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“What else is left?”
“Detoxifying the organs is known to heighten other senses,” Paul explained with an air of arrogance. “Hale probably knows what I’m talking about.”
I looked at Hale. His poker face was in full effect so I couldn’t tell if he agreed or disagreed with Paul’s statement, but I thought I knew him well enough to assume he wasn’t the type to deny himself of life’s pleasures.
He gave a tight lipped grin as a reply.
Hale didn’t lust for food the way I did, but he enjoyed indulging in life’s little pleasures. I cared nothing for moderation and he loved that about me. Hale loved overindulging me, to the point that he sometimes got off on it. I, too, got off on his let’s-spoil-Rayne-kink. He turned me into a total whore for carbs, coming, and fancy clothes—sometimes presenting me with all three at once.
Those were the days that life was truly worth living.
While Paul continued to talk about the joy of depriving the body of pleasure, I mentally compared him and Hale. Hale’s lean, athletic build was a combination of potent Davenport DNA, innate sex-appeal, frequent morning jogs, a strong metabolism, and his endless thirst for adventure. Paul looked like someone had literally pumped him up with hot air.
Okay, that wasn’t nice. I needed to reset, so I opened a menu. What was I going to eat?
“I appreciate a life of moderation, but I also recognize the need for duality,” Hale said when Paul finally took a breath.
“Duality? How so?”
“Saintliness cannot exist without sin. We’re designed to be a mixture of both.”
Was it just me, or was he totally hot when he said philosophical shit like that?
Champagne and caviar were in his blood but he also loved earthy pleasures. Hale felt shamelessly entitled to whatever he craved, be it steak, pasta, pastries, or pussy. He was a walking aphrodisiac, a potent mixture of masculinity and propriety. And I was getting hot just thinking about how sexy he could be.
As if sensing my arousal, Hale slowly turned. His eyes creased ever so slightly as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. Then his hand landed on my thigh.
“Right, but it’s our job to control the balance. That’s where discipline comes in.” Paul continued to ramble about purifying the body while Elle stared up at him adoringly.
I didn’t have the first clue what she found attractive about this guy.
My knees locked as Hale’s palm glided up my thigh. “It’s my experience that too much rigidness leads to breaks. There’s something freeing about giving up control, don’t you think, Rayne?”
His touch nonchalantly traced the seam of my jeans and I inhaled sharply. I looked up at him, casually disguising the fact that he was cupping my crotch under the table.
Uncertainty formed an awkward smile on my face. This was new territory. Also, he was full of crap. Hale was the biggest control freak I knew.
“I think it all depends on the circumstances. Sometimes a little recklessness is fun and sometimes it’s totally inappropriate.” I locked my thighs around his wrist and he chuckled as I shot him a withering look of death.
I was by no means graceful enough to pull off incognito sexy time in public. What was he thinking?
“Paul’s one of the most disciplined people I’ve ever met. Tell them about your schedule,” Elle said.
Hale pinched my crotch through my jeans and I pressed my nails into his skin as a warning. He needed to stop.
He chuckled softly, so only I could hear the sound, then he pulled his hand away. “That’s interesting,” he said to Paul as he casually checked his phone. “Pardon me. I have to answer this.” He typed out a text and discretely slid the device back into his breast pocket.
A moment later my phone buzzed from the abyss of my purse. I looked at Hale suspiciously, but his focus was strictly on Paul as he detailed every mundane facet of his workout routine.
I discretely checked my phone.
I’m going to eat you for dessert.
Hiding a smirk, I stashed the phone back in my bag and sat up straight. Okay then.
Paul was still pontificating like a blowhard about things that did not interest me at all. I tried to care—for Elle’s sake—but something about the guy felt off. He was a know-it-all who hadn’t said two words to me but seemed fully infatuated with himself.
After more than twenty minutes of only Paul talking, I got annoyed. Didn’t he know I was the friend he had to impress?
