Chapter 12 Hutch
Hutch
I’d gotten her to open up a bit; hell, she even laughed a little. And the spark of fire in her eyes when I’d demanded she look at me…Shit. My dick definitely wondered how obedient she’d be in bed.
But here we are ten minutes into this meal, and she’s closed off again, lost in her own little world, picking at her food with one hand and scrolling her phone with the other.
Normally I’m the quiet one. But something about her shoulders and the sudden tightness in her jaw makes me want to know what is going on inside that head of hers.
“If you think any louder, everyone in this place will be able to hear you. Ever tried being in the moment? It’s pretty fucking great.”
She looks up at me, eyes wary but curious, then quietly replies, “A burger and fries at some little dive diner in,” she glances around then back at me, “wherever-we-are California is…nice.” She lowers her eyes and goes back to scrolling.
I sit back and watch her. Hair perfectly styled, even after hiking all afternoon, not a wrinkle on her clothes, light caramel freckles dusting her nose and cheeks.
Her lashes move as she reads something on her phone where it rests on the table.
Her eyes dance up to mine and then go back to her plate, where she picks up her knife and cuts into a slice of chicken before stabbing into it and taking another bite.
She eyes the burger and fries on my plate and then looks at my milkshake.
She looks like she wants to say something, but I’ve noticed I get more out of her if she chooses to talk to me, rather than being forced, so I swipe up a fry and shove it in my mouth, keeping my eyes on hers.
“How do you eat like that?”
“Like what?” I ask and take a large slurp of milkshake through the straw.
She uses her knife to slice off more chicken breast, then tips her chin toward my plate.
“You don’t like burgers and fries?”
She chews slowly, watching me, then shakes her head. “No, it’s not that.”
I shove another fry in my mouth, and she tracks the movement. She watches me chew and swallow, and I swear she’s practically salivating. I reach across, pull her plate toward me, and slide mine toward her with the other hand.
She lets out an exasperated sigh. “Why are you always taking things that aren’t yours? Give me my salad.”
“Let’s see what all the fuss is about.” I grab my unused fork and stab into a piece of chicken and lettuce, shoving it into my mouth. I pull a face.
“This is awful,” I tell her with a grimace at the offending shitty salad.
“It’s healthy,” she says quietly, “which is more than I can say for your burger and fries.”
“This lettuce is wilted, and the chicken is dry as fuck.” I tip my chin at the burger and fries in front of her. “Eat that.”
She hesitates, then shakes her head. “I’m not eating this.”
“I thought we cleared up sharing with the whole swallowing my cum thing,” I say casually.
She lets out a small breath and her shoulders tense before she looks around nervously. “Would you keep your voice down?”
“When you eat,” I say, draping my arm along the back of the booth.
She glances down at the burger and fries in front of her. “I’m not eating your food.”
“It’s not mine anymore. It’s yours.”
Her eyes meet mine briefly. “Do you even eat salad?” she asks, quieter now.
“’Course I do.” I pick up the little cup of dressing and dump it all over the salad. Then I pick the fork back up and dig into her salad. “Just eat the burger. Fries too,” I say around another bite that I’m going to have to gag down.
Seriously, we are not paying for this.
She exhales again but picks up a fry and bites into it. I swear her eyes almost roll back in her head. It reminds me of the little sexy faces she makes when she comes.
“Good, right?” I ask and try to push that mental image from my mind. The last thing I need is a fucking hard-on in the middle of this diner.
Too late.
Hesitantly, she nods, the tiniest twitch to her full pink lips before quietly admitting, “I haven’t had fries in years.”
I cock a brow at her. “You’re kidding, right?”
She bites her lip and then ducks my gaze like it’s the most embarrassing admission she’s ever made.
“Here,” I say, swiping an extra-long fry off the plate. I dunk it in the milkshake, then hold it out to her.
“What?” Her expression is uncertain as it dangles in the air between us.
“You’ve never dunked your fries in a milkshake?” Jesus, where has this woman been living, under a rock?
Her expression turns a little uncomfortable, before she quietly admits, “Not since I was about ten years old.”
The ice cream at the end of the French fry is about to melt right off, so I pop it into my mouth before swiping up another.
“Then it’s long fucking overdue,” I say around the bite and dunk the fry, holding it out to her. When she moves to take it, I pull it back.
“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” I tell her.
Her spine stiffens, and she glances around the diner.
No one is paying us the least bit of attention, but it’s like she’s afraid to relax, just being in the moment for fear of what other people will think.
It’s different. Normally she’s so full of snark and sass it’s weird as hell seeing her all sheepish and almost willing to comply. Almost.
She shakes her head again when she looks at me. “You’re not feeding me.”
“Come on, California. It’s a French fry. Live a little.”
She leans her elbows on the table, mirroring my position, eyes hesitant. “Why?”
I nudge her foot under the table. “Just close your eyes and open for me.”
She inhales sharply. I didn’t mean it to sound like that, but her eyes stay locked on mine for a couple beats too long. Like the weight of this moment might be a promise of something more. Like I’m asking her to trust me with something deeper.
Christ. It’s just a French fry. So why does it feel like a dare I’m not sure either of us is willing to take?
With one last assessing look around the diner, she lets her eyes slip closed, her lips parted a bit.
So this is what she looks like when she actually lets go of some of the control. Fearing I might lose my chance, I reach forward and touch the ice cream-coated fry to her bottom lip, smearing the milkshake a bit.
She startles at the cold, but the tip of her tongue darts out to taste the cool ice cream before she takes the fry into her mouth.
Filthy fucking images slam into my mind, and I have to fight the groan that works its way up my chest. It’s her own groan of pleasure that has my dick jerking to life in my pants under the table. Images of her taking my cock so perfectly in her sweet mouth flash before my eyes.
She runs her tongue along her lips, and my eyes drop there, wishing I could taste her.
What is with me?
She hums as she chews and then swallows. “Can I open my eyes now?”
As if pulled from the trance of her perfect mouth on me, her voice jolts me back, and I shake my head even though she can’t see me.
“Not yet,” I tell her. “Here, tell me what you taste.”
She opens slightly, and I feed her another fry. Her breath catches a little when my fingers touch her lips.
Interesting.
She rolls the fry around in her mouth a bit before she speaks. “Salt. Sweet. It’s fries and chocolate.” Her voice takes on a softer edge. “What’s the point of this?”
“What do you feel?” I ask, watching her.
“Mostly confused.”
I chuckle. So fucking different from her usual fire.
“Try again,” I say, pressing another ice cream-tipped fry to her lips. There’s something wholly erotic about feeding this woman fries in the middle of a busy diner, but I don’t let myself overthink it.
She sighs and I don’t know if it’s in uncertainty or pleasure. “Crunchy outside, fluffy inside. Warm and cold at the same time.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Her eyes slowly open and she blinks a couple of times as she finishes chewing. She eyes me for a couple of beats. “You’re really fucking weird, you know that?”
I smile, giving her all the charm I can muster. “Thanks.”
She purses her lips and drops her eyes back to the plate, looking at the burger.
“Eat,” I tell her, tipping my chin up at her.
“Are you really okay with eating a salad?” she asks softly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Hell no.” I chuckle and raise my hand to signal the waitress.
She saunters over, and Ginger watches as I order another burger and fries and tell her about the awful salad. The waitress assures me she’ll take it off our bill and clears the plate before walking away.
She seems content to know I’ve got more food coming, so I watch as she digs into the burger, taking a ridiculously large bite, and the moan she lets out is erotic as hell. Before she even finishes chewing, she’s shoving a fry in her mouth.