Not until I can get a good enough reading on this guy.
Chapter Six
Rowan
I’m a fucking idiot.
Touching her was a mistake. I can still feel the softness of her slender hand on my palm. My fist keeps tightening on the steering wheel as if it can recount every inch of exposed flesh I held in mine. Her scent, lightly floral and sweet, fills the cab, and every breath I take is edging me closer to reaching across the console, gripping the nape of her neck, and shoving my face into the space where her shoulder and throat meet so I can get a hit straight from the fucking source.
I should have turned Atlas down.
Every moment spent in Addison’s presence is like a temptation being dangled in front of me. I keep trying to hide the deepest parts of my sick mind, but it doesn't cover what I have stashed away in the bed of my truck.
What the fuck was I thinking?
I turn into the diner just outside the city limits of New York, taking in the rundown eatery. The front steps leading to the glass doors are busted and worn, and the dim lights through the storefront glass flicker.
“This looks like a horror movie,” Addison mutters.
“Looks can be deceiving,” I pull into a spot and park, shifting to face the woman beside me.
Can she sit any closer to the door?
She hums, scanning the area. “World’s best coffee served in the portal to Hell? What could be worse?”
That fucking mouth of hers.
My palm twitches, and I cover it by opening my door and climbing out. She follows behind me, folding her jacket closedover her chest and crossing her arms as she peers around at the surrounding morning fog. It’s thick and unrelenting, but I've driven in far worse.
The bell over the door chimes as I walk over the sticky tiled floors. The air smells like old grease, bacon, and stale coffee—a staple to any good establishment.
A woman in black pants and a white T-shirt with the diner’s logo stamped on the front stands behind the counter. She rings up a ticket as her eyes flicker to us. “Take a seat anywhere and I’ll be with you shortly.” She shoves her notepad into her apron before shouldering the kitchen’s swing door hard and disappearing into the back.
Addison glances around, rocking back on her heels as she shoves her hands into her lavender coat’s pockets. She tilts her chin towards the back of the restaurant. “What about that table?”
She motions to the very last red and white booth at the end, and I nod. She leads me to it, attempting to take the seat with a direct view of the front door, but I stop her.
“Take the other one.”
She halts mid-sit, lifting a brow at me. “Don’t tell me you have a designated seat—”
I place my hands on the table, growing tired of the smart comebacks as I get eye level with her. “It’s so I can see the door. Take the other side.”
Her brows pinch as her eyes flicker across my features. They shift to the door before she shuffles out and walks around me to plop down on the opposite side. “Asshole.” She mutters, taking her purse off and dropping it on the bench beside her.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and slide in across from her. I take note of our surroundings: two patrons are seated on the other side of the establishment, and one man is currently eating his breakfast at the counter. Three people in total. I peer out at the parking lot, noting the two vehicles parked, and finally sit back.
My legs are bent, almost touching the underside of thetable, and I shift slightly to get a little more comfortable. Booths have never been easy for me. There isn’t enough space for me to stretch out, and I feel like the table is too close.
“You look uncomfortable,” Addison observes before pulling her phone out of her purse. She rolls her eyes at the screen before typing something and then setting it down beside her.
“What’s wrong?” I ignore her comment, becauseI amuncomfortable, but there isn't much I can do without invading her half of the booth.
She taps a fingernail on the table, resting her chin in her other hand. “Talking to a stranger about my personal life? Pass.”
There goes that fucking mouth again.
My fist tightens at my side as I resist the urge to reach across and collar her throat with it. To watch those enchanting eyes flutter as her mouth goes slack. Her nails would bite into the flesh of my wrist as I choked her. The only issue is, I want to feel her pussy spasm around my cock as I stroke into her with abandon.
