Page 53 of Taboo

“I take it you like your eggs runny?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ll place an order. Why don’t you grab that table?”

She glanced over where he motioned and then hurried to the table. What the hell had he been thinking bringing her here? It was mainly a take-out joint with very little seating, and it was kind of…well it was local. It wasn’t what she was accustomed to. But she waved and smiled at him like he had taken her to a five-star establishment. She then played with her phone. It looked like she was texting with someone.

By the time he got their orders and brought them to the table, she had set her phone down.

“Texting?”

Dammit. He had no right to know who she was texting, but he wanted to beat the shit out of whoever it was—if it had been a man.

“With Nic. She loves this place. Although, her favorite place is Giovanni’s.”

He set their plates on the table, then handed her the silverware.

“This looks amazing.” She looked at his plate, then up at him. “What did you get?”

“It’s a shoyu chicken plate.”

“Hmm.” She eyed his food and he laughed and cut off a piece of chicken, then placed it on her plate.

“Thank you.” She blushed prettily, and he knew when she did, it went all the way down to her amazing tits. God, the woman was his undoing.

She’s just a friend.Remember that, asshole.

She cut into her egg and sighed when the yoke dribbled out. “Oh, that is lovely.”

He laughed and she looked up at him. “Sorry. I just never heard anyone describe it that way.”

She smiled at him, then scooped up some of her food. When she slipped it between her lips, she moaned. And not some little moan, a big moan, like the kind she let out in bed.

He shifted in his seat as his cock threatened the ability of his zipper to stay shut.

“That is amazing. Who would have thought that such a weird combo would turn out to taste like this?”

He dug into his own food. “I would think a Brit wouldn’t have such a good palate.”

“Well, we traveled a lot as children. Mother always wanted us to explore and go beyond the English palate.”

“So, you stayed in fancy hotels and ate there?”

“Sometimes, but a lot of times it was a mix. We ate at the oldest restaurant in Paris, some little dive my parents loved in Mexico—which we had to flee after eating because of a shooting.” She said it with a laugh. “And then there was Singapore. I love that place.”

“Yeah, the food market there is fantastic.”

“You’ve been?”

He nodded. “Went there with a few of my buddies once.”

“See. I wanted to go on a tour of Singapore, and Malaysia, all that area as a honeymoon trip.”

“I take it Gregor wasn’t interested?”

She snorted. “I think he was uncomfortable with people of color.”

“So, let me get this right. He was boring and racist?”

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