“I see you finally took the plunge,” Allison said, glaring daggers at us.
“Allison.” I paused. “I didn’t actually catch your name before,” I said, apparently a little angrier than I thought I was.
“It’s Tony.”
“You don’t need to talk to them. Seems they found exactly what they were looking for. Good luck to the two of you.” Allison turned to Paris. “You’re going to need it.”
And then she turned away, dragging Tony with her. I turned to Paris, wincing.
“Sorry about that.”
Paris pressed her lips together before bursting out laughing, her shoulders shaking. Others had already been staring at us, and now they were giving us weird looks before pointedly turning away.
“What is so funny?”
“Oh, just the fact that you witnessed me on two very horrible dates that were quite embarrassing, and now I got to be part of yours.”
“I’m not dating Allison. I’m on a date with you. And in a new version of hell where my ex shows up randomly.”
“Welcome to my horror of dating. I mean, it wouldn’t be me on a date if things didn’t go horribly wrong.”
I reached across the table and gripped her hand. “Nothing’s gone wrong yet. Don’t discount me right out of the gate.”
She didn’t move her hand back. Instead, she rubbed her thumb down my forefinger, frowning.
“I told you, I’m not good at this.”
“The others didn’t set you up with me. We set each other up.”
“I guess this doesn’t count as the pact then.”
“We can make it count if that will appease your pact gods. And, frankly, I don’t want to think about you going on another date while you’re on a date with me. Call me a caveman.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” she said with a laugh.
“Plus, the girls already know we’re on a date, so there’s no going back now.”
“Macon knows, too. And if the girls know, so does Cross. And I’m sure Nate found out from one of the brothers or Arden.”
“Maybe. It does sound like a very complicated web.”
“Or perhaps it’s because we have some great friends and family who care about us, who happen to know we’re out together. And now we don’t have to talk about them. We can order a very nice steak, and maybe a lobster, and split it to make our version of surf and turf, and then enjoy our date.”
“I’m sold. But if you order your steak well-done, it’s over.”
“How dare you desecrate a cow like that?”
She laughed again, and when the waiter came back, we placed our order, and I leaned forward, looking at her.
She was beautiful, and I loved that she never toned it down, never hid her beauty. Only she didn’t always vamp it up, at least at work.
I understood why she didn’t, considering that Benji and the rest were jerks about it.
I liked that she had gone all out for our date, with the smoky eye and all the other stuff that women did.
When the meals came, we split them up, and I groaned at the first bite.
“You’re pretty much going to have to roll me out of here.”
“Can we roll each other? Is that possible? Oh my God, I forgot about the warmed butter. I forgot what spice they add to it. It’s perfect.”
“Then the other butter that they have too for the steak? I think my arteries are clogging just talking about it, but I don’t care. Is it okay if we don’t talk much while we eat?”
“It’s fine. We already talked enough. Dig in.”
We laughed, and still talked, but about nothing too important.
We didn’t need to talk about our pasts, though I didn’t have one worth noting. I was an open book, but I knew Paris had a past. I wasn’t going to pry. At least, not yet. That’s not what first dates were for.
By the time we finished dessert because, of course, we had to share some tiramisu, I was so full I wasn’t sure I could fit into my car.
“That was so amazing,” Paris said, rubbing her belly over her dress.
“Hell yeah, it was. I’m about to have to undo the top button of my pants, though.”
I laughed when she blushed again and stopped rubbing her stomach.
“I guess the whole acting sexy or whatever thing on a date probably doesn’t include eating your weight in lobster and steak.”
“It could. I mean, we already know each other, at least well enough. We’re past some of the weird and awkward firsts. At least the ones that you had on your blind dates.”
“Nothing can be worse than those blind dates,” Paris said.
“That is true. I mean, although the waitress did check you out, I wasn’t going to invite her along for a threesome.”
“Good, because then I’d have to hurt you, and that’s a whole thing I wasn’t in the mood to deal with.”
I shook my head as we made our way back to her place.
I pulled into her driveway and turned off the car.
She looked at me then, her mouth parted ever so slightly, her eyes full of anticipation, the same emotion I knew she’d see in mine.
“Do you want to come in for a drink?” she asked, her voice as strong and steady as the Paris that I knew.
“If I go in for a drink, Paris, I’m not going to take a sip. You know that, right?”
“Then you’d better get inside.”
And then she was out of the car, and I was doing my best to get out of my seatbelt to chase after her.
My pulse raced, and my hands practically shook, but then we were inside, and my hands were on her face, and my mouth was crushed to hers.
She tasted of the wine from dinner and our dessert—a little bit of coffee, and a whole lot of sweetness.
I wanted more. I craved it. So, I kept kissing, kept wanting more.
Our tongues clashed, her hands on my back, mine going over her shoulders and then down her back, cupping her ass over the softness of her dress. I rocked against her, my cock hard behind the zipper of my pants. I ached.
I pulled away, just enough so I could breathe in her scent.
“Are you sure, Paris?” I asked, my body shaking.
“Are you sure that I want you to kiss me and fuck me right now? Yes, I’m sure.”
I grinned and then bit her lip gently.
“I like that word out of your mouth. Fuck.”
“Bite me again, and see what I do.”
I bit her again, and when she moaned, I licked away the sting. Then she slid her hand between us, cupping my dick. I groaned, rocking into her hold.
“Can’t wait to see what you’ve been hiding under those slacks of yours this entire time.”
“You’ve seen me in jeans, too. I think they showcase my ass better.”
“I might’ve noticed.”
I licked up her neck and bit her earlobe.
“Oh?”
“Exactly. Now, no more talking. Get down to the fucking.”
“That I can do,” I said, and then I kissed her again, this time sliding my hand over the slit on her dress. I cupped her thigh, and then angled around, sliding up to cup her ass.
“What are you wearing under this?” I asked, my voice throaty.
“Why don’t you check and see?”