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Unless there was a very special occasion, I didn’t go to restaurants like that. And I hadn’t been back home long enough to find such an occasion. But if Bennett wanted to spend some of his money—hard-earned, not handed-down now that I knew him better—I was completely okay with that.
“I thought since you liked Italian, you’d like this place.”
“Something you should know about me, Broussard. I love all food. Especially the expensive kind cooked by fancy chefs.”
He glanced at my body again. “Where does it all go?”
“My ass,” I promptly replied.
Even though he couldn’t see said ass, he glanced at my lap and then focused back on the road. “Don’t remind me,” he muttered, a flush of pink cresting his cheekbones as he shifted in his seat, unable to disguise the big bulge in those nicely tailored pants.
Ireallyliked this new game. Tempting Bennett Broussard. Now that I’d decided I wanted more than fake kisses, I was ready togo for itas Em suggested. I just had to find the right moment to tell him. This was going to be an interesting night.
Chapter Twelve
~BENNETT~
I couldn’t decideif I was fucking ecstatic or terrified at how hot Betty looked tonight.
No woman had ever made mewantthem like Betty did. Want to be with her, talk with her, or remove her dress…with my teeth, then fuck her senseless.
But this wasn’t a real date, so I reined it in as we were seated at our table near the window overlooking the Vermilion River that wound behind the restaurant. Still, the fact that she’d put some obvious extra effort into her appearance for me was encouraging.
After ordering a bottle of red wine, a Pinot Noir since I noticed she liked that at Italian Night, we both settled in to look over the menu. Of course, I was literally lookingoverthe menu to stare at her.
Fucking hell, she was gorgeous.
All that silky fair skin, her shiny red hair waving gently over her shoulders and breasts. There was no way she was wearing a bra in that dress, which wasn’t what I should be wondering right now. Because my cock was painfully hard enough.
And that dress. It’s not that she wore baggy clothes or hid her figure, but the way that material hugged her just right had me literally salivating. The deep vee pointed to all the places I wanted to taste.
I couldn’t drag my eyes away from her.
“I would ask what’s good here, but everything looks delicious.”
“Sure does.” My quick reply came out a low rumble.
Her eyes came up. Dark sapphire. My heart pumped harder. Every nerve came alive at a flicker of her attention. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to be inside this woman. The only one who ever made me lose my cool, kept me awake at night, haunted every waking step of every single day.
One reddish-brown eyebrow arched haughtily. “You need to actually look at the menu to order your meal, Broussard.”
“I’d rather look at you.” It came out automatically. I couldn’t help it.
I usually behaved more conservatively and more gentlemanly with women. Or even held a little of my interest back, just in case it wasn’t reciprocated. I preferred not to come on too strong. But Betty cracked me wide open and made me want to tell her everything. To be her everything.
Her response was a sultry smile.
Very encouraging.
“Here we are,” said the waiter, delivering the wine glasses and pouring each of us a glass. “Would you like a few more minutes? Or can I get you an appetizer?”
“Do you like oysters?” I asked her.
She nodded.
“We’ll have the oven-roasted oysters,” I told the waiter, never letting my eyes leave her. “And a few more minutes on the main course.”
He disappeared, saying something I didn’t hear. It didn’t matter. Nothing could take my attention away at this moment. We sipped our wine, both of us suddenly quiet. I knew why I’d gone silent.
