“You showed up looking like that,” I replied. “This is on you.”
She finally met my eyes.
Yeah. There it was. That same look from years ago. The one that said she knew exactly what she was doing and wasn’t about to stop.
The food came out fast, steaming, rich with spice and gravy. She took one bite of oxtail and closed her eyes.
“Oh my God.”
I laughed. “Focus.”
“You brought me somewhere that requires focus,” she shot back, licking a bit of sauce from her thumb. “That’s dangerous.”
I watched that thumb longer than I should have. She noticed. Of course she did.
Her foot brushed my ankle under the table.
“You plan on heading back to work?” she asked, her voice softer now.
“I’m going to try.”
“That mean I have to behave?”
I leaned forward, lowering my voice just enough that the words stayed between us.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t.”
Her lips parted slightly. A breath. A pause.
Then she went back to eating like nothing happened — except now her knee rested against mine and didn’t move.
We talked between bites. About nothing important. Her parents. My brothers. Tyson still giving me hell. Her sister Jada still asking too many questions. Real life. The kind that kept moving whether we were ready or not.
But every now and then, the conversation would stall. And we’d just look at each other. Knowing lunch was just foreplay.
After paying the bill and promising to bring Sanaa back, we headed to my truck and pulled off.
We didn’t make it far.
I’d barely cleared the lot when her hand slid up my thigh again, this time with no hesitation. No teasing. No games. She leaned over, her breath ghosting against my ear.
“I’ve been wanting your pretty dick for lunch all day,” she purred.
My knuckles whitened on the wheel. I swerved into a barren gravel lot, heart hammering, breath short.
Her seatbelt clicked free like a challenge. She turned, kneeling on the seat—her ass high, arched perfectly in that black leather skirt that had me half-crazed since she stepped into my office. She hiked it up slow, just enough to bare the curve of her thighs, and reached for my belt like it was the only thing standing between her and salvation.
“You’re playing with fire,” I warned, already halfway gone.
She didn’t answer. Just freed me—smooth, sure—and licked her lips like I was dessert.
And then she devoured me.
Hot. Wet. Greedy. Her mouth slid down with intention, swallowing inch after inch until her lips kissed my base. I groaned—raw, guttural—gripping the seat beneath me.
When I looked down… Jesus.
Her lips stretched wide, spit pooling at the corners, her platinum hair framing her perfect face as she worked me deep and sloppy. Her throat fluttered, eyes shut, her body rocking with every pass like she needed this more than air.
