Page 87 of Hidden Fears
“Do you think I’ll break a leg if I jump down?” She lets out an inappropriate giggle.
“Let’s not find out.” I walk up to her, carefully place my hands on her waist, and lift her up. Her hands end up on my shoulders.
Even when I put her down on the ground.
“Josie.” My voice turns pleading.
“What?” She looks up.
“Don’t do that.” I’m not above begging right now since I need all the help I can get, from her included.
“Don’t do what?” Her long lashes form shadows on her cheeks as her eyes dip to my mouth.
I swallow. “Do this thing you do with your hands, you know.”
She instantly pulls her hands away, looking scared. “I’m sorry, Kenneth, I didn’t know you don’t like being touched.”
I sigh. “I do, Josie. A little bit too much.”
A look of understanding glazes over her eyes for a second, but then it’s replaced with her signature cheeky smile. She lightly smacks my shoulder and heads toward the restaurant.
The moment we get inside, I understand how stupid my idea to come here really was. Should have gone to some drive-through where no one would see her in the security of the darkness of my truck. Because every single pair of male eyes is on the woman next to me.Mywoman.
I place my hand on her lower back and send threatening looks at every single motherfucker who doesn’t get the message. A few drop their eyes back to whatever they are doing, but some don’t. I squeeze my hand in a fist, itching to smack their faces. One particularly dumb asshole can’t take his eyes off Josie’s ass. I follow his eyes and find her dress ridden a bit up. I lean toward her bottom and pull the hem of her dress down.
“What are you doing?” Her head whips around as she asks me, but I ignore her because my eyes are focused on the motherfucker who dared to stare. Once he sees me being so familiar with her and my hands on her ass, his eyes rise to mine for a moment before they return back to his buddies at the table.That’s right, asshole, she’s with me.
I feel a bit better.
“Kenneth?” she calls out again, sounding a bit confused, but I just slightly nod my head, hoping she’ll drop it. She’s a smart woman because she watched my face for a few seconds before sliding her small hand into mine. I glance at our interconnected fingers and take a deep breath. “Better now?”
I nod. “Let’s eat.” I pull her with me toward the bar.
“Hey.” I wave at the bartender. Once he comes to us, I ask, “Do you have a table available somewhere?”
“We have a few empty bar chairs over there.” He points to the side. “That’s about it.”
I look at the chair, which is too high. I imagine how her legs will be on full display for everyone to enjoy, so I decide that going home is probably the better idea. But she doesn’t hear said idea because she’s already dragging me by my hand toward the spot the bartender pointed at. When she climbs on the top of it and crosses her legs, I clench my jaw so tight, I’m sure a couple of my teeth crack.
I take the other chair, still grinding my teeth.
Once she leans on the counter and waves for the bartender, my blood pressure skyrockets. And it reaches its peak when he starts talking to her tits rather than her face. I place my hand in front of her and start tapping my fingers on the wood. That sure draws his attention. He gives me a sly smile and finally moves his eyes up to her face.
How does every single human with a dick want to play on my nerves today? It’s like the universe decided to see how far it could push me.
In the meantime, I hear her ordering us two burgers with fries. She didn’t even ask what I wanted, and to my surprise, I don’t fucking care. She can order what she wants for me—I couldn’t care less as long as she covers her tits.
The bartender’s eyes keep dipping down, and by the time he leaves, my breathing comes out in angry puffs. I grab the hem of my jersey shirt and pull it off with one move, staying in the thin T-shirt I had underneath.
Her eyes go wide.
I push the shirt at her. “Put it on.”
“W-why?” she stumbles, still looking confused.
“It’s cold.” I keep holding it outstretched.
“I’m actually hot.”
