He leans closer, dropping his head next to mine. “I could disagree with you on that. There are people out there who are into some really fucked up shit. I’ve almost cried watching some of it.”
I fall into a laugh, letting my head tilt back against the booth. “Oh my God, I know what you mean. I accidentally stumbled on this video one time . . .”
“You accidentally stumbled on it?” he interrupts, the corner of his mouth lifting. “You mean, you were searching for porn, which is extremely hot to hear, and you came across a certain video.”
“I was not searching for porn.”
“That might be true, but if you don’t mind, I’m just going to keep imagining you were. I like that version of this story.” He lifts his hand off the table, sweeping it in front of him. “Please continue. I’m dying to hear all about your porn preferences.”
I shake my head through a laugh. “I’ve never searched for porn. Ever. If Google decides to throw in a few websites based on what I’m looking for, that’s not my fault. And I usually don’t click on them, but this one had a catchy title.”
“What was it?”
“Edward Penis Hands.”
He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “What the hell were you searching for that gave you that as a result?”
I shrug. “I heard they were remaking that movie, and I wanted to see if they had already started casting people. My search was very innocent. And in case you’re interested, the actor who played in that version was Johnny Dildo.” I smile. “I think it got the same ratings as the original movie.”
He laughs, low and soft in my ear. It’s husky, and deep, and so purely male.
I don’t know when he slid closer, but his entire side is formed against mine now. I don’t object to it. It feels good being with him like this. Hard versus soft.
I’m the soft one. In case there was any confusion.
The tight ridges of his stomach are pressing against my arm, while his toned leg keeps firm contact with mine. He smells fresh, a light clean scent that I’m thinking must be the soap he uses. He’s not wearing any cologne, and I love that. This is him. His natural smell mixed with the slightest fragrance. It’s not overpowering or offensive. If anything, I want to rub him all over me and absorb him into my skin.
‘Cause that wouldn’t be weird at all.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asks, and my cheeks burn up at the sentiment. I almost don’t want to tell him my name just so he’ll call me that instead. But I’m curious what my name sounds like coming out of that mouth. Really curious.
“Beth.”
“Beth,” he echoes, his tongue lingering on the th sound.
My God. This should be his job. Just saying words that end in th.
He runs his tongue along his lips, wetting them, as if he’s tasting the trace my name left on his mouth. I suddenly feel drugged at the idea of him doing just that. Savoring me.
His tongue. My skin.
“Beth Davis, right?”
Confusion creases my brow. I’m snapped out of my lustful thoughts with his question. “How do you know that?”
“I know Hattie. She told me you were her niece.” He smirks. “Right before she told me to stay away from you.”
I stare up at his face, a bit shocked.
Stay away from me? Why would she tell him that? This guy seems harmless. Dangerously charming, but harmless. Maybe she said it because of all the stuff I endured with Rocco. Maybe what I told Hattie this afternoon painted me as a victim, broken and beaten down, and she doesn’t think I’m ready, or strong enough for anything with another man. Not even innocent flirting. But I’m not broken. I’ve never believed the things Rocco said to me. He tried to crush my spirit, but he failed. Hattie doesn’t need to protect me. I’m ready. I’m more than ready for this.
The man lifts his hand off the table and uses it to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture has me sucking in a breath, but I stop breathing all together when he trails the back of his hand intimately down the side of my neck. Caressing me. Stroking me.
“I couldn’t leave you alone,” he confesses, his eyes following his hand. “I couldn’t sit at the bar, watching you, and only wonder what you felt like against me. I think I would’ve gone a little mad just staring at you.” His eyes meet mine. “You see that, right? You see that I had to come over here.”
I nod because I want to believe him. I want to believe he couldn’t stop himself from doing this.
There’s a good number of women in this bar, most of them dressed in tight, skimpy outfits, while I’m wearing tattered jeans and a T-shirt I cut up to fit me better. I’ve never had low self-esteem, but I am realistic. I know how I measure up next to the women in this bar. I’m a plain kind of pretty, while they shine in bold, vibrant colors. I’d normally go unnoticed in this crowd, or any crowd, but he notices me. This guy notices me.