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Just like that, I’m starting to breathe hard. “And when exactly do you feel like putting up with my macho bullshit?”
“When we’re in bed together…” She drops her voice to a whisper. “I seem pretty willing to put up with anything. And everything. I didn’t expect that from myself.”
My zipper is beginning to feel incredibly restricting. “Shiloh, you keep looking at me like that and I’m not going to be fit for public.”
“How am I looking at you?”
“Like it wouldn’t take too much convincing to get you down on your knees. Sucking on me.” I groan into a kiss. “Don’t tell me if I’m right—”
“You’re right.”
“Fuck. Take me back to the closet.”
“Can I take your order?” chirps a girl in a baseball cap behind the counter.
“Uhh.” Shiloh has to physically shake herself in order to focus and I can’t help but grin, sliding a hand down to her ass to give it a squeeze, making her yelp. “We’ll take one of each taco. Carnitas, chicken, fish, veggie—”
“Veggie? Nuh-uh. You can have that one.”
“Fine. And two drinks.” Shiloh looks at me. “What do you like?”
You. Just you. “Coke.”
She nods. “One Coke. One Diet Coke.”
“There’s a Diet Coke now? What the hell for?” The woman behind the counter gapes at me. “Just kidding. Sometimes I like to pretend I’m a time traveler from nineteen forty-nine. She gets a real kick out of it.”
Shiloh practically throws a fistful of money at the girl and drags me away giggling. We fall into one of the padded benches at the edge of the food court. When she tries to sit on the other side of the table, I shake my head and drag her over beside me, stroking my open my mouth up the slope of her neck, kneading her thigh with my left hand. She puts her hands on me, too, tracing my muscles through the new, gray shirt, squirming the more we let the kiss get away from us, telling me she’s getting wet. What am I supposed to do about it here?
The food place calls out our number and I let her mouth go with a growl, adjusting my cock as she struts up to the counter, that ass twitching around in her dress. She glances back at me over her shoulder, all flushed and swollen mouthed. Goddamn. If we don’t find a place to fuck soon, I’m going to throw her up on this table and get to pounding.
A minute later, she returns and I bite into my first taco.
“Holy shit,” I say around a mouthful of flavors I’ve never experienced.
“Good?”
“I don’t have proper words for this.”
“Guess what?”
“What?”
She bursts out laughing. “That’s the veggie one.”
I stop chewing and glare at her, but she only giggles harder…and this might be the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. No, I know it is. A million miles away from ordinary and this girl makes me feel like I couldn’t possibly exist anywhere else. Not without her.
“Shiloh—”
I’m about to tell her I love her, that it’s crazy but I love her, when she abruptly stops laughing, her gaze darting to a group of newcomers on the other side of the food court. “Oh God,” she whispers, sinking down into the booth. “I can’t believe it. Please don’t look over there.”
I’m already looking. “Who is that?”
“Nobody,’ she says, too quickly. “Just some kids from school.”
Turning back around to study her, I immediately know these are more than casual schoolmates. “They’re some of the ones who bullied you, aren’t they?”
She doesn’t answer, which is an answer in itself.
“Please don’t say anything,” she implores me.
I really don’t want to embarrass Shiloh any more than these people already have, but it’s causing me physical strain to watch her shrink into herself when she is the most incredible person I’ve ever met. Unique and open-minded and passionate and utterly beautiful. Even without meeting this pack of weasels, I already know they can’t hold a candle to her. No one could. “I won’t say a word unless they say something first, sugar. But if they say something unkind to you, not even God will be able to save them. Is that fair?”
“I guess,” she whispers, no longer eating.
“Good.” I look over my shoulder again. They’re close now. Maybe five, six tables away. I’m not sure if I’m hoping they’ll say something shitty…or dreading it. “Jesus, those boys are scrawny as all get out. They’re your age?”
“Yeah.” Her eyes run the length of my shoulders. Apparently, we don’t grow them like we used to.”
“My baby cousin, Eugene, could whoop those boys.” I jerk my thumb to indicate the approaching group. “And he’s eight.”
Some of the color returns to her face. “Say more.”
“They’ve got necks like pencils. I could go all day.”
“Oh my God,” comes a nasally voice behind me. “They really will let anyone in here.”
