Page 35 of Born into Blood

“Do guys really sit around eating steak and watching strippers?” The image has me laughing before I can stop it. “I mean, how stereotypical is that? A big hunk of meat in their mouths while they watch a pair of bouncing titties.” I clutch my stomach and laugh even harder, mortified when I accidentally snort.

Luka laughs and smiles down at me. “Well, that was kind of fucking adorable, kisa. And to answer your question, they must, because that club brings in a shit ton of money. I wouldn’t know personally, because I’ve never been there. It’s not really my thing.”

“I thought gorgeous women were every man’s thing.”

He shoves the empty bags aside and turns to open the fridge. While he grabs a couple of cokes, he says, “Not every guy is the same. I’ve never seen the appeal of strip clubs. My family owns Pink. I could go there any damn time I want, yet I’ve never stepped foot inside the building because I don’t want to. It doesn’t interest me.”

“What does interest you?”

He cups the back of my head and kisses my forehead. “You do.”

And with that, he hands me the drinks while he grabs our plates and leads the way. Stepping through the French doors, I see the large rooftop terrace, and as beautiful as it is, it’s the table that catches my eye. Fairy lights hang delicately from the awning above us, and there’s a beautiful bouquet of red roses waiting for me.

“Did you do all this?” I whisper, leaning down to bury my face in the velvety petals, inhaling the sweet scent of them. No one’s ever bought me flowers before, and I’m seconds away from crying and ruining the makeup I worked so hard on.

“I did.” He sets our plates down and then pulls a chair out for me.

I look up at him, still stunned as I take the seat he offers. “I can’t believe you did all this.”

He smiles and spreads his arms out. “What about me doesn’t scream sappy romantic?”

Luka screams a lot of things, most of them the panty-wetting kind, but he doesn’t exactly scream I’m a big softie who loves to cuddle and buy you flowers.

“I’m a little insulted that you still look so stunned,” he tells me as he takes his own seat across from me. Sliding the beautiful vase to the side so we can see each other better, he nudges my own plate towards me. “You need to eat, kisa.”

No one would look at me and think I’m in dire need of calories, but Luka seems so sincere, like he’s genuinely concerned about me being hungry, and when I grab my fork, he gives me the most beautiful smile, and I fucking melt for him.

When I take my first bite of steak, my tastebuds come to life, and I moan around my fork. Luka’s eyes darken as they lock on my mouth, and I seriously start to rethink my one-date rule. One night could never be enough with this man.

I’m not so sure a lifetime would even be long enough.

Chapter 6

Luka

Iwatch Lara eat her meal, each swallow, each lick of her tongue along her lips, and each soft moan she gives makes my dick a little harder until I’m convinced I’m never going to be soft again.

My cock fucking aches for her.

There are so many questions I want to ask her, but I don’t want to ruin the show she’s unknowingly putting on for me, so I don’t interrupt her. I just sit back and enjoy the sight of her, knowing without a doubt that this is far sexier than any lap dance at Pink. She’d looked so stunned when I told her I didn’t have any interest in strip clubs. The truth is I’ve never even been tempted to go into one. Random women dancing naked in front of a roomful of men hasn’t ever done shit for me. I don’t want what everyone else is looking at. I don’t want a woman who’s on full display. I crave something more.

And that something is currently licking her lips and swallowing down the last bite of her steak. I’m mesmerized by the sight of her delicate throat working, and all I can think about is how she’d look on her knees while I feed her something very different.

“I can’t believe I ate all that,” she says, giving me a cute, embarrassed grin while breaking my trance.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

She tucks back a strand of her hair and stacks her silverware onto her plate. “I shouldn’t eat so much, I guess.”

“Why the hell not?”

Her shoulders raise and lower in a small shrug. “Isn’t that more attractive to guys? A dainty salad and a very slender waist?”

“I don’t give a fuck what most guys think, and you have no idea how insanely erotic that show you just put on for me was.”

The look in her eyes is one of genuine surprise, leaving zero doubts about whether or not she’d been aware of what she was doing while eating. She hasn’t the faintest clue about how hard I am right now or how badly I want to pull her onto my lap and bury myself inside her.

I watch her cheeks heat up, turning an even darker shade of red before I put her out of her misery by changing the subject.

---