Oh, let’s be real, shall we. You’ve been hot for Caleb since that first time you met him at Strummers and thought he was a complete dickwad.
I shove that know-it-all little voice inside my head to the far corner of my brain and tell it to shut up.
I slide out of the booth, wobbly on my feet, and Caleb is right behind me, grabbing hold of my arm and keeping me steady. I send him a grateful smile and he basically leads me out of the restaurant, his hold tight the entire time. I notice all the women who swivel their heads with their admiring gazes as he walks by, and I feel stupidly proud to be seen with him.
See? I can snag this pretty boy and you can’t, is what I want to tell them. Which is rude, I know this, but I can’t help it.
And I really didn’t snag him. He’s not mine to snag. I need to calm down.
We approach his car and he holds the door open for me, making sure I get inside in one piece. “I told you, you shouldn’t have had that second margarita,” he says, sounding like a scolding parent.
“Sorry, dad,” I say, my head lolling against the seat.
His lips form a thin line and he slams the passenger door shut before he rounds the car and gets into the driver’s seat. I quietly watch him as he starts the engine and backs the car out of the space. I continue watching as he guns it through the parking lot, driving like a madman, his focus one hundred percent on the road, never straying toward me.
I can’t stop watching, my mouth going dry, my imagination going haywire. There are so many things I would do to this man if given the chance.
“You’re pretty,” I blurt.
He glances over at me, frowning. “What did you just say?”
“I think you’re pretty.” I pronounce each word slowly, making sure he heard me. “Your face.”
He actually grins. “My face?”
I nod enthusiastically. “Everything about you, really.”
“Are you complimenting me, Gracie?”
“I am. You’re pretty and you know it.” A sigh leaves me and I turn to stare out the window as the buildings pass by. “Too bad you ruin it all by opening your mouth.”
“How do I ruin it when I open my mouth? Most girls like it when I do that,” he says with a naughty smile.
I angle my whole body in his direction, pointing at him. “That right there is how you ruin it. By saying rude, vulgar things.”
“It’s called innuendo.”
“It’s called turning everything dirty, even when it’s unnecessary.”
We come to a stop at a light and he turns to look at me, his gaze narrowed. “What’s wrong with turning things dirty? I thought you liked it dirty.”
My brows shoot up. “How do you know I like anything dirty?”
He studies me, his gaze so intense, I almost start to squirm in my seat. “I get the feeling you like a lot of dirty things, G. It just makes you uncomfortable to talk about them because you want to do those dirty things. With me.”
I’m about to deny what he just said but the light turns green and he presses hard on the gas. So hard, my chest jerks against the seatbelt. My curiosity piqued, I ask, “What sort of dirty things do you like?”
“I asked you first,” he says.
“Nope. You definitely did not,” I say firmly. “Tell me, Caleb. I want to know.”
“Okay. I love it when a girl gives me a blow job on her knees and makes eye contact when my dick is in her mouth,” he says, so casually while I’m over here sputtering.
Envisioning some other bimbo on her knees in front of Caleb with her mouth full of his cock. Yeah, no.
“I love it when a guy goes down on me,” I throw back at him, trying to scrub the image of Caleb with another girl from my brain. “I like it when he sucks my clit and finger fucks me at the same time.”
“Whoa, G!” He actually sounds shocked.