She startles, peeking up at me. The way her blush crawls up her cheeks has my dick twitching in my pants.
"Hey!" She quickly closes her book, trying to shove it in her bag, but I hold my hand out.
"May I?"
She hesitates for a split second before dropping it into my outstretched palm. My gaze scans across the title, but it tells me nothing. Neither does the cover. I flip it over to read the back.
Well, then…
My gaze flicks to hers, pinning her to the bench. "Is it any good?"
"Y-yes," she whispers, her voice shaking.
I nod, slipping it into my back pocket.
Her eyes widen, but she doesn't say anything. Instead, she slips her hand into mine, allowing me to pull her up from the bench. I want to kiss her right here, just to watch her tremble for me, but I settle for burying my face in her hair to breathe her in.
"You ready to eat, baby girl?" I rasp against her skin.
"Y-Yes."
I grin at her and then lead her to the hostess, requesting a table in the back. I keep my hand on her the whole time—rubbing the small of her back, stroking her wrist with my pinky—trying to get her used to being touched in public.
By the time we're led to our table in the very back corner, she's a trembling mess at my side.
I tuck her into the corner of the booth and then slide in beside her. She likes that. She grins up at me, just a tiny little smile.
It sets my blood on fire.
"You need time to look at a menu, or do you want those chicken tenders you didn't get last night?"
"The chicken tenders," she says.
I hand the menus back to the hostess. "We already know what we want."
"Cool." She smiles at me. "I'll go ahead and put it in for you, then send your waitress with your drinks."
I order quickly, and she hurries off, leaving us alone.
"How did your morning go?"
"I walked into a dildo argument," Sarah mutters.
"A what?" I blink.
Her cheeks turn pink. "Um, we have a display at the store. Lilah and Jazz were arguing about whether it was big enough when I got there."
"Ah," I murmur and then chuckle. "So…working at a bookstore is the equivalent of working on base, then."
She tilts her head up to me, smiling. "You mean your coworkers brandished sparkly dildos like weapons, too?"
"Not exactly," I chuckle. "But there was always one guy who thought shit could be bigger, and one who thought it was big enough."
"That sounds about right." She smiles up at me. "Jazz won. The display is staying. So is the annihilator."
"Annihilator?" I don't know why I ask. I'm pretty sure I don't even want to know. But her talking about vibrators and dildos in that sweet voice of hers? Yeah, I'm all over that.
"Um, the sparkly pink dildo," she mutters, squirming a little. "It's big."
