It’s massive and she seems like she’s enjoying it.
“And they have that warm sourdough bread they serve with the whipped butter, not to mention their mile high carrot cake cheesecake that I really love,” she adds, then goes red-faced. “Though… I don’t really need it.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, waving the waitress from across the restaurant over. “You’re havin’ a fuckin’ salad for dinner. The only upside there can be to that is having room for dessert.”
“This might be a salad but it’s not like it’s for dieters. It’s got candied nuts, bacon, breaded fried chicken, four types of cheese, and it’s over fifteen hundred calories.”
I laugh. “Get the cheesecake. I brought you here because I know it’s your favorite restaurant over here. I loved their chocolate cake we had on your sixteenth birthday. I also happen to like your trunk and don’t care about calories. You shouldn’t either.” I say to the waitress, “We didn’t get any of that warm bread.”
“Oops, sorry,” she says, giving me acome hitherlook.
“Bring some for my girl, please,” I direct dismissively because I don’t want Bailey to think I’m inviting this flirting.
“I wasn’t fishing for a compliment,” Bailey says after the waitress leaves. “And it was rude to eavesdrop in the bookstore.”
I shrug. “Your sweet ass looks damn good in that dress, baby. Even if you wore it to spite me. And you’re not below my league. I’m the jackhole that’s lucky to be here tonight with you.”
She swallows, looking uncomfortable, but then asks, “Spite you?”
“I asked you to wear the gold one so of course you didn’t.”
“Ican’twear that gold one. It has painful memories and aromas attached to it.”
Shit.
I try to recover with, “And to spite me because this one’s even sexier than that one. Feels like a test.”
“A test?”
She doesn’t look amused.
“To make sure I keep my word and don’t claim you before you’re ready. You’re definitely testing my willpower, because I’m envisioning doing very dirty things to you in this dress.”
The girl is back with the bread and looking both scandalized and jealous at overhearing what I just said as she sets it down, face flushed.
“Thanks,” Bailey squeaks.
“Mm hm,” the server replies with clear embarrassment and quickly moves away.
I slice the bread into slices, butter one and pass it to Bailey.
She stares at it like she’s somewhere else.
“You don’t want any?” I ask.
She clears her expression. “I do, actually. Thank you.” She takes it, our fingers brushing.
After she finishes daintily chewing, I fork up a piece of steak and hold it out. “Their porterhouse is dangerously good. Taste it,” I say, trying to distract her, and also keep her on the edge of her seat. And I avoid the urge to let my nostrils flare because she’s smelling even juicier than this meat. She’s been wet since she came down her parents’ stairs and looked at me, and she just had another surge of arousal.
Fuck, I can hardly wait to taste her. Take her in, nude, spread out, and all mine.
She scrunches up her nose. “It’s too rare for me.”
“Best way to eat it. Close your eyes.”
“My eyes already saw it. No, thank you.”
“Suit yourself. Don’t know what you’re missin’.” I shrug and eat it myself.