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“And I happen to think you’re delusional.”
“I see how it is.” He keeps his eyes on the road but I swear it feels like he’s staring right at me.
“Do you? See how it is, I mean?” I don’t even know what the hell I’m asking, so I certainly don’t expect him to.
“Oh, I do.” His gaze meets mine for a brief moment and there’s something behind his expression that I can’t quite read.
Without another word or explaining his cryptic answer, he turns his attention back toward the road, but not before reaching over to snag my hand out of my lap. I watch in bewilderment, and a nice helping of excitement, as he places it on his leg and then covers my hand with his.
I relax back into the seat and turn my gaze out of the window, watching the cold, dreary day pass by, while the inside of the jeep feels like it’s a million degrees.
——
“This place is amazing. I can see why your dad liked it so much,” Atlas observes, looking around the restaurant from our small booth in the corner where we’re sipping on iced teas as we wait for our food to arrive.
“It really is. I didn’t expect it to be so little and quaint.”
“And dark.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “And dark.” I do another sweep of the dimly lit dining room before my gaze goes back to Atlas. “Then again, you like the dark.” I take a little sexual dig at him.
“I do. Though, these days I tend to prefer the light.”
“Oh yeah? And why is that?” I ask, having no idea where this is going as I lift my glass and take a drink.
“So I can watch your face when I make you come.”
I suck the tea down the wrong hole and instantly start coughing and sputtering, trying to muffle the sound with my napkin.
Atlas sits back, a shit eating grin on his face, as he watches me try to compose myself. Clearly, that was not what I was expecting him to say. Though I can’t really be surprised either, can I? After all, Atlas is hands down the dirtiest man I have ever met. And I mean that in the best way possible.
The waitress appears with our food before I’ve fully recovered. When she sets our plates down, she gives me a questioning look before asking if I’m okay.
“She’s fine,” Atlas answers for me with a mischievous glint in his eye.
She nods once and then leaves us to our food, which both look and smell amazing.
I’m finally able to get my airway clear, but I still have a little tickle in my throat as I lean down and inhale the delicious aroma of my ratatouille and ruby snapper, humming in delight.
When I look up, Atlas is watching me intently.
“What?” I straighten, feeling self-conscious.
“You seriously just made me hard as fuck.” He adjusts in his seat.
“What?” I bark out a laugh.
“I’m serious. That little moan you just did.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose, blowing out through his mouth a few seconds later. When his eyes reopen, they land directly on me. “Give me your foot.”
“What?” I crinkle my brow in confusion.
“Your foot. Give it to me.” I see his arm move slightly, like he’s moving his hand under the table.
Unsure what he’s up to, I do as he asks, lifting my foot, which almost immediately finds his hand. He slips my brown bootie off and tugs me forward just enough to put my socked foot directly on his crotch.
I bite down on my bottom lip, blown away by how turned on I, myself, suddenly feel.
“Told you, hard as a rock.” He slips my shoe back on and lets my foot fall.
