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He rolls his eyes. “No, the fork is for the meat that drops out.”
“That’s what the chips are for.”
He swipes a Coke from me and pops the top, not bothering to reply. West watches me as I unwrap my first taco. Housed inside of a homemade corn tortilla is steaming hot General Tso’s chicken topped with shredded cabbage and cilantro. A lime wedge is bundled into the end of the foil packet as well. “May as well go all in,” I murmur, squeezing the lime juice over the top of my taco before bringing it to my lips.
The flavors explode, bursting across my tongue in a symphony. The mix is eclectic and timeless, spicy and citrussy. “Oh-ma-gah. Dis is ahmazin’,” I say with my mouth full. Straight up, one bite, and I’m hooked.
“Let me try?” West asks, and I bring my taco to his lips. He groans, no doubt experiencing the same euphoria I just did.
All the while, Colton watches us dispassionately as he chows down on his own food.
I scarf down my remaining two tacos, along with some of the chips and guac, washing it all down with my cane sugar-sweetened Coke. “Mmm. I can totally see this being a pregnancy craving meal.”
West beams. “You just say the word, and I’ll be here ordering for you. Rain or shine, I’m gonna keep my baby mama happy.”
Colton gags. “Let’s dial it down a notch, or twenty. Y’all literally decided to do this today. Not to mention, it’s sickening to watch. Before I know it, y’all will be wearing coordinating outfits and finishing each other’s sentences.”
I smirk at him. Going on looks alone, you’d never think he’d be so uptight. But apparently his lean muscled physique, dirty blond hair, chiseled jaw, and piercing green eyes are all a facade to hide the massive stick up his ass.
I go to call him out, but West beats me to it. “Jealous, big man?” Take that! We already finish each other’s thoughts!
Colton scoffs before dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. “No, not particularly.”
“It’s okay, if you are,” I tell him, testing the waters. He and I had a really rocky start, but he’s going to be in my life for a long, long time to come.
“I’m not.”
I continue like he didn’t reply. “One of these days, some woman is gonna knock you on your ass, and you, too, will be annoyingly smitten.”
“Highly unlikely.” He rolls his chair back to his printer and grabs a stack of papers from the tray. “Sign these,” he says as he rolls back.
West plucks the sheets from his hand and reads over them—twice—before scrawling his name in the designated spots. I go to sign as well, but he stops me. “Read it first.”
“But you signed it,” I state.
“Right, but I read it first. And now I want you to read it so you know it’s everything we discussed—no more, no less, no funny business.”
This man. I do as he suggests and read over the contract. It’s verbatim from the terms we laid out; I sign on the dotted line and turn to West. “So, is this the part where we fuck?”
West gulps audibly, and Colton shoots out of his chair like something bit his ass. “Not in my fucking office!” he shouts, causing West and I to crack up.
“You’re damn right it is.” West springs up from his chair and extends a hand down toward me. “Let’s go.”
I allow him to pluck me up from my seat and into his arms. He skims his nose over my neck, bringing his lips to rest at my ear. “We were rushed last time—frenzied. Today though?” He steps out of the office and into the sunshine. “Today, I’m gonna go slow, take my time, worship every inch of your body. I’m going to show you how good we are together. I’m gonna make you tremble and beg and scream my name over and over again.”
My breathing is shallow as his dirty promises fizz through my veins, my core pulsing with desire. “That’s pretty big talk, West.”
He shifts my weight to one arm and opens the car door, depositing me into the seat.
He wags his brows. “You know what they say about guys with big talk, right?”
I smile. “What?”
“Big cock, too.”
Laughter bubbles out of me. “No, I’m pretty sure that’s not what they say.”
He crowds the door and cups his junk. “Maybe so, but you already know it’s true for me. But, I’m all too happy to give you a reminder.”
I lick my lips and rub my thighs together. “Then what are you waiting for?”
He flies around to the driver’s side and slips behind the wheel in record time. “Buckle up, baby mama.”
The ride home passes in a blur of sexual tension and roving hands; by the time we make it back to the house, I’m nearly panting with desire. “Your room or mine?” I ask as we step into the house, immediately feeling idiotic. He made it clear when I moved in that he doesn’t…entertain…in his bedroom.
