Page 52 of Poems He Wrote

“Oh…”

“That’s right,oh.” he mocks. “It’s getting really, really cramped in these suit pants, and I am honestly scared to get up.”

“Why? You might knock something over with the thing in your pants?” I ask, lifting a brow.

“So smart,” he responds, laughing.

We eat in tense silence for a little while, our feet dancing around each other’s on the marble floor. My heart is beating out of my chest, and the bottle is completely empty now. With burning cheeks, I look at Noah, only to find him already looking at me.

“I want you for dessert,” he says, nibbling on his lower lip.

“Do you?”

“Oh yes, baby. I can’t stop thinking about that gorgeous lace underneath your dress, and how perfect it will look on my bedroom floor.”

I choke on my own saliva, not expecting those words to fly out of his mouth so seductively.

“Do you want to leave?”

“Yes,” I breathe. “Please.”

He lifts a hand to call the waitress over, and in just a matter of seconds, she is right there, sweetly touching his shoulder.

“Would you like some dessert, sir?” She bats her goddamn eyelashes at him, and I am trying my best not to sit up and rip the tiny hairs off.

Noah turns to the side, so her hand falls off of his shoulder. He lifts his gaze to me, and a wicked smile graces his face once he sees the amount of jealousy washing over me. Is he enjoying this shit?

“We want the check,” Noah says. “And I would really appreciate it if you could stop touching me.”

“Sure, sir. Right away.”

She scurries away, and I stare daggers at Noah. And he laughs. The idiot laughs.

“You look beautiful when you are jealous. I haven’t seen that look on you so far.”

“She would make a good-looking corpse,” I reply, joking. “I can arrange that real quick.”

“I only have eyes for you,” he repeats softly, and his words, again, calm the raging storm in my head, but as the girl reaches us, my stomach doesn’t stop coiling.

“Here is your bill, sir. I hope you enjoyed your meal.” She winks at him and hands him the receipt, with something scribbled on the back.

I snatch it out of Noah’s hands. My blood is boiling. The bitch wrote her number down.

I AM SORRY, WHAT?

“Silvia, right?” I say, standing up from my seat, and for the first time tonight, she pays attention tome.I hear my voice as a rumble, but I know for a fact that it’s a whisper.Whispers make people’s skin crawl, I learnt that from my mother.

“Can you not take the hint? I may look soft, I may look sweet, but are you sure you want to test that?” I say reaching her, lifting my hand up to the place where her neck and shoulder connect. “Does it feel nice? Someone touching you when you do not want it? Do you want my hands on you, Silvia?” I roll the words on my tongue, so softly and slowly, making sure she understands me.

Startled, she takes a step back.Tough shit, bitch. You are not getting out of my grasp.

I am talking so calmly, my whispers barely audible, a smile gracing my face. We don’t want a scene, especially not on our first date.

“You don’t? But I want to keep pushing, Silvia.Don’t you like it?Do you think he liked it?”

Noah chuckles at our side, his eyes full of lust, roaming over me. The girl looks at me, fear etching at her features.

“No, ma’am. I am very sorry.”

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