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I smile at her happiness. I can tell she loves volunteering there. “How is your mom? I haven’t seen her in a long time.”
“She’s great, just as crazy as she’s always been.”
Talking about her mom reminds me her dad passed away after I stopped hanging out with her. I was gutted for her when I found out he died of a stroke. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when your dad passed.”
“Oh, it’s okay. Sara and her family jumped in and became the surrogate family we needed. They pulled us into their fold and haven’t let us go since,” she says with a sad smile. She looks up at me, and I can tell she wants to ask why I wasn’t there for her, but she isn’t sure she should.
I explain so she doesn’t have to. “My dad had started drinking heavily back then, and it took every ounce of my time to make sure he didn’t kill himself. I wish I could’ve been around more than I was.” It’s not the whole truth exactly, but she doesn’t need to be tainted by my dirty history.
Our meals come, breaking the seriousness of the moment, and I blow out a relieved breath. I don’t want to keep talking about my dad or even Natalie’s dad. It’s just another reminder that I’m not good enough for her.
“This looks so good,” I say to change the subject. My plate of baked ziti smells phenomenal.
“No kidding. Mine looks delicious, but yours also looks amazing.”
“We can always share if you want.”
“God, yes!” She fist-pumps the air, making me laugh. I watch Natalie load up her fork with fettuccine alfredo and take a big bite. A moan slips from her throat as she chews, sending a bolt of lust through me. I would love to hear it coming from her for a different reason.
“I’m going to need you to stop making that noise.” My voice comes out gravelly and more like a growl.
Her emerald eyes dart to mine as a lascivious grin stretches across her face. I’m pretty sure I’m about to play with fire. It’s fucking fantastic.
“You don’t want to hear me moan?”
“Oh, I want to hear it, just not when we’re in a public place where I can’t do anything about it.”
Her fiery spirit tells me she’s used to being in control, but that is not how it’s going to go with me. I can also guarantee she’ll enjoy it more than any dipshit she’s been with before.
“Why can’t you do anything about it in a public place?” Her voice is ringing with fake innocence, and she looks awfully proud right now. I want to kiss it off her face so bad I ache with it.
“Do you really want to do this here?” I raise my eyebrow. “I won’t let you have the upper hand, babe. I don’t give up control, but you can find out sooner rather than later if you want.” I test her to see how she handles my certain level of dominance.
I watch a blush bloom in her cheeks, and her eyes ignite with lust. Her reaction tells me everything I need to know about her preferences. She may not know how to give up control just yet but she’s most certainly turned on by the idea.
“I don’t know how to not be in control,” she says quietly and looks away from me.
“I know.” Her eyes dart back to mine. “Trust me to know what you need and to actually give it to you.”
She stares at me for a beat and then says, “Okay.”
A grin stretches across my face at her compliance. It’s going to be so much fun teaching her to let go and giving her everything she deserves.
* * *
We finishedour dinner an hour ago and are in my truck headed back to her house. Throughout dinner, our conversation was never stilted or forced. We talked about anything and everything, and I laughed more tonight than I have in the last year. I’ve always known Natalie was special but seeing her passions shine through her felt like I won the most epic of prizes.
We’re quiet now as I drive, and I can’t keep myself from touching her anymore. I reach over and grab her hand, glancing over to see her smile as I bring her knuckles to my mouth and gently kiss them. Her skin is so smooth under my lips. It makes me want to explore every other silky inch of her.
I pull into her driveway and put the truck into park, shutting off the engine.
“I’ll walk you up, okay?” She smiles at me and lets go of my hand. I quickly get out and walk to the passenger side, opening the door for her.
“I am capable of opening my own door, you know.”
“I do know, but you deserve someone else doing it for you,” I say, grabbing her hand and helping her down.
Once she’s out of the truck, I put my arm around her shoulders, pulling her in tight to my side. She wraps her arm around my waist as we walk up the sidewalk to her front door, the outdoor light guiding our way. The air is cool but not quite cold the closer we inch towards Thanksgiving.
