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“Great choice.” I stack my menu on top of hers. “I think I’ll have the same.”
“You’re so original.”
“Hey, my date has good taste.” I suddenly stand and slide into the seat beside her.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re on a date, right? I like the idea of sitting next to my date rather than across from her.”
“Hmmm. You just don’t seem like the dating type to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s not forget that the first time I met you, you had sent a young blonde woman into a fit of crying rage.”
“Ah-ha.” I nod. “I knew you’d throw that in my face again eventually.”
“It’s not throwing it in your face to point out that you have a history of being a dick.”
“Touché. You’re not like Amy, you know.”
“Oh, I know that. Believe me.” She slaps her hip, obviously referencing their width.
I frown. “Knock it off.”
Her eyes widen and she blushes. “Sorry. Habit.”
And I’m determined to break her of the habit.
“So why am I not like Amy?” she asks.
“Because this thing between us—whatever it is between us—is not casual. Not to me.”
Even I’m surprised by my words, but the amazing thing is, I don’t feel the need to take them back. Instead, I reach out and take her hand in mine. She cocks her head then smiles warmly, the kind of smile that launches my cock into a jean-clad erection.
I shift against the leather bench seating and try to adjust myself without making too much of a scene. I clear my throat as I offer her a simple smile right back, but my imagination betrays me. I imagine having my way with her right here in the middle of this busy diner, or perhaps somewhere a little more private, like a bathroom in the back.
I drop her hand and place my hand on her inner thigh. She moans softly as I inch toward her pussy, but then she lays her hand over mine.
Her hand is saying stop, but her eyes are screaming, fuck me.
From behind me, I hear the clattering of plates and out of the corner of my eye, I see our server carrying our food to our table.
“Food’s here.” I pull away from her and turn my attention to the middle-aged server with glasses and stringy black hair. “Thank you,” I say as she slides the two plated meals onto the table with guacamole dripping from the sides of the hamburger. “Now, Dani Cross, prepare for your life to change.”
* * *
The lights darken, bass thumps from the speakers adorning the walls on either side of us, and the crowd grows silent as the film begins. Some stupid horror film about a man killing kids in their dreams, sounds kind of familiar but there’s not exactly an original thought left in Hollywood these days.
Lightning flashes across the screen, illuminating the theater, illuminating Dani’s pale, beautiful face. There’s something so maddening about being in a theater with a sexy ass woman in the dark, surrounded by people. It’s the sense of voyeurism; you go to the theater to watch movies, but also to watch people.
It’s one of my favorite hobbies in my spare time.
Right now, all I can focus on is Dani and how badly I want her.
Fuck, I think to myself, my erection pulsing against my jeans. I’m not going to be able to wait until the end of the date, the end of the night. I need Dani, and I need her now.
I pull up the cup holder between Dani and myself. She eyes me curiously for a moment before turning her attention back to the screen. I throw one arm around her shoulder, which she doesn’t fight, and pull her closer to me.
