Page 57 of Dining for Love

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Page 57 of Dining for Love

I stand and close the distance between us, raking my eyes over her body. Droplets of water cling to the pale skin of her shoulders, and I’m aching to pull her to me. My cock twitches, but I’m apparently committed to being an asshole, because the next words out of my mouth are, “Pretty sure I’m better acquainted with the civil code than you, sweetheart.”

“You’ve been here a month. How much could you possibly know?” she scoffs, backing against the wall as I crowd her.

She smells fucking delicious, some kind of vanilla and brown sugar combo that’s driving me wild. A bead of water drips from her hair onto her collarbone, and I’m so desperate to touch her that I run my finger over her skin to catch the drop. Her breath hitches, and I lift my finger away, putting it into my mouth and sucking on it. Her eyes darken. I lower my voice. “Why don’t you trust that I know all about entering things, Willa?”

She flushes, her creamy skin splotching with embarrassment at my words. “Leave.”

I smirk. “You don’t mean that.”

She licks her lips and juts her chin up. “Then tell me, Reid, whatdoI mean?”

“Look at you, being a little brat,” I murmur, moving so close that her chest touches mine with every shaky inhale she takes. “Did I pound that brattiness into you last night when I fucked you?” She gasps, and I grab her hand to flatten it against my stiff-as-hell cock. “See, my little Willa, I think what you really mean is that you want this.” Then I pull her off the wall to press her against me. Immediately, she softens, so I know I’m reading her correctly. “And I think you want me to worship your lusciousbody in the way it was meant to be worshipped: one inch at a time.”

Her eyes flash. “I don’t think I like you.”

I chuckle darkly and rip her towel off. “I think you do. And you know what?”

She’s trembling now, but I know it’s with anticipation because she’s angling closer, rising on her tiptoes, her pupils blown with lust. “What?” she whispers.

“I’m just the man to do it.”

With that, I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist, grinding against me without hesitation.

“Fine,” she mutters, leaning in for a kiss.

I let her control it. She’s angry and rattled, and she pours every emotion into the kiss as she digs her short nails into my skin. And I want it. I want all of her. All her thoughts, all her fears, all her hopes and dreams. Groaning, I spin us to lay her on the bed, taking in all her beautiful curves. She’s still so innocent, trusting implicitly that I’ll take care of her, and every instinct in me roars to possess her, protect her, make her mine.

She’s fucking perfect. Two months isn’t enough.

Shoving that thought out of my head, I toe off my shoes and socks and get undressed, trying hard not to preen under her watchful gaze. Without a word, I yank her to the edge of the bed and sink to my knees, burying my face between her legs.

Her response is immediate, and I lose myself in her, relishing the yank of her hands on my hair, the way she bucks against my face, the way her legs shake and tremble as she comes. Her taste. Dear God in heaven, hertaste.

I need more. Crave it. She clings to me as I crawl up her body and she locks her gaze on me, her eyes still glassy. “Reid,” she breathes.

“Tell me you have condoms.”

She points in the direction of her bedside drawer. Wordlessly,I grab them and toss them on the mattress, then pull her to me, guiding her up to straddle me.

“Fuck, you look good like this,” I murmur. Her hair is still damp and falling long and tousled down her back, her bangs fluttering into her eyes. Her breasts, a perfect handful with delicate rose-pink nipples, perk up as I run my hands over them. Then I grip her waist, groaning at the way her flesh fills my hands. “These curves, Willa.”

She’s focused on my chest, where her hands have been running over the muscles and down, then back up again, studiously avoiding the gunshot wound. She’s quiet. “I’m nothing special.”

“That’s a load of shit,” I say, and judging by the way she jerks, it was definitely too aggressive. I soften my voice. “You’re amazing. You’re strong, funny, an incredible cook?—”

She scoffs. “I’m well aware of how little I know, thanks to my one semester of school.”

“You were the victim of an egotistical man who felt threatened by someone as young and beautiful and creative andgoodas you.” I try to control my voice. I hate it when men tear women down in an effort to build themselves up.

Her eyes widen. “Did you watch it?”

I nod. “Every episode you were in. And he was an unmitigated asshole.”

She worries her lower lip. “You think so?”

I grab a condom. “I know so.” Then I hand it to her. “You know what else I know?”

She turns those doe eyes on me, and my cock jumps. “What?”




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