Perv(8)

He couldn’t be that bad. He was friends with Rafe, for heaven’s sake. Best friends. And he was clearly an educated man with a good job. His body was to die for. And he was interested in her.

What more could she ask for? Jenna hadn’t had sex in over a year. She’d been working her tail off to make sure Ribbons and Bows turned a profit so she could prove her worth to her damn family and make it on her own. That hadn’t left much time for fun. And sex had been off the table for so long she couldn’t remember the mechanics.

Jenna turned her gaze toward Mason as he took a drink of his draft beer. The foam layering the top lapped onto his upper lip, and he licked it away as he set the glass back on the table. Jenna imitated the motion with her own tongue, unable to stop herself, at the same time Mason turned his gaze to her. He paused when he saw what she did, staring at her lips while she licked them. When he lifted his gaze to her eyes, he winked. “Want a taste?”

Oh fuck. Was he talking about himself or the beer? Unwilling to find out, Jenna shook her head and jerked her gaze back to the front. His teasing made her squirm. She was certain he fully understood his pun. It was intentional.

Whatever Katy thought she knew about Jenna’s needs, Jenna made the mad decision at that moment to ignore reason. If this man was willing to fuck her senseless tonight, so be it. It was the best offer she’d had in too long.

•●•

Mason gulped his beer and set the glass down on the table, trying not to spill it with his shaky hand.

This woman was under his skin. He wanted her. And more importantly, she wanted him. She may not have known it, but she was coming around. She didn’t try to move her thigh away from his, and she let her elbow graze his as she continually reached for her wine glass and put it back. After the initial fortifying gulp she took, she sipped that damn white wine in such tiny increments, he couldn’t discern anything was missing with each drink.

“Have you been here before?” he asked as he opened the menu.

“No, you?”

He shook his head. “It’s Italian, though. I usually go for the lasagna. It’s generally a safe bet.”

“I’m sure the food is wonderful, or Rafe and Katy wouldn’t have chosen it.”

“True.”

It was insane the way he felt about Jenna. He’d barely met her. They’d exchanged few words. He couldn’t believe how hot he was for her. It took great strength and determination for him to order and eat his meal like a normal human being.

Jenna ordered some sort of salad and glared at him when he rolled his eyes. “What?”

“Is that all you women ever eat?”

“No. But I have to fit into a pretty slim dress tomorrow. I don’t need to feel like a whale.”

If they were alone, he’d have given her the riot act about selecting foods she enjoyed and eating until she was full rather than acting like a bunny. But they weren’t alone. And she wasn’t his woman.

She spent most of the meal chatting with Katy on her other side and making polite conversation with the couple across from them.

Mason spent the meal thinking about how good her thigh felt against his own and struggling to keep from setting his hand on her knee when she didn’t realize she was bouncing it nervously against him. He loved the feel of her and could care less if she fidgeted. It was endearing, but he wanted to calm her. It was in his nature.

The meal lasted forever. It seemed everyone, including himself, made a speech to the bride and groom. They toasted so many times, he worried about the amount of alcohol Jenna consumed. The last thing he wanted was for her to be inebriated to the point he couldn’t tell if she liked him or would take any man to her bed because she was drunk.

He needn’t have worried. She never asked for a second glass. She was the queen of faking like she was keeping up with everyone, and he admired a woman who knew her limits.

What the hell are you thinking? Stop it. He needed to talk himself down. This was no ordinary woman he could woo into his bed. This was Katy’s best friend. And he’d been warned off by Rafe. Off limits.

Except he couldn’t stop watching the way she moved, the way she held her glass, and the way she laughed and flipped her long hair back when she tipped her head.

She was poised and…almost regal. She didn’t carry herself like an ordinary person. She looked…refined. Except when he made her nervous.

When they bumped hands reaching for their glasses, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Excuse me.” Mason pushed his chair back and took brisk steps toward the back patio door. It was dark now. He hoped it had cooled off outside. He needed some air to clear his head—and get it straightened back onto his shoulders.