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Isit back in my chair, arms crossed, watching them all dig into the food like ravenous animals. The best part? None of them have a clue what they’re actually eating. The creamed corn is a joke, my little secret ingredient hidden in plain sight. I almost want to laugh when Jason shovels it down like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. My cum is all over their plates, and they’re too busy chatting to notice.
It’s fucking hilarious.
Emily, though, she’s the real entertainment. She’s practically throwing herself at me. Making sure to sit right next to me, brushing her hand against my arm, laughing a little too loudly at things I don’t even say. But she’s not the one holding my attention.
No. My eyes are locked on my girl.
She hasn’t touched her plate. Not really, anyway. She’s too focused on how Emily is draped over me. Her pretty little face is a mask of forced politeness, but I see through it. I see the fire in her eyes, the way her lips are pressed into a tight line. She is fucking pissed, and fuck if that doesn’t get my dick hard.
I fucking love it.
“Is anyone else getting this extra salty vibe from the corn?” Jason comments, spearing another forkful into his mouth.
Amaya chuckles, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “It’s got a kick, but I like it.”
I bite back a laugh, keeping my face neutral.Salty, huh?
“I think it’s delicious,” Sloan says, offering me a smile. “Rhett, you really outdid yourself.”
“Yeah, Rhett,” Emily purrs, leaning in too close again, her stank breath warm against my ear. “I’d love to taste more of what you’ve got to offer.”
Cara’s eyes flicker. That dark, jealous glint shining brighter than I’ve ever seen before. She’s doing her best to keep her cool, but I know my girl too well. I can see the way her hands grip the silverware tighter, the way her jaw clenches.
My little nightmare is holding back, but just barely.
“Maybe save some for the rest of us,” I say with a smirk, pulling my arm away from Emily, giving Cara a wink. Emily’s drunk, sloppy, and irritating, but she is useful for one thing. Poking the bear.
And my girl? She’s the fucking bear right now, pacing in her cage and about to snap.
“Do you want more wine?” Cara suddenly asks, her voice sweet but her eyes dangerous as she looks at Emily.
Emily, already on her third glass of wine, waves her off. “Oh, I’m good. Besides, Rhett’s got me covered if I find myself needing a top-up.”
Oh shit, this is going to be fun.
The tension at the table is thick, and I’m loving every second of it. Sloan is talking to Alex, who is oblivious to the war between Cara and Emily, while Amaya and Jason share some private jokes. But my focus is split between my girl's fury and the hardening dick in my pants.
The way she’s trying to hold it together, trying to pretend she’s not bothered, is driving me fucking insane.
“Cara, are you okay?” Sloan asks, noticing the tightness in her voice.
“I’m fine,” Cara says through gritted teeth, plastering on a fake smile. “Just enjoying the meal. After all, Rhett and I did spend all day cooking it. Together.”
Yeah, enjoying the meal.
Sure. I’m enjoying watching you lose it,my little nightmare.
“So,” Alex chimes in, breaking the tension with a lazy grin. “Where did you two meet again?”
I lean back, exchanging a glance with my girl. “Halloween party. Things just clicked.”
Cara shifts in her seat, the tension coiling tighter. Her eyes keep darting to Emily, who’s now got her hand resting on my thigh like she owns me. The bitch is fucking clueless, of course, but unfortunately for her, my girl is not.
“Oh, that sounds romantic,” Emily giggles, her voice grating on my nerves. “I bet it was like fate or something.”
“Or something,” Cara says, her tone sharp enough to cut. She’s about to snap, I can feel it, and fuck I am so ready to watch it happen.
I let out a low chuckle, returning my attention to Cara, who looks like she’s barely holding on. The storm building behind her eyes has me excited. It’s the same look she had that night at the café when we first locked eyes. That look of possession, of claiming me as hers.
