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I move through the Sunday shoppers, glancing over the grapes and apples, when I spot Betty standing next to an older man near the back.
I think he’s the store owner, but I can’t be too sure.
Betty’s a damn gourmet feast, wearing jean shorts and a little top with cherries all over the material. Cherries. Right on her nipples. Yum. Her dark hair is twisted in a messy bun atop her head, begging me to free it. The sight of her instantly takes me back to last night when I was with her, feeling her. Kissing her. She’s a fantastic kisser.
Normally, I don’t spend a second time with a woman I’ve fucked. I’m more of a one-and-done kind of guy, but Betty isn’t just any woman. I’m already planning what I’d like to do to her next. I’d love to have those ruby-red lips wrapped around my hard dick. Watch her take me deep down her throat.
Betty pushes a shopping cart away from the older man, coming in my direction, and I don’t like the expression on her beautiful face. Her lips are turned down, and she looks upset.
“Hey,” I whisper when she’s a few feet from the baskets of corn.
She glances over, her mouth dropping open, shock written clearly on her face. But there’s something else there too. It’s brief, but I saw it before she shuttered it. Desire. “Silas, I… uh… didn’t see you there. Shopping for a banana?”
I chuckle. “Nah, I think I’ll upgrade to plantains. Ever had them?”
Betty glances over her shoulder, and then back at me. “I’m sorry, what?”
I step closer, my boots stopping inches from her sandals. “Plantains.”
She laughs, but the pitch is all wrong. She’s nervous. “Sure.”
I don’t know if I’m the one making her nervous, but I’m definitely going to find out what’s troubling her. The more I stare at Betty, the more I realize I’d do anything for this woman. Anything.
“Are you ok?” I ask, reaching out my hand to touch some part of her. I land on her elbow, and I stroke it gently. “You looked upset earlier.”
She pulls her arm away from me. “I’m not upset. I just have a lot going on.” She looks up at me and then blows out a deep breath. “About last night—”
I don’t let her finish before I cut in. “Please, don’t.”
“Silas, we…” Before I can stop her from saying how we should have never happened, which I’m sure is about to slip past her lips, she snaps her mouth shut.
“Don’t say it was a mistake.” The only mistake here is that I didn’t make my move on her long ago.
“But it was,” she says, all wide-eyed and short of breath.
I watch her chest rise and fall, trying not to point out the way her nipples have pebbled underneath the fabric of her shirt. “It wasn’t.”
Her gaze caresses my beard and lips before she snaps out of it, squaring her shoulders. “It was,” she says, more determined. “And it will never happen again.”
She marches away, pushing her cart like she’s in a shopping competition and I laugh slightly under my breath.
“Oh, fuck yes it will,” I say to myself.
Five
Betty
* * *
Walking away from Silas Irons has to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but seriously, I can’t let anyone see us together. I swear just one look from some nosy customer, and they’ll all know what I’m trying to hide.
They’ll know I spent last night enraptured by his attention, reveling in a world of lust and passion. They’ll know I’m quickly falling for a man I can’t have.
I wouldn’t say I’m falling for him in the love department—an outlandish thought—but there’s just something about him I find tempting. Alluring. So incredibly hot, and I can’t stop thinking about him.
His hands exploring me.
The way his lips curled into a smile when I came all over him.
That leather vest full of patches over his t-shirt and worn jeans.
Those sexy faint lines of wisdom beside his dark eyes.
My face feels redder than the cherries on my shirt remembering our passionate time together as I push my cart through the store, looking for healthier foods for my father to toss into the cart. What I really want to throw in here is Silas. Everything I pass reminds me of our tryst in some crazy way.
The big salami sticks in the deli, most of all.
As I round the corner of the bakery section, Silas appears right in front of my cart. I nearly run right into his groin.
“What are you doing?” I ask him.
“Shopping.” He holds up his basket with plantains.
I maneuver my cart around his hotness. “Well, I can see that. Why are you following me?”
This makes him chuckle. “I wasn’t following you.”
“Were too.” Before I can argue with Silas anymore, I spot Mr. Redford by the loaves of fresh baked Italian bread. He waves for me to come and speak with him. “I’ll be right back,” I tell Silas, avoiding his penetrating stare. Because let’s face it, I won’t be back.
