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My face flames as my tummy gives another embarrassing growl, but Blake merely orders, "Eat."
I don't try to feign a lack of hunger. Instead, I eagerly obey and dig in like I haven't eaten in a week.
Actually, I haven't eaten much in a week—just cans of soup mostly. I can't really remember the last time I had a burger and fries.
Blake watches every bite I take as he inhales his own food. His eyes never leave me. I feel like I'm the center of attention, and it's not just because everyone is staring at me. It's Blake
He's gorgeous. I can't stop thinking about it. In fact, I don't even want to try to stop.
I don't know how someone can simply look at a person and make them feel so protected and safe. I might be stupid, but I can smell the testosterone and dominance coming off this guy in waves. He's just oozing power, and I want to bask in it.
And then my body reacts. I blush, the color rising all the way up to my roots. I'm almost sure I'm turning the same shade of pink as the hot pink shirt the chick with the red hair and the glasses at the table next to us is wearing.
I bow my head and stare down at my plate as I continue to eat as slowly as I can.
I'm not sure why, but I don't want this to end. I'm not even sure what this is, but I don't want it to end. I want to sit here with Blake and not have to worry about anything other than whether or not I'm going to finish eating this entire burger. I want to sit here with him and muse over the fact that he could probably bench press me.
I'm not sure how long I sit there with my head down, but I know it's too long by the time I look up.
Blake is staring at me with a concerned—almost angry-looking—furrow in his brow. "What are you running from, dollface?"
I consider trying to keep my business to myself and denying that I'm running from anything, but something about this man pulls the truth straight out of me.
"My stepdad."
Blake growls, his hands flexing where he's got his forearms laid on the table.
"Where you planning on going?" he asks me, his voice sounding taut.
"I don't know," I whisper.
His fingers flex again, and his jaw hardens as another growl rumbles up out of that big chest.
Why does that make me clench my legs together?
"Well, I do," he states.
"You do?" I ask, my voice breathless and my eyes wide.
"Yes," his gaze latches onto me as his eyes sweep over me possessively.
"You're coming with me."
CHAPTERTHREE
Blake
Christ Almighty,this little girl might give me a heart attack. She's so motherfucking innocent. I'd bet my left nut there's never been a cock in her sweet cunt. She doesn't have a clue the stir she's caused coming out dressed in those little shorts, that little teenage virgin pussy of hers practically a siren call to every male within a mile radius.
Christ.
This girl.
She's not even trying to be sexy. She has no idea that entire ensemble she's wearing is purecome fuck me.
She's not wearing makeup. She's not trying to get attention from anyone. What she's wearing is pureher.
As I sit down across from her, the only thought in my head is to get her to trust me so I can take her home with me, and then we'll hammer out the details after I claim her.
