Chapter Two Hundred Ninety–Six
ANASTACIA
My clit is still pulsing and my knees are still weak by the time Paul returns from using the men’s room and paying the check. Eyeing him with greedy intent, I lick my lips when my sight falls on the bulge of his biceps that punch against the cotton of his short–sleeved shirt. He had removed his sweater and placed it over his hard on after making me come in a room full of diners. Shifters already run hot as it is, and after the scandalous PDA his skin was fairly burning at the touch. Now, with his vein that runs along his muscles escaping in a trail of hot–blooded bliss from his shoulders to his wrists, I’m almost tempted to forgo the candles in favor of heading back to his place and mapping the damn thing with the tip of my tongue, but I know better.
I need those damn candles.
…And whatever else I might find useful.
A sun crystal might be nice. Some sage…
But I know without asking, I won’t find any of that here. Pity. It would have been nice to find a kindred spirit amongst these folk.
Taking stock of all the eyes around us, I notice they are no longer staring at me the way they were only seconds ago. Paul’s return to my side seems to have reinstalled their table side manners. But moments ago, when Paul left me sitting here alone, the entire place turned toward me. Sizing me up to study me as if it were their job to weigh my worth. Making sure I was good enough for their Pretty Paul local shifter. It leaves me wondering how many of these humans know what he is.
Although the people have appeared to lose interest in me, I can almost feel their hesitance when they glance my way.
They want to know what makes me special.
The tables are full in this place and there are a number of families lined up outside. Not surprised though, the food was pretty damn good. It could have used a bit more heat to it, just a dash or two of cayenne pepper would have done the trick. But I’m no Gordon Ramsay, so
what do I know?
Paul slaps a hundred dollar bill down on the table and then reaches his hand out for me. I squint at the enormous amount, then lift my gaze to scan the floor for our waitress. The New Orleans inside of me saying, this kind of tip shouldn’t be left unattended.
To my relief, she makes an appearance by the time I stand up. “Oh!” she says, lifting the bill and throwing a wary look around the room. Her lovely hazel eyes go straight for me and she smiles, “This is too much, but thank you so much. I really need it right now.”
What?
She thinks I gave it to her!?
As I open my mouth to correct her mistake, Paul yanks me forward and says, “I told her she was crazy, but she insisted.”
Really? You sweet devil of a man.
knows she would hate it if it came from him, so he lied.
eyes flare with anger that she turns his way. “She’s too good for you, Paul, and if
with our plates, the heaviness
glowing with mischief and that’s the only warning I get before he tosses
outside.
1/4
Two Hundred
she hate you so much?”
not me she hates. At least
me in the jeep and buckles me in like a
he steps away, his
us
shrug, not willing to give up all my secrets so easily. “Where to
dark with heat as he appraises me “-that I need to see
KENDALL
to stay late. I want you for the evening shift,” Hugh says, eyeing me up as he walks in
they deserve. While I finish jotting down their order, I work to control the roiling in my gut that has nothing to do with this pitiful pit stop’s fish grease smell, and everything to do with the sloppy sometimes manager
still standing
Kendall,” Hugh spits (and I
I toss, shaking my pen in
is this place going to get with the times and invest in the twenty–first century? My flippin‘ hand is cramping up. We need tablets asshole! And another POS! Maybe a clover or two
it, Hugh”
“A full ten hour shift, Sugar Tits. Amber
Again!!! Fucking
alcove so that the customers can’t hear me. “Do not ever call me Sugar Tits. My name is Kendall.”
it sends spittle dribbling down his chin. “I like Sugar Tits
they don’t like you,
back into the wall, a hot pot of
you slimy
Soon his mama
the chance to get to know me,” Hugh says, backing away when Charlotte comes barreling
2/4
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WNK3r5yWUeT4nELEm6uUClHsYVjJPsy6u1HoCAe2tyvRXSj3cBY5VFduxJSM4M4HPHBT68lCn0M00qA7LL1iMpCbqa4hP8fF+TMl+kfuWZTzf0SFAO4krp4SO3LrU00oMo8et/nJF1f5BPMgvhXg0HSJ1N6VnfOfndodMHTKEQKWEf/b44GUjyFt6iU5TngXo2OqcdEZ/sRjDTY7xKVg671b60N+DZ2GEzgKOsvGp9TTJQnnidkJ2lfZaKn5OHXrGGeQq/iAFq2f3HnaOigc
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