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Oran: I almost saw your nipple when you reached for the bread. Now, I just want to suck it.
Oran: I should’ve had a chef come to the house. The only thing I want to eat is your pussy.
Oran: You’re going to cum so hard when we get home.
“This is why!” I wave it at him. “You’ve been texting me during dinner.”
Oran’s smirk is predatory, “It’s your fault.”
We’re locked in a stare down until the dessert is placed between u
s. The server, a young blonde woman who looks to be in her early twenties, blushes again for at least the tenth time tonight as she addresses him.
“Do you need anything else, Mr. Hale?”
I giggle inwardly because she’s not being disrespectful to me; she’s just star-struck. Oran is not used to admirers and doesn’t even notice the poor girl with the fluttering heart. I understand all too well because that was me.
“No, thank you.” He glances at her name tag. “Summer. Just the check, please.”
She floats away like he proposed and I cannot hold in my giggle any longer.
“What?” He asks around a bite of his apple crisp.
“Tell me what you remember about Summer?”
He furrows his brows while he thinks. “Female, server, and blonde.”
“So it wasn’t just me.”
“What wasn’t?”
“That girl looks ready to tattoo your name on her ass and you didn’t even notice her.”
“I think this is the first time a wife chastises her husband for not noticing another woman.”
“I’m not chastising you, just giving you an example of how you ignored me most of my life.”
“Well, I see you now, and I plan on seeing all of you in about an hour. Imma fuck that dress off of you.”
Summer damn near drops the bill jacket as she catches the last part of Oran’s statement. Her cheeks flush crimson, and she tries to retreat. Oran grabs her wrist to stop her. The way her eyes focus on his hand touching her wrist makes me wonder how long she’ll wait before she washes it.
“Summer, you have the most interesting shade of green eyes. Thank you for your amazing service. I’ll tell my friends.” He gives her a hundred-dollar bill. “Make sure you buy yourself something pretty. Good night.”
He drops the money for the bill in the jacket and promptly stands and grabs my wrist. Oran guides us out of the restaurant and gives me apple caramel flavored kisses once we’re outside.
“Happy now?” His hands rub my back and he holds me close. “Do you think she feels seen enough for you now?”
“You’re so damn charming,” I respond with my snark on blast.
My skin prickles, but it has nothing to do with Oran. It’s weird, but I’ve felt like someone has been looking at me since we’ve made it to the restaurant. I have found no one staring at me, but it’s a feeling I can’t shake. It’s beyond the fascination people have seeing us out and about. This feels like every move I make is being watched.
Oran tips my chin to force me to look him in the eyes.
“Hey, where did you go? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I try to dismiss it.
“It’s not nothing. Don’t try that again. Tell me.”
