“That’s not at all what I’m worried about,” she told him. And she was sure she didn’t have to say more, because her body was trembling and she’d swear all it would take for her to come was for him to press a finger to her clit and whisper something dirty in her ear.
“You make me hot, Liza.”
She pulled in a shallow breath. “That’s not helping matters.”
“Mm,” he muttered in her ear, just as his hand moved higher and his fingertips grazed her sensitive pussy lips through her panties, inciting all kinds of riotous sensations in her body. Making her cunt crave more of what he’d given her this morning.
“Jack,” she gasped as the excitement his touch evoked rippled through her.
He gave her that half-assed, cocky grin of his. “Just want to know if I make you wet, darlin’.”
She couldn’t believe his audacity. But it made her smile. “Got your answer?”
“Oh yeah.” He groaned.
She brushed his hand away, though with some reluctance. “Behave. I don’t want to be tarred, feathered and run out of town my first weekend here because we’re causing such a stir.”
Jack kept his hand on her bare leg, though in a somewhat more respectable location. His heat and the strength that emitted from him warmed her insides and made her snuggle a little closer to him.
“This town could use a little shaking up,” he said in a contemplative tone.
Liza wanted to ask what he meant by that, but Ruby closed in on them. She delivered two white plates piled high with spaghetti and one ginormous meatball on the side of each.
Enticing though the food was, Liza felt momentarily disappointed at the sight of today’s “special”, given the sinfully delicious aroma that wafted from the kitchen, telling her more complex and artery-hardening creations were being whipped up behind the magic curtain.
Ruby set the plates in front of them and said to Liza, “You’re not one of those girls who eats like a bird, are you?”
“Oh hell, no,” she said as she unraveled her flatware from the napkin. She dropped the white paper square in her lap and reached for the parmesan cheese in the large glass container. Shaking a little on top of the pasta, she added, “This looks great. Smells good too.”
“Taste it,” Ruby challenged her.
Liza cut a respectable hunk off the side of the mammoth meatball and popped the piece in her mouth. “Oh God!” she exclaimed in the most impolite way, nearly losing the meat from her mouth. So much for her well-cultivated manners.
One of Ruby’s thin eyebrows lifted. Jack grinned at Liza.
As she chewed the most flavorful meatball she’d ever tasted, she resisted the urge to close her eyes and sigh as she savored the moment. After she swallowed, she said, “That is one fierce meatball! And I’m from New York!”
Ruby beamed. “I’ll be sure to tell Mike you approve.”
“Mike?” Her brows knitted together. “What about ‘Pietro’?”
Ruby grinned. “Aw shoot, honey. There ain’t no Pietro in Wilder. I just thought it had a nicer ring to it than ‘Mike’s Joint’, which is what the old man wanted to call the place. Thank God he can cook, because sometimes I think all the roosters aren’t crowin’.”
Jack dug into his lunch as Liza said, “I’m going to need another one of these meatballs.” The spicy Italian sausage, garlic and herbs mixed with the ground beef created the perfect combination of flavors. She couldn’t wait to dive into the tomato sauce, wondering how Mike had spiced it up.
Ruby said of her double order, “Where you planning on puttin’ it, sister?”
“I worked up an appetite this morning,” she said. A hot flash of excitement touched her cheeks as she recalled exactly what had made her this ravenous. Jack Wade and his wicked ways. “Besides, I’m sure I won’t have any trouble working off the calories later.”
Jack nearly choked on his spaghetti, obviously getting Liza’s intent and surprised she made the innuendo in front of Ruby. Admittedly, Liza’s pussy thrummed with anticipation of what other tricks the Devil might have up his sleeve. She suspected he had an extremely creative sexual repertoire—and she was looking forward to experiencing the full extent of it.
“All right, then,” Ruby said, obviously pleased. “One more meatball coming up.” She left them alone again and Liza twirled several long strands of pasta around her fork and bit into the best spaghetti she’d ever tasted.
“Damn,” she moaned. “Did Mike go to culinary school in Italy or something?”
Jack shook his head. “Born and raised in Wilder. I went to school with his daughters.”
“Interesting.” She took another bite, then asked, “Where are they now?”