to my cleavage which he admires with deep desire, his eyes darkening. They soften once they hit my stomach, a smile tugging at his lips until he drops his eyes to my legs, his eyes darkening once again as he takes me in.
My body hums with awareness, the desire pooling between my legs, and my pulse races with lust.
I want him.
I want him so goddamn much it hurts.
I tighten my legs together needing to ease the ache pulsing between them when his eyes once again reach mine. His eyes are still dark, his breathing heavy and his lips are now curved into his signature smirk, the same smirk that got me to notice him five years ago at fourteen years old. Even then I knew that smirk would be the death of me, and that it would only cause me heartache, but not once did I ever care.
I guess I wish I could go back in time and tell my fourteen year old self to open her eyes and tell her she will care.
Because trust me, I do. A lot!
“You look... fuck! You look beautiful, Denny,’’ he tells me, his smirk long gone and only honesty written in his expression.
“Thank you. You don’t look so bad ya’ self,’’ I grin, my eyes now trailing over his body just like he did with mine only moments ago. His large chest is covered by a dark purple buttoned up shirt, his large arms bulging through the material. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, but even still you can see how powerful they are with each muscle and vein tensing through his forearms. He’s wearing his normal Levi jeans, no rips like most of his other jeans have, and has paired them with a black belt. His legs look as powerful as his arms. They aren’t tree trunk built, but they’re powerful all the same; I should know, I have admired his body naked. And trust me when I tell you I stored every inch of his delicious body to memory so I’d never forget, including the dimples at the bottom of his large back. And although I’m only getting frontal visual at the moment, I can still picture how tight his ass will look in those jeans. How his muscles tighten when I scraped my nails down his back.
Shaking my thoughts before they go somewhere I’m not comfortable with yet, I make my way down to his shoes. Never have I seen Mason Carter wear a pair of black dinner shoes before. He looks so deliciously handsome I’m finding it hard not to jump him.
Which wouldn’t be a good thing at the moment considering this is our first date and I have a baby in my stomach that may get squashed in the process.
“You look real good,’’ I say when I reach his eyes, my tongue slowly licking my bottom lip.
We stare at each other for what seems like eternity, and nowhere near long enough before Mason looks away, his face filled with amusement and lust.
“Come on then before your belly starts demanding food,’’ he chuckles.
“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m feeding for two now. I don’t have to feel guilty for eating my body’s weight in food. It’s the only time we can do it without feeling guilty I’m sure,’’ I tease, not knowing what I’m talking about in the slightest.
“Come on then,’’ he laughs, and shuts the door behind me like a gentleman.
*** **** *** **** ***
Mason and I are seated straight away thanks to him booking in advance. The little restaurant he’s brought me to is half an hour away from where we live. I’ve never eaten here before, and from the looks of the decor I’m surprised I haven’t. This place is somewhere my mother would have dragged me to if she knew about the place, and I know for a fact she doesn’t because without a doubt she would have bragged to all her friends she had eaten here.
The place is beautiful with its candlelight settings and old wooden decor. It gives the place a homely, rich aroma. It’s inviting.
The place is painted blood red, the colour matching nicely with the dark wood, and beams. The place looks antique with old books littering the shelves, crooked candle holders, and old fashioned lighting. And in spite of all of the accessories decorating the place, it still manages to pull off that rich look to it.
“I promise, the place doesn’t look like much from the outside, but