Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
I think I’m gonna cry. And when he reached out and covered my hand with his for a quick squeeze, I had to stifle the sniffles.
MACE
I knew it! I saw it as soon as we walked in here. Every insecurity, every step, she faltered as soon as she saw where we were headed. I didn’t know, though, that she’d felt that way about this place. I’m no fool; I know the stigmas and the dog whistles, but I don’t want that shit acquainted with my name on any level, whether it be patron or staff.
I saw how they eyed her when we walked in. Stupid me, I thought they were admiring her beauty, but she knew better. It pissed me off to see the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide, and it was all I could do to keep my anger hidden. I didn’t realize at first that she’d thought I was mad at her, but once I did, I went with it.
So I pushed her. I wanted her to fight back to show me that fire she had that first night when she sat at the bar in my club talking shit to her friend. I want the sweet girl-woman who let me spank her ass in front of a window that she doesn’t yet know is one-sided. The girl who talks to her pussy and acts like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
She started to hit back at me, but then the doubts moved in again. I never put on a show, would never put any woman that I’m with on display, but I wanted her to get some of what she’d lost back. So I fed her fruit from my fork, tasted her overly sweet pancakes, and even stole a piece of potato from her home fries, at which point she threatened to gore me with her fork if I did it again.
I wrapped her up in warmth until she forgot that there was an audience, but I never did. I know some of the faces in here, most of them are regulars, and I’m doubly sure they know who I am. You can’t live in this city and not know as much as our PR person likes to put my face on everything.
When we were both full, I rested my elbows on the table with my chin on my hands. “How was it?”
“It was fantastic, just as I heard.” She blushed when she said this and looked down at her plate. Something in my gut twisted at that forlorn look, and I had the sudden urge to take all of her troubles away.
“I have a feeling you’re going to get tired of this place soon.”
“What? Why?” Does she have any idea how her eyes sparkle like candlelight through a glass of the finest whiskey?
“Friday night happy hour, then again on Sundays for brunch. I give it three months before you’re begging me to take you somewhere else.”
Her mouth fell open, and I’m not sure which surprised her more. The open invitation or the fact that I’d implied we’d be together in three months. One of the waitresses walked by with caramel cheesecake slathered in sauce, and her eyes followed her. Please say it, baby, say it. “I want that.” Yes!!!
Steph
“Have mercy!” I flopped back on my bed, winded and so thoroughly satisfied. Beside me, Mace was pulling himself up to lay on the pillow next to mine. As if this day couldn’t get any better. Well, it can if he’d give me the D, but he’s playing hard to get. Though he knows how to make up for it. I didn’t even know oral sex could be like that on the receiving end.
We’d left the restaurant a little tipsy. Well, I was tipsy after drinking about five mimosas after he’d ordered another bottle of very expensive champagne to brutalize with fresh-squeezed orange juice. I’d still been semi-expecting that he’d been pranking me with all those nice things he said, but he wasn’t. And he’d passed the last test that I didn’t even know I was giving him.
When I pointed at the cheesecake with her heart racing in my chest and said I want that, I half expected him to make some kind of glib comment. But instead, he’d hailed our server, respectfully of course, and ordered one with extra sauce and two forks. I about melted.
We ate our cheesecake, feeding each other little bites that always seemed to end with us staring into each other’s eyes while easing the concoction off the fork with our tongues suggestively. We’d polished off the second bottle of Dom as well so that by the time we were ready to leave, I was leaning on his arm and giggling like an idiot. It’s the champagne; it always does it to me. It also makes me horny as hell.