Page 32 of Back in the Country
She frowns and then glares.
“What’s the look for?” I ask as I try to suppress my chuckle.
“Just thinking about all those college girls fawning all over you. I don’t like it.” She tries to pull her hand back, but I grip it harder in mine. This is the perfect opening for the next thing on my list.
“Baby Girl, there are no fawning college girls. I promise. I’m too old for that.”
She raises a challenging eyebrow, and I rub my thumb over the pulse in her wrist as it beats with fury. I love when she’s all spun up like this.
“Are you saying you’retoo oldfor me, Waylon Thayer?”
“No, baby. You’re perfect for me.” Leaning in, I watch as her eyes dilate then turn hungry. “I want you to be mine.”
“Like your girlfriend?”
“Nolikeabout it.”
Her smile is everything as she nods her head and bites her lower lip. The probability of me lasting through the remainder of this dinner without pulling her into my lap is extraordinarily low.
“Stop that,” I hiss, and her gaze is full of mischief.
Ignoring me, she licks across her lower lip as if to soothe the spot where her teeth had been. I growl.
“Just to be clear…” She mimics my position and leans forward. Her breasts are now pushed up and practically in my face. This feels indecent. My cock certainly is.
“Yes?” I manage in a strained voice.
“I get to call you my boyfriend, right?” The comment is so juvenile that I bark out a laugh.
“Yeah, baby, that’s the idea. I’m yours and you’re mine. Always.”
She shrugs. “I’m just making sure. I’ve waited a long time to hear those words.”
I can’t tell how much is her just teasing me and how much is truth.
“Well, you better get used to them.”
“Say it again.”
“You’re mine, Marlee.”
“Swoon.” She places a hand over her heart and sways in her chair.
“Brat.”
Her eyes heat and it’s time to go.
“Are you ready to leave?”
“Are you not having a nice time?” She blinks innocently at me, and I growl in response.
“I need to get my hands on you before I lose my mind.”
“You say the sweetest things.” She flutters her eyelashes, and now I know she’s fucking with me. The problem is that her bravado has been replaced with a breathy voice that tells me she’s just as worked up as I am.
We need the check.
Like yesterday.
