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Argh.
“You have that look on your face again,” she states after the waitress leaves to fetch our food.
“What look?” I mumble.
“Like you’re constipated,” she explains with a teasing grin.
I can’t help but crack a smile.
“Ah, there it is. I knew you had it in you all along.” She laughs softly, staring into my eyes. “You have a nice smile, Nathan Wilder. You should use it more often. A girl could definitely have a hard time saying no to you with that smile beaming back at her.”
Marry me.
Goddamn it.
Will you STOP?!
“Yeah, well, it ain’t my smile that’s the problem. It’s what comes out of my mouth that gets me in trouble,” I grumble, picking up one of the axes just so I can do something with my hands.
“So maybe we should start there. With your mouth.”
Yes, please.
Goddamn it, Nate!
Cut it the-fuck-out!
“What do you suggest?” I ask after clearing my throat, praying to the Almighty himself that she can’t read all the sinful thoughts that just popped into my head with her innocent remark.
The things my mouth could do to her.
“Coming to a place like this will help,” she retorts proudly.
“Huh?” I mumble in confusion, dropping the ax back in its place to give her my full attention. “What do you mean?”
“Well, from my notes, I saw that you took all your dates out for fancy meals, which means you had to rely on your wit and charm to leave a good first impression on them. That’s a lot of pressure for a first date, don’t you think?”
“Tell me about it.” I shrug. “Half the time, I had no idea what to say.”
“Exactly. That’s why taking a date someplace where you both can do some sort of activity together takes the edge off. This way, you both have fun while getting to know one another organically. Does that make sense?”
I nod because, in a way, it does.
“It’s just like when you were little, and you had game nights with your family. Remember how much fun those nights were? How you and your family would laugh the night away while playing board games? That’s the vibe we’re going for tonight,” she explains, unaware that not every kid had that type of wholesome upbringing.
Especially me.
“You did have game night growing up, didn’t you?” she asks inquisitively when I don’t add anything to her remark.
“Not like this. Throwing deadly weapons at a chunk of wood isn’t the same thing as playing Monopoly,” I play it off in the hopes she doesn’t read too much into my silence.
“You’re right about that.” She giggles, and the melodic sound goes straight to my cock.
Goddamn it.
“I… umm,” I stutter, needing to gather my composure before I do something stupid, like tell her that she is the most beautiful woman I have ever met. That she’d look even more beautiful, all sprawled on my bed with me on top of her.
The fuck is wrong with me?
