She looked at the menu. “How about a…” She tapped her fingers. “Oh, I don’t know…” She bit her lip. It was a big decision. “Coffee?”
“Great choice,” I said, latching onto coffee and running with it before she changed her mind.
I could practically feel the heat of Reyes’s gaze on me. But better me than Francie. That was my motto.
The lunch rush was even worse than the day before, and it was only Reyes’s second day. I thought about demanding Dixie hire more help, but since I’d just fallen through her ceiling, I decided against making demands for the time being.
Reyes glared but made sure I ate. Francie flirted and made sure I noticed. Erin glowered and, well, glowered some more. Cookie only assaulted one customer, and it wasn’t nearly as sexually charged as her normal fare. And Lewis? Lewis was in love. Shayla didn’t come in until five, but I could see him counting down the minutes. My heart wanted to burst little hearts out of its left ventricle for them both.
With only about thirty minutes left on the clock, I walked into the kitchen to see how Lewis was doing, but before I could talk to him, Reyes looked up and said, “It’s been almost seven hours, and you’re still alive. I’m impressed. Figured you would’ve abandoned all hope by now.”
I let out a loud sigh, turned on my heel, and left. But I didn’t go far. I went into Dixie’s office, actually. She was out on a bank-slash-nookie run – I was pretty sure she was practicing the popular pastime referred to as an afternoon delight with a boyfriend she kept stashed somewhere – so I helped myself again to the belt from her canvas trench.
I rolled it into a ball, stashed it in the back of my pants, and went in search of a victim. I stormed into the kitchen so fast, the door ricocheted back and almost slammed into my face. It didn’t. I caught it, but just barely.
Reyes arched a brow. I strode up to him and pushed, walking him back until we were between the prep counter and the walk-in unit. It allowed us a tidbit of privacy. I continued to push until I had him up against the wall. His dark irises sparkled with interest. Especially when I brought the belt around, gathered his wrists in front of him, and tied him up.
Tendrils of heat slid beneath my clothes as he looked down at me, and I wondered if he was doing it on purpose. How much control did he have over the heat he emitted, the energy he radiated?
He wasn’t that much taller than me, not quite a head, but I grabbed Sumi’s stepstool and placed it at his feet. Now we stood eye to eye, and his particularly mesmerizing eyes held both humor and intrigue.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. He let me. It started out sweet and sensual, but it quickly escalated into a kiss more passionate than I dreamed possible. Then his arms were free and around me. Somehow he managed to reverse our positions so my back was to the wall instead of his, and still keep me on the stool.
He raised a hand to my jaw and lifted, exposing my neck so he could place blisteringly hot kisses on it. I gasped and tilted my head farther to give him more access. An arc of heat followed his trail, and I curled his hair into my fists, pulling him closer, begging him not to stop.
“I’m sorry, Dutch,” he said, doing the exact opposite.
My body screamed in protest.
“For this.”
I thought he was apologizing because he’d stopped. He was apologizing for the almost translucent bruises he left on my throat. They were barely visible, but he ran his fingers over the ones he could see. It caused the most amazing sensations to race down my spine and dart between my legs.
I refocused on him. On his full mouth. On his clenched jaw. On his serious expression.
“I claim you,” I said, sounding silly, but I didn’t care. After I ran my fingers over his mouth, I said, “You’re mine.”
“I always was. But what about your suicidal tendencies?”
“None of that other stuff matters right now.” I tightened my arms around his neck.
He moved one hand to my lower back. The other rested on my rib cage. “It does if you were serious. Which you were.”