Page 18 of His to Hunt

“Sure,” he rumbles, his voice so thick and sexy it makes my core clench.

He’s definitely attractive. There’s no denying that. He’s the kind of attractive that makes women forget their coffee order and men suddenly remember they need to stand up straighter.

His jaw is sharp, covered in just enough dark stubble to make him look dangerous instead of lazy. His nose looks like it’s been broken at least once, but somehow that only makes his face more striking. He has full lips, which seems unfair, because a man this attractive and intimidating shouldn’t also have a mouth that makes stupid thoughts sneak into my head.

Heat creeps up my neck when I lean over and pour his coffee. He watches my movements like he’s studying them. Memorizing them. Even the way my hand trembles. I have to stabilize it with my other hand so I don’t splatter his coffee while I’m pouring it.

“Would you like to hear the specials today, or do you just want to look over the menu?”

“I already know what I want,” he replies, his deep voice and dark gaze mesmerizing.

Suddenly, I understand why deer freeze when they’re caught in the headlights of a car. I can’t move. I’m not sure I can breathe. I’m just frozen here, waiting for him to say something. Waiting for my lips to move enough to form words.

A bead of sweat runs down my back, but I finally regain my composure and pull out my order pad.

“Two burgers, double fries,” he says, not looking away.

“You… must be really hungry today,” I go for a quip but I’m afraid I sound like I’m choking and swallow hard as I write down his order.

He keeps my eyes hostage as he growls, “You have no fucking idea.”

The way he says it. The look in his eyes. That doesn’t look like hunger for burgers, fries, or anything we serve in this diner. Or maybe I’m just so aroused I can’t think straight. The longer I stand at this table, the worse it seems to get. At least this time, there’s a good reason for it. I’m pretty sure this guy would make a nun rethink her life choices.

“How would you like your burgers cooked?” I ask, managing to remember my job.

“Bloody,” he says.

“Rare, got it,” I breathe out, quickly jotting it down. “Anything else for you today, sir?”

“I didn’t see anything else on the menu that interested me,” he answers me with an innuendo, his eyes roaming enough for me to blush again and have to rub my thighs together.

“Could I get your name?” I squeak, my fingers quivering as I tighten my grip on my pen. “For your order.”

“Victor,” he says.

“I’ll bring your order over as soon as it’s ready, Victor,” I whisper, the ache between my thighs getting so sharp I can’t hold in a light groan.

He notices. He definitely notices. His fingers tighten around the coffee cup as he lifts it to his gorgeous lips, and his nostrils flare. I’m embarrassed enough to be shaken out of my trance, so I hurry to the counter. I barely get Victor’s order keyed before Frank is nearly on top of me, breathing down my neck.

I can still feel Victor’s eyes on me from across the diner. I don’t look back. I don’t trust myself to look back. My body already embarrassed me once, and apparently, it’s looking for an encore.

“What’s with the guy at table ten? Did he ask you out?” Frank asks, being oddly nosey.

“Um, no, I just took his order,” I say, still feeling flustered.

“Well, smile more when you go back over to his table,” Frank instructs. “And if he does ask you out, don’t do that thing where you scare him off. At least show enough interest to get a good tip.”

I should be interested. Victor’s hotter than the coffee he’s drinking. He’s older than me, but truthfully, I’ve never had a problem with older guys. I just don’t want to date someone old enough to be my grandfather. Victor definitely doesn’t give off any grandfather vibes. Daddy vibes, maybe, but… Goddammit, I really need to get my head out of the clouds.

“Taryn, table seven is trying to flag you down,” Frank says, nudging me while I stand behind the counter in a daze. “They want more coffee.”

“Oh, sorry,” I mumble, reaching for my coffeepot before I realize I’m still holding it.

The sensation of being watched returns as I walk to table seven. I glance toward the kitchen, expecting to see Joe staring at my ass, but his attention is on the grill for a change. I force myself to look at Victor and nearly drop my coffeepot.

He’s switched to the other side of the table and he’s definitely watching me. He’s not subtle either. His dark gaze is following every move I make. I have to look away again when I feel another tremor between my legs.

“Sorry for the delay,” I say apologetically as I refill the coffee cups at table seven. “Anything else you need?”