“Thank you,” I murmur while my eyes drift over him.
Fuck.
He looked damn fine in his security uniform. But out of it? In the jeans, henley, and coat he has on? He looks fucking sinful. He looks like a decadent chocolate truffle.
Mymouth waters as I look at him and I can only hope mind reading isn’t one of his many skills. I know he has many. While he didn’t share a lot of detail, he did tell me a little about his time in the military. Finding out he served didn’t surprise me, he has a certain air about him. What I did find surprising was how easily he opened up to me about transitioning out.
Now he’s standing before me looking like pure temptation. I lick my lips without even realizing it and Joss lets out a low growl from the back of his throat.
“If you keep looking at me like that, Sugar, we’re never going to make it to dinner,” there’s a warning in his voice.
“Okay. Let’s go,” I squeak out the words as my thighs clench, and I’m tempted to just keep looking at him like I desperately want to devour him.
Joss offers me his hand, and I don’t hesitate to take it. I’ve been thinking about this for days. That feeling hits me again, like electricity gone wild at a rave, but it’s not as shocking this time. I’m certainly not immune to it, but it’s not quite as jarring.
Joss’s eyes soften as he looks at me before he leads me away from my house after, of course, allowing me a moment to lock everything up. His eyes keenly watch me as I do, and my chest warms at the thought of him wanting to keep me safe.
“Do you like Southern cooking that is homemade and filled with comfort?”
“Yes,” I chirp, probably far too excited about where we’re going to eat. “I don’t think anyone can be upset or stay mad when eating a perfectly fluffy biscuit or a golden-brown piece of fried chicken.”
His eyes sparkle as he opens the door of his truck for me. “Then I chose the right restaurant for us,” he declares and his chest puffs up with pride.
I can’t help but grin up at him before I climb into the seat and he closes the door once I’m safely inside. Watching him as he rounds the front of his truck and slides behind the wheel is like foreplay. His movements are so deliberate and capable; it’s sexy as hell.
While we’re driving, we chat about our day. He was doing security at a warehouse today which means it was slow and cold. I feel for him and tell him all about the drudgery that was my day. Insurance isn’t flashy and, frankly, I don’t want it to be.
“Did you order any more cock molds?” There’s a teasing lilt in Joss’s voice along with genuine curiosity.
“Not today, but the day isn’t over yet. You never know when the mood might strike me to add to my cock collection.”
Joss laughs, the sound filling the cab of his truck and burrowing into my marrow.
This man does something to me I was prepared to never experience. He takes away the weight of the world. He shoulders it with me without making me feel like a burden.
When we get to the restaurant, I reach for the handle, but he barks out, “Don’t you dare.”
I freeze, almost expecting him to say he wasn’t talking to me. I look toward him, my movements slow and measured like that would be enough to keep my ass safe. He’s glaring at my hand which is hovering near the door handle. When I snatch my hand back and rest it in my lap, he unclenches.
“Sugar,” his voice is so deep that I bet he could coax me into making a lot of bad decisions with far too much ease. It’s not really fair at all. “I want to open the door for you. It’s one of the ways that I can take care of you. First, I want you to feel pampered and special, but it also allows me to take a moment and ensure you’re safe and there’s no immediate threat.”
I blink up at him and can feel just how big and round my eyes are. What in the world is he even talking about?
“Joss,” I keep my voice soft and gentle, “that’s really sweet, but we’re in a safe area of the city. Nothing is going to happen to put me in danger.”
His eye harden, but it doesn’t frighten me because I’m not at all worried about him being upset with me. I have no idea why not, but there it is all the same.
“Syn, I know you don’t fully trust me or this,” he makes a motion in the space between us while he pauses, his voice dropping to a huskier note when he speaks again, “but I’m always going to need to keep you safe, whether the threats are real or not. Will you give me this?”
He’s pleading with his damn eyes and I crumble. I just shatter right there and give myself over to whatever this thing between us is. I’m aware it might not last forever, and I might get scared and try and talk myself of it later, but I think I have to take the risk here.
“Okay,” I whisper, my voice low in his truck, but loud in conviction. “I won’t open my door.”
With a grateful nod, he hops out of his truck and makes his way around to my side. When he helps me out, his hands are gentle but firm. It’s a heady combination and makes me wonder how it would feel to have him touching me all over.
My pussy gets even wetter and I squeeze my thighs together before he leads me toward the restaurant. They’re known for its southern style cooking, while elevating it from farmhouse tables to a dining experience. I’m not sure it needs elevating, but what do I know?
I’ve never been here before, but I’ve been curious.
