I sigh. “I thought we were going to remain strangers, tonight.”
“Touché.” He tells me. “Just a stunning woman and equally stunning man, having dinner on a Friday night.”
“Exactly,” I say, unable to take my eyes off the chest that peeks out of the shirt with the top button undone.
He leans back in his chair, a smirk on his undeniably handsome face. “Ah, so you admit you find me irresistible then?”
Laughing, I shake my head. “Irresistible? Incorrigible is more like it.”
The waiter brings over a bottle of wine, and after pouring my uninvited dinner companion a glass without a taster, he tops off mine. We order food, and the man I’m dining with dismisses the poor waiter like he’s a servant of his.
“So, Kennedy Edwards, tell me about yourself?”
“The fact that you know my name, kinda tells me you already know everything there is to know, including my blood type.” I’m not even surprised. Men like this make it their business to know everything there is to know about anyone of interest to them.
“You got me.” He holds my gaze. “I found u, intriguing. I wanted to know more about the pretty painter on the beach.”
“I’m at a disadvantage then because I know nothing about you.” I purse my lips together, averting my gaze to the view of the lights on the promenade instead of the sexy yet frustrating man in front of me.
“You’re annoyed?” He asks, and I meet his self-satisfied gaze.
“What does it matter if I am? I ask.
“It doesn’t.” He takes a sip of his wine. “You wouldn’t have dinner with me, when I asked-”
“Demanded.” I interrupt. “And that doesn’t give you the right to invade my privacy.”
My annoyance seems to amuse him.
“Did I say something funny?” I say under my breath.
“No, you’re just really hot when you’re angry.”
The waiter appears with our meals and I decide I’m not getting anywhere trying to explain how stalkerish that behavior is. Steak for him, a mushroom ravioli for me. I thank the waiter when I realize the asshole isn’t going to. I roll my eyes.
He grins at my expression, cutting into his steak. I scrunch my face at the sight of the blood seeping onto his place. Being vegan does have its downfalls when you’re dining with a carnivore.
“Have you always been vegetarian?”
“Vegan.” I correct. “And yes. I have been vegan for years.”
“So, meat has never passed those lips.”
I frown. “I’d think that’s a little obvious, genius.” I take a sip of my wine, deciding that downing the glass might be the better option. I’m heady and in good spirits, as my eyes keep landing on the beach guy’s lips. Maybe if I was wild and reckless, I’d let him fuck me in the restroom against the sink. But I’m none of those things.
“Have you sucked dick before, Ms. Edwards?” I laugh so hard, I snort. “Wow! I am not even going to entertain that with a response.” I can feel my cheeks heat because of the train of my thoughts before that question.
“It’s a simple question?”
“An ignorant one, but pretty simple. Yes, I can suck dick. I’ve sucked several, and I don’t give a shit what you think about it.”
This whole conversation is nauseating. Maybe it’s the wine. Perhaps I need air. My cutlery clatters as it falls onto my plate. “I’m done here,” I say, wiping my mouth with a napkin, before placing it down on the table. I don’t even see him grabbing for my wrists, but before I know it, his hand is wrapped around it, and his eyes practically glower.
“Let me go,” I say through gritted teeth, ignoring the effect his touch has on me.
“We’re not done here.” He dares me to disobey, and I take pleasure in standing, shrugging off his hold, throwing a few notes on the table, and rushing out of the restaurant. The warm air outside makes me feel suffocated. I hail a cab, and only let out a breath when I’m safely in it. What the hell was I thinking? That man obviously isn’t someone to play around with.
5
