Chapter 4
Tor
“Istand corrected. Things feel very fixed,” she says as she takes the last bites of the restaurant’s special blood orange and chocolate Crème Brulé and sips the Satin Angel drink I ordered to go with it. “Nothing like a little sugar buzz and Frangelico to right all the wrongs of a bad date.”
I reach across the table and run the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip, pulling it down as I go, pausing to meet her eyes for a beat longer than necessary. Then I withdraw my hand and bring my thumb to my mouth.
”You won’t have to worry about having any more of those,” I add, watching her eyes round as I suck it between my lips, holding it there for a moment while shock and uncertainty flicker across her face.
Reluctantly, I allow her to withdraw her thumb and chuckle when she looks at it, holding it up like a hitchhiker on the side of the highway.
“I’ve tasted the Creme Brule before,” I tell her. “It never tasted this good.”
She considers that for a moment, sitting up in her seat and adjusting her dress. She’s impressively nonplussed considering the night she’s had and that a stranger just sucked her thumb into his mouth.
The heat along the tops of her cheeks and the way her eyes keep wandering to my mouth, my chest, and the spot on the table right above where my cock is trying its damnedest to get to her is the only signal she’s offering that the evening is moving in a positive direction.
“Do you actually say things like that to women? Because, that other lady sure beat it out of here in a hurry. So, no offense, but you are already suspect.”
She shakes her head, the little loops of her hair pinned in place, bobbing as she does. She slips the spoon covered in the last bits of the dessert upside down onto her tongue. Her lips close around it, then she pulls it out so slowly I nearly whip cream in my fucking boxers.
“You, sir, are suspect.” She points the spoon at me accusingly, but all it does is draw my eyes to her chest. Her creamy, jiggly tits billow out of the low neckline, and they are a perfect handful. My dick is already throbbing and drooling for that candy coating I know is hot and slick between her thick thighs.
I don’t even bother telling her I’ve never said anything like that to a woman before in my life. I let her have her little sassy moment. I’ll give her the power.
This once.
It only makes me want her more, and the last half-hour watching her eat the dessert only solidified her fate, even if she has no idea.
The way she took each bite like it was life-changing was better than any porn ever made. I’ve never found porn that enticing, really. But this girl’s my own personal Pornhub.
Fuck.
I don’t even know her name.
I start to ask, but there’s a hard slap on my shoulder and I spin my head, ready to lay out that fucker I escorted out, thinking he may have gotten into some liquid courage and come back to gather up some of his pride.
Instead, there’s Cyrus with a snarky grin. “Hi.” He snaps his tongue behind his teeth, extending his hand to…
Fuck, I didn’t get to ask her name.
“I’m Cyrus, this ugly fucker’s brother.”
She takes his hand, her eyes narrowing as they shake, then she pulls away. “I see the psychotic resemblance in your eyes.”
Cyrus nods, looking down at me as I silently tell him to fuck the hell off right now.
“Not inaccurate,” he answers as I shove his hand off me, threatening him with a hard stare.
He responds by taking a step back. He knows me better than anyone, so I don’t have to tell him he’s about to get an ass kicking for him to know it’s coming.
“Just wanted to tell you I’m heading out to see grandma. Wondered if you had a message for her?” Cyrus nods toward the door. “Noticed your date from earlier didn’t stick around.”
“Fuck off, brother.” He’s pushing the line and if it wouldn’t make her get up and ball it out of here, I’d knock that fucking smirk off his face.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He bends in a little bow toward the angel across the table, then shakes his head at me. “I’ll talk to you later. Before I get to Gran, I’m gonna go chase down some asshole who skated out on his bill. Dumbass. Sis had his name on the reservation. And now, I have his address. So, off I go. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
With that, he’s moving toward the door, whistling and skipping like he’s on his way to fucking prom.
“Well,” she says, drawing my eyes back as she does this little lip-popping thing she’s done a couple of times already. So fucking cute. Then the lines in her forehead furrow as if she’s suddenly remembered something unpleasant.
Her happy focus evaporates, and I hate it. Something’s bothering her, and I’m not having it.
“What’s wrong?” I demand, leaning elbows on the table, the knuckles of my fists meeting under my chin.
I’m her keeper, her problem solver, and whatever happens to her, happens to me.
“Nothing’s wrong.” She shakes her head, eyes down as she tries to put on a smile, but it’s not real. I can already tell her real smile from her bullshit one, and this one is full of it.
“Don’t lie. To me. Ever.”
I enunciate each word like a Mafia Don letting his minions know, one step out of line, and they’re sleeping with the fucking fishes. I’m not sure it’s the right move, because I see a flash of fear pass over her face.
But I have to fucking remind myself that to her, I’m a stranger—even if to me, I’m already designing her ten-year anniversary ring and a trip to Cyprus for a month-long stay at our second home.
I need to dial it back.
“Come on,” I say, trying on some gentleness. I retrieve her hand, and her eyes come back up. Fuck, I could fall into them right now and never escape. “What’s wrong?”
“I just…” She scans the room. “I need to find the manager.”
“Why? Is something wrong? Do you feel sick?” Panic needles up the back of my neck. The thought she could be sick ignites a fear inside me I can’t ever remember having before.
She wriggles in her seat, a shift in her demeanor. A little quirk above her left eyebrow.
“It’s just, that was like…a date. And he was supposed to pay... and I… I need to get the manager to let me go to my car and see if my wallet—”
So now we’re full circle.
“You think I’d offer to pay for your drink and not your dinner?” I growl, and she falls silent, staring at me like she’s considering making a run for it.
Give it a try, little one. I love a good chase.
I should have pre-empted this. She never has to worry about paying for another thing, not here or anywhere else in her life.
“Come with me.” I push up from my chair and reach for her other hand before she can protest.
“Oh no you don’t. I’m not going to dine and dash with you, mister. I have to pay the bill. He ordered the tasting menu. For one.” She tugs her hand from mine, then pokes two fingers toward her eyes before swinging them back at me. “See, I knew you were suspect!”
Her half-cocked smile tells me if I’m going to push it, she’d go full on with me and head for the door, ride or die all the way, but that’s not my plan.
“Come on.” I’m on my feet, grabbing her bag off the back of the chair.
I secure it over my shoulder, because I’ve known enough women in my life to know they will follow their purse across hot coals, so it’s insurance in case she thinks she’s getting away from me.
I start toward the back of the restaurant and like I planned, she’s on my heels in an instant, her eyes on my new accessory.
“Wait.” She stalls a few steps from the table, drawing more glances from the patrons who are clearly waiting for the second act to start. “You’re not a cop, are you? Oh my God! You’re like…security here, aren’t you?”
She regards me from behind those long dark lashes. I love the fact that she’s wearing one little gold hoop on one ear and a ladybug earring on the other, and don’t fucking get me started on the red dress that melts around her curves, daring me to bend her over right here and show my dick its new home.
She sucks in an open-mouthed breath, staring up at me. “You are! You are so a cop! You have that dirty cop sort of look. Undercover, maybe. Homicide, definitely. I’m going to pay. You were trying to see if I’d walk out on my tab, weren’t you? That’s entrapment. And, by the way…” She licks her lips, giving me a hard stare, then nods toward her purse over my shoulder. “Blue is your color. Brings out the psychopath in your eyes.”
First, I’m a cop, then a psychopath. She’s chaos and perfection, and I can’t wait to unravel all those messy layers.
“You done?”
“I’m never done,” she snaps, and I know she’s telling the fucking truth.
Fuck. A thousand burning questions slither like snakes inside me. Things I want to know. Need to know. But all that will have to wait, because right now I just need to get her out of this room and somehow secure her into my life without scaring the ever-loving shit out of her.
“I’m not a cop.” I try to put her at ease, but she’s not so easily swayed. “This is my sister’s restaurant. Now, come on, stop being a pain in the ass.”
My rough tone seems to snap her out of the moment, and I see a cocktail of disbelief and desire mixing behind those wide doe eyes that have me mesmerized and pussy-whipped before I even get my greedy dick inside her.
“Me? I’m the pain in the ass? You’re the one acting like some alpha bosshole. Guys like you are usually compensating for something, you know…” Her sassy spark turns into wide-eyed wonder as her eyes dart down to my tented pants.
She falls silent, lips open, and I take my chance. I grab her arm and lead her the rest of the way through the restaurant, just as the low music from the surrounding speakers starts playing a horrible instrumental rendition of Madonna’s, “Like a Virgin”.
I bet she is. I fucking bet so. And I’m going to find out, soon enough.