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I pop it open, take a sip, and am surprised by how sweet it is.
“I like it. Now for the real test.”
I twirl the zucchini in my fork, then stab a couple of tomatoes.
"Here goes nothing," I tease, hoping to clear the tension in the air. I know a man like Levi isn't used to women hesitating, and I feel guilty for denying us both what we want.
"Oh my God..." I moan around a mouthful. "You nailed it."
"I found a video tutorial and did everything the same," he tells me proudly.
I take another bite, thinking about how good he is at following directions, and am curious if he’s that way in the bedroom too. "I'm starting to wonder if there's anything youcan'tdo."
"Oh there is..." He stands next to me while I sit at the breakfast bar so I'm only a few inches shorter than him. "Seduce you, for starters."
Ah, there’s his hurt ego.
"That was you trying to seduce me?" I bite back a laugh, finding it cute that he has no idea how crazy he makes me.
He glares as if he's actually offended.
"It's probably because you've never had to try with anyone before. You snap a finger, and they come running." At the sound of me demonstrating, Dasher actually comes over. I’m almost shocked he listened, but then I laugh at the prime example. "You even havehimtrained."
He flashes a cocky smirk and spins the barstool until I face him. Then he leans down and rests both hands on either side of me, caging me into my chair. "I'm not gonna lie and say I don't like a good chase, but when you close me out because of something that happened in your past, it makes me want to prove to you that I'm not like that."
"I think at least thirty-eight women would disagree." I throw out the number he’d told me he'd been with. Whether or not that's true, I still don't know.
A wide grin covers his face as he scrubs a hand over his facial hair and inches closer.
"Fallon..." He says my name with pure sex on his tongue. "Can I kiss you?"
Instinctively, I lick my lips and inhale sharply. Having him kiss me is all I've thought about for the past three days, so now that he's asking and offering, I can't say no.
So I nod.
Slowly, he cups my face and rubs the pad of his thumb gently over my cheek, making my heart pound impossibly harder. The anticipation is almost too much as he takes his sweet time.
And then, finally, he brushes his mouth over mine.
I lean into him, giving him all of me as he dips his tongue between my lips. Deeper and deeper, he takes and takes, kissing me tenderly one moment, then savagely the next as if he'll die without the taste of me.
"Fallon," he growls, standing between my thighs. His erection jabs into my stomach, and it takes every ounce of my strength not to explore him.
"You taste even better than I imagined," he whispers, and I greedily want more. Instead, he releases me.
After taking the seat next to me, he spins my chair back toward my plate. "Don’t want your food to get cold."
I glance over at him, wondering what he's thinking and why he stopped. It’s not because he was worried about my dinner, but my stomach growls so I finish eating.
After ten minutes, he asks, "Want another?" He holds up my empty can, and I nod, hoping it’ll help me relax since my nerves feel like they're on fire.
"Thanks," I say when he hands me a different flavor.
"That's my favorite one."
I look at the label. "Sour Apple," I read aloud, then try a sip. "Wow, it's delicious."
"Try mine. It's their seasonal flavor."
