Page 17 of Cakewalk
Part of me felt like it’d be a shame to have things go straight to me burying myself in her tonight, but another part of me strained against my pants at the very thought of it.
Thank God for the tablecloth.
It had been five years. Not that I had any struggles with women in the past, but prison had a way of keeping you celibate whether you liked it or not.
This was an itch I really needed scratched now that I was out, and it seemed like she had been in a similar drought.
The front door opened, and a woman came in, the picture of elegance.
Jade?
Her dark blonde hair was done up in a bun, revealing an elegant neck and shoulders, which the thin straps of her tight black dress only further emphasized. The dress stopped halfway down her thighs, and she wore high heels that made her ass tighter than usual.
I suppressed an almost feral growl. I would have waited another five years locked up if that was what it took to have this. To have her.
I stood, and she spotted me and waved like a doofus. The waitress approached her and led her to our table.
Jade hesitated in front of me, as she seemed to wonder what the right course of action was. I could see her reasoning as she first lifted her hand as if to shake mine, then spread both arms out for a hug, then put her hands both firmly at her side and gave a little bow in greeting instead.
I didn’t have the mercy to immediately stop her little display, as I learned early on that her cheeks would burn red hot any time she did something silly, and it was about the most adorable thing I ever saw.
Finally, I hugged her, making it quick because God knows just the lightest touch of a woman was going to set me off.
I pulled back and walked around her to pull away her seat. “Oh, thank you!” she said, sitting down and clutching her little purse in her lap. She kept tugging at the bottom of her dress, as if she wasn’t used to wearing anything so short and revealing.
She was pushing herself out of her comfort zone—for me, of all people. I never felt so flattered in my life.
I pushed her chair in, then sat opposite her. “You look stunning,” I said.
She motioned at my suit. “You too. You never see people wearing suits around here, I’ll tell you what.”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever grow bored with that southern drawl. Of course, I’d been informed that I had one too, but it had to be much more subtle than hers. Georgia had been my home for only the second half of my life.
And most of that time had been spent in prison.
Would that scare her if she knew?
Jade sipped her water. “I bet not many people know there’s tattoos underneath your suit.”
“Yeah, I have to keep them covered in my line of work.”
“Yeesh. Is the business world still that posh these days?”
No, but the prison tattoos certainly wouldn’t go down well. “Sort of, at least in the South.”
A momentary silence fell between us, pleasant for me, probably very awkward for her. We shared a smile before she couldn’t handle it anymore and looked at the view of the ocean outside the windows.
Were we going to talk about that text message? Because I had a feeling she sent it more in an “I’ve got nothing left to lose” sort of sense, and I didn’t want to let her off the hook for that so easily.
I spotted the waitress making her approach, so I decided now would be a good time to broach the subject, as the waitress’s interruption would give Jade a minute to think of a response.
I could be merciful on occasions.
“So, hopelessly single, huh?”
Jade’s eyes grew wide. She must’ve thought we could both go on likethatnever happened.
I continued, “You know ‘one-night stand’ implies it only happens once, right? You really wouldn’t consider something more long-term, if you happen to enjoy yourself for the first time?”
