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I just hoped he agreed.
He had to.
I’d make him understand…tomorrow.
Because tonight, I planned to create a night to remember before we went back to being just friends.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Austin
As if my heart hadn’t been working overtime already, watching Rae sit across the table eye fucking me through the entire meal tripled the pace. I was surprised I could think at all with the amount of blood rushing to my cock.
I’d been a nervous wreck all day. My hands sweating and tingling. My lungs struggled to expand fully, and my heart galloped along like a speed racer. I had to keep double-checking that I was just nervous and not actually having a heart attack.
However, watching her strut out of her apartment building, her hair softly blowing in the wind across her bare shoulders, the slim length of her calves above the sexiest black heels, I hoped would be digging into my back later. I wasn’t sure I hadn’t died right then, and this was actually heaven.
My body almost split in two, warring over what emotion would dominate. Below the table, all I could think about was those fucking shoes and figuring out the quickest way to get under her flowy skirt. Above the table, my hands still shook, and my heart still raced.
The thing my mind had a hard time separating was that this romantic restaurant with its flickering candles, soft jazz, and decadent food was the kind of place I would have taken Rae if I had been asking her to marry me. Which I guess I kind of was.
I was going to ask her to stay with me. I was going to ask her to stick it out and give our marriage a try—give me a try.
However, with the way she wrapped her lips around every damn bite, my focus kept shifting below the table, only to swing back to my thoughts when I watched her smile. It bounced back and forth like a yo-yo, and I couldn’t control it enough to form the words.
“I might die of blood loss, Raelynn.”
She tilted her head like she didn’t understand as she dragged her finger through the remaining alfredo on her plate. But we both knew she knew what she was doing because the next moment, she brought that same finger to her full lips to suck the cream off.
“All the blood is rushing to my cock,” I explained anyway.
“Poor baby,” she cooed with a fake pout. “Want me to kiss it better?”
I almost groaned, imagining her sliding under the table to suck me off behind the secrecy of the tablecloth. Part of me wanted to push her to see if she would, but then I remembered who she was, and I had no doubt she’d relish in the task. Instead, I walked a fine line with my control and played with her back. She may be able to seduce me with just a look, but I knew how much Rae loved when I talked dirty to her.
“I would love nothing more than to watch you take all of me between those pouty fucking lips, but we might get kicked out for that.”
Red tinged her cheeks beneath darkening eyes. “It’d be worth it.”
“For a chance to push past your resistance and be in your throat? Definitely.”
Her chest rose and fell quicker, her cleavage pressing against the confines of her black top, and I knew I brought her at least somewhat closer to where I was. But then she shifted, leaning back in her chair, and slowly dragged her finger along the curved line of her top from one shoulder to the next, caressing the top curve of each breast along the way.
What had I planned to say?
Fuck, I couldn’t wait to rip that shirt down and suck her nipples into tight rosy buds.
Shit. Focus.
I cleared my throat, struggling to find the words, but desperately needing to. “But first, I wanted to talk ab—”
My words choked off when something brushed past my knee and landed against my thigh.
“What was that?” she asked with false innocence.
“Fuck, Rae,” I grunted. Her foot grazed my balls, and I almost came from that alone.
“Yeah,” she said, her smile growing. “I can’t wait to get home so you can do just that—Fuck Rae.”
My fists clenched against the tabletop to keep from gripping her foot and forcing more pressure. If anyone looked over, they’d probably assume something was wrong. Not because Rae showed any signs of distress. No, if at all possible, her smile grew while she sat back, relaxed, sipping her vodka gimlet. Meanwhile, I stared so intensely, my face stern and focused on not embarrassing myself.
“Dessert?”
We both blinked, breaking our staring contest, but not bothering to look at our waiter, who waited for our answer.
“No,” we said in unison.
“Thank you,” Rae added.
As soon as the waiter walked away, I gripped her foot and pulled it tight against me, causing her to slip an inch down the chair. Her gloating smile vanished when she gasped and rushed to grip the arms of the chair to hold steady.
