“Excuse me?” I rasped out.

Something moved in his face, something that I felt low in my stomach. Something that made me think he might’ve been thinking the exact same thing as me.

“With dinner, tell me what you want me to do to help.” His voice was flat, but there was an edge to it, like a serrated knife.

“Oh!” I said. “You really want to help with dinner?”

He nodded.

“Okay, how’s your knife work?” I asked, knowing my mistake the second I uttered the words.

The corner of Hades’s mouth twitched. “Fucking excellent.”

My stomach dipped. And just like that, Hades was helping me with dinner.

Halfway through cooking, Hades got a phone call, scowled at the caller ID, rubbed his hands on a kitchen towel then left the room. He didn’t come back until the food was finished. I’d set the table, put my speaker on low and brought him a fresh beer.

He’d walked back in just as I was carrying our plates.

“Club business.”

That was his explanation.

It intrigued me but it wasn’t my business, so I didn’t press the subject. We probably wouldn’t have been eating anything if he’d stayed in the kitchen for the duration of the cooking process.

Hades sat down at the table as I set his plate down. I’d given him a heaping serving, guessing that he needed it to fuel his muscles and deadly instinct.

“Enchiladas,” I stated the obvious. “Vegan enchiladas. Well, almost. There’s cheese.”

I pursed my lips, forcing myself not to continue babbling.

“You’re a vegan,” he didn’t phrase this as a question, his expression blank and his tone flat as he stared at me then down at the plate of food.

Now, Hades might’ve been a cold, dangerous man, but he was very expressive. Even when he wasn’t. Somehow, I knew that the careful flatness of his voice was not due to a lack of emotion.

“Yes, I’m a vegan,” I confirmed, handing him a fork and napkin.

He took both of them, looking at me the entire time. It was definitely unnerving, his eyes on me as I settled at the opposite side of the table. Hades frowned at me while I did this, as if he did not like my choice of seat. But I did not trust myself sitting right beside him. Our arms brushing as we ate, thighs pressed together. No, it would’ve been torture. And I likely would’ve dropped food all over my shirt and made a fool out of myself. Yes, across the table was much safer.

He also could’ve been looking at me in that way because he was a red-blooded, American, alpha male who existed on red meat, Jack Danielsm and the blood of his enemies, yet I was serving him a vegan meal. Granted, it was a kick-ass vegan meal consisting of spicy sweet potato, black bean enchiladas and rice. Complete with margaritas. Made from scratch. The secret was freshly squeezed limes, agave, Grand Marnier and a lot of tequila.

“I’m a vegan on weekdays,” I continued speaking because the way he was looking at me was making me all squirmy, and I couldn’t eat under his scrutiny, no matter how hungry I was or how good the enchiladas were. “On the weekends, I’m just vegetarian because I love cheeseboards. And French Toast. And full-fat lattes. Sometimes if I go out for brunch on a weekday, I cheat too. And then I have a cheeseburger once a month.”

Hades raised a brow ever so slightly. “You eat a cheeseburger once a month,” he repeated.

I nodded. “I know, it’s terrible. I’m not really a vegan, obviously. I definitely shouldn’t be calling myself one, but...” I shrugged. “Whatever. I definitely can’t call myself a vegetarian because of the cheeseburger thing. But have you had a cheeseburger before?”

The corner of his mouth turned up in something that could only be described as a smirk. My insides did a backflip, and desire flooded into my stomach—and my panties.

“Yeah, baby, I’ve had a cheeseburger before.” He scooped a bite of rice onto his fork and took a bite.

Baby. He’d just called me baby.

Endearments such as that were throwaway to bikers, I knew that. It didn’t mean anything. But I was sure that Hades had never called me baby before, I most certainly would’ve noticed. I hung on his every word like some kind of pathetic, lovestruck teenager.

I loved the way it sounded coming out of his mouth. Loved the possession in it.

Or maybe I was just imagining that.

My neck flamed with heat, and I struggled not to crawl across the table and kiss him.

“So you understand,” I forced myself to get back on track, my voice thick. “I just can’t deprive myself.”

Although he remained stone still, his eyes flickered; his expression turning into something else entirely. I didn’t have words to describe it, but I felt it in my entire body, shaking my bones and drenching my panties. “Yeah, I can’t either.”

Tags: Anne Malcom Sons of Templar MC Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net