“The restaurant? Mostly that I didn’t have dinner yet.”
“I was actually talking about me and what I do,” I said, patting her leg. “But I can do something about the food situation.” I slid out from under her. “What are you in the mood for? Got a lot of shit around here. I dunno how room service is here, so it might be smart to stick to a place you already know is good.”
“I almost never eat out. So I’m not a good judge.”
I paused at that, trying to find a tactful way to ask what was in my head. “Is that a watching what you eat kind of thing?” Lord knew she didn’t need to have any kind of concerns about her figure.
“It’s a ‘I don’t make a lot of money, so I eat at home’ kind of thing. Mostly salads. Or cold sandwiches. I don’t have a stove.”
“Is that legal? In an apartment?”
“That was my same question. Apparently, yes. You just have to have safe conditions and running water. No stove regulations.”
“Huh. Feel like that’s just padding the landlord’s pockets and fucking over tenants.”
“Right? I miss hot food.”
“Well, I can do hot food. What are you feeling? Chinese? Italian? Mexican? Americana?”
I swear her eyes went hungrier with each mention. I knew what I had to do.
“That was way too much,” she complained (very half-heartedly) when I finished the last call.
Normally, I’d be ordering on an app to make life easier. But I wasn’t taking any chances that some local contract delivery guy was linked with Frank.
Delivery from each restaurant still allowed you to use cash and first names only.
Technology was the downfall of most criminals these days. As an organization, we’d learned to be careful as fuck about it.
“You’ve had a night,” I said, tossing my phone on the coffee table before reaching for her.
I just meant to pull her legs over my lap again, to continue to be an anchor and safe space.
But my damn greedy hands sank into her hips instead, drawing her up onto her knees, then over my lap.
I reached down, ruching up the skirt of her very tight dress so she could move to straddle me.
Maybe I could have just pulled her close, held her, offered her more comfort.
But then her eyes flicked up.
And I saw my own need reflected there.
She drew in a slow, deep breath, then dropped down onto my lap.
A soft little mewling sound escaped her when she felt me hardening beneath her.
She shifted, rocking herself against me.
Her eyes went foggy.
Her lips parted.
Her breath stuttered.
There was no way I could stop myself from sinking my fingers deeper into her hips and dragging her against me.
Her choked moan stole whatever was left of my control.
