She snorted. Right. A guy like Ink wouldn’t make love to you. He’d fuck you. Dirty. Hard. Hot.
Yeah, she could go for that too.
A text rattled her phone and she looked at it. Kit’s name popped up. Shit.
Answer him.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
She texted Ink back that she’d meet him.
It really wasn’t fair that she had to say goodbye twice.
12
His gaze was intent as he watched her cross the room. A different restaurant this time. More upscale. She didn’t really like it. Rather generic. Nothing like the place he’d taken her to last time.
He stood and walked over to her chair before the maître d’ could pull it out. She could tell the maître d’ didn’t like that. He gave Ink a snooty look, glancing up and down at him.
Once she was seated, Ink moved away. But instead of sitting across from her, he slid his chair around the table so he was beside her. His thigh brushed against hers and she stiffened in surprise.
He leaned in and kissed her ear. “I thought we’d gotten you past tensing up when I touched you.”
“Sorry, I’m just a bit on edge.”
“Because of last night?”
She stiffened even further. Had he found the note?
“You left pretty quickly,” he added. “I tried to find you. I was worried about you. You’re sure you’re feeling better? You look pale.”
“I’m fine.” So he hadn’t found the note. “I think just bringing everything up about my dad got to me, you know?”
There. That sounded reasonable.
“He sounds like a piece of work.” Ink wrapped his hand around the back of her neck. It was a move that smacked of possession. She felt a shiver work its way through her. “I’d never leave my family. When I make a commitment, it’s for life. I take care of those that belong to me.”
God, how she wished she could be his. She’d gotten a taste and greedily, she wanted more. She wanted it all.
He can never be yours.
“What about your mother? She died?”
“Breast cancer. When I was twenty.”
“I’m sorry, babe.”
She turned to face him; aware his lips were mere inches from hers.
“It was a long time ago,” she whispered.
“I want to kiss you,” he told her a low voice. “But not here. I want to go somewhere more private.”
“I…I…more private?” What was happening? This was only their second date. Well, technically. It wasn’t like she hadn’t known him for weeks.
His mouth brushed hers. “Trust me. Say yes.”
Trust him? She couldn’t trust him. Could she?