Page 55 of Casita Casanova
“That’s not working for me,” he says through clenched teeth.
On the contrary, Cas, it seems to be working quite well.I raise an eyebrow in challenge.
“Maryn.” He swallows hard. “Please get up.” His words are strained. His eyes are dark, heated with a hunger unlike any I’ve ever seen directed my way.
Even when things were good, even way back in the beginning when we were young, Eddie never looked at me like that.
It steals my breath and makes my legs turn to mush.
“Please,” he urges.
“I don’t think I can,” I whisper.
He nods in understanding, then gently hauls me up to my feet, pulling me into his arms. I don’t squeal when the wetness from his pants soaks into mine. And I don’t moan when the hard length of his erection introduces itself to my lower belly, even though I have to fight not to. He holds me to him, with one hand splayed across my lower back and the other still gripping my bicep for long enough that I’m sure we have the attention of the entire patio by now.
It has gotten considerably quieter.
“I thought cold things had the opposite effect,” I say, voicing my thoughts out loud because I have no filter around this man.
His lips quirk up on one side. “They usually do.” His gaze drops to my lips, then quickly back to my eyes. “I’m getting you all wet.”
I make a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a whimper and his eyes light up with mirth.
“Should we get our food to go?”
I nod.
Cas releases me, keeping one hand on my upper arm as I settle back into my seat, then he motions for the server, who’s just sort of lingering in the doorway. Either she’s afraid he’s pissed, or we made such a spectacle of ourselves that she was afraid to interrupt.
Good grief.I hope it’s not the latter.
But I don’t dare look around at the other diners, for fear of confirming my concerns.
“Here,” the server says as she reaches our table. She drops a stack of paper napkins into his lap and they spill onto the floor. Cas starts laughing. “Can we just get some tacos to go? The assorted platter?” He looks at me for confirmation and I nod. It’s what I was going to order anyway.
“Would you like three, five, or seven?”
He keeps his eyes on me as he says, “Ten.”
“Ten? Um, we don’t have a—”
The smile falls from his face as he looks up at her. “Make it two fives. Or a three and a seven. Surprise me.”
“Oh, okay.” She nods. Poor thing.
“Togo,” Cas emphasizes. “And make it fast, please. I’m all wet.”
You and me both, Cas West.
“Do you want more margaritas? Um, we can make them to go, you just, like, can’t open the straw until you get home.”
Cas purses his lips, his brow furrowed as he clearly bites back a laugh. “If I promise not to open the straw, huh?” He shakes his head. “Sure. We’ll take the margaritas to go.”
When she leaves again, he pins me with those pale green eyes. “Are all of your first dates this exciting, Maryn?”
I bark out a laugh, then quickly cover my mouth. “It’s not a date.”
“You won’t just give that one to me, you know, for sympathy?”
