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“There are no manners when it comes to good pizza. It’s every lady for herself.” The guy winked at her before clapping West on the shoulder. “When the time comes, think square cut. Timeless.”
She frowned as West ducked his head. His man-bun—sexy as hell, by the way—wasn’t enough to hide the reddening of his ears.
“What did he mean? Square cut is just for sheet pizzas. Though I do enjoy those. I’ve always found they taste better than regular ones, but I always figured it had to do with happy memories from childhood—” She stopped and swallowed, transferring the steaming hot piece of pizza from one hand to the other before she lost a layer of skin. “Sorry. Babbling. You can talk now. If you want to.”
West grinned at her, his momentary embarrassment gone. He grabbed a napkin and leaned forward to cup it under her hand as she transferred her dripping slice to her paper plate. “Go ahead. Don’t hold back on my account.”
She shrugged and lifted the pizza again, aiming straight for her mouth. A glob of cheese stretched between her lip and the piece, and she went to pull it apart but she wasn’t fast enough. He flicked the cheese free and popped it into his own mouth, licking his thumb in a way that made her suppress a moan.
And it wasn’t just because this was the best goddamn pizza she’d ever tasted in her life.
“Are there like…classes for that sort of thing?” she asked once she’d managed to chew and swallow.
“What thing?” He grabbed his own piece of pizza, then went back for a second, stacking them on top of each other in a haphazard pile. His tongue slicked over his lower lip as he eyed his plate and she clenched in ways she wasn’t sure she ever had before.
So…Kegel muscles. They were sneaky little buggers, right? Waiting for the moment they’d be called into service. She’d never really paid much attention to them before tonight, but then again she wasn’t normally in a state of arousal severe enough to warrant humping a table.
She wasn’t there yet, but definitely getting closer.
“That whole oozing sex appeal deal you just do naturally. You even stare at pizza like you want to fuck it.”
His head snapped up, his green eyes widening before he laughed. “Ever seen American Pie?”
“No. Do they fuck a pizza?” At his knowing look, she considered the title of the movie. A bit obvious, but males. They weren’t known for subtlety. “A pie? Really? That feels good to your type?”
“Yes.” He nodded sagely. “Warm.”
She wrinkled her nose and he laughed again.
“Not that I’ve tried it.”
“Never needed to, I’m guessing.” She was pretty sure he got pie every night of the week, and it was the kind he didn’t need to eat with a fork.
Probably gobbled it up with his fingers and tongue, and boy, weren’t those disturbing visuals. Mainly because she was seeing him with another chick in her head. Not her.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a second and concentrated, swapping the faceless brunette in her mind who was on the receiving end of West’s oral favors to herself. Then she smiled as mental Lauren flung her eyes wild and squealed like the girls on Tumblr. The fantasy needed work, but for a fledgling effort? Not bad.
“Why are you smiling?” he asked. “Do I dare to ask?”
“I’m just imagining you going down on me instead of some random groupie girl.” When there was utter silence, she opened her eyes and found him staring at her, his brows raised. “Aww, no sputtering or choking? Have we lost the magic already?”
“I don’t think so. I might be past the point of laughing.” He picked up his pizza and took a big bite. Slowly, he chewed, bringing her attention to the motion of his jaw.
That should not be hot.
“You’re staring.”
“Sorry.” She snagged a couple of pieces of pepperoni off her pizza and popped them into her mouth. “I don’t always say outrageous things. Just when I’m breathing.”
“Sounds about right.”
“I don’t get out much. That’s why I’m trying to correct that by having new experiences. I can’t spend all my time locked away with Ethan. It’s not healthy.” She bit into her pizza, belatedly noticing that West had stopped eating. “Don’t you like it?” she asked in between chewing, blotting her greasy chin with the napkin she grabbed with her other hand.
“It’s great. Ethan, huh? He’s never managed to give you an orgasm?”
She snorted. “If I can’t, you really think he could?” She took another bigger bite and dropped the piece on the plate, giving up all pretense of eating daintily. Not that she’d bothered overmuch in the first place.
When you’d spent most of your life not fitting in, you stopped expecting to. Especially when your dinner date—err, companion—was a sex god rockstar. It wasn’t as if she could impress him even if she tried.
