. Her lips close around it, then she pulls it out so slowly I nearly whip cream in my fucking boxers.
“You, sir, are suspect.” She points the spoon at me accusingly, but all it does is draw my eyes to her chest. Her creamy, jiggly tits billow out of the low neckline, and they are a perfect handful. My dick is already throbbing and drooling for that candy coating I know is hot and slick between her thick thighs.
I don’t even bother telling her I’ve never said anything like that to a woman before in my life. I let her have her little sassy moment. I’ll give her the power.
