“I think she doesn’t want me to know you two are signing up for a dating service, but I’m sure it’s just research for an article, right?”
“No, we’re tired of being single,” Glory informs me.
“But you said—“ Willow starts to protest before Glory cuts her off with a glare.
“Glory’s not single,” I add.
Willow looks surprised. Glory’s expression is more confused. Had the kiss at my house not set out my intentions plainly enough?
“I thought you said—“
I stretch out an arm across the back of the booth and let my hand drop to the base of Glory’s neck. “She’s mine.”
Glory freezes. Willow’s eyes look like they may pop out of their sockets.
“Glory?” Willow wants an explanation.
“I...we...I’m...” Glory stammers.
She has a lovely neck. Long and delicate but strong like a winter flower. I can’t wait to taste it. I slowly stroke my thumb up the column of skin. The first time we kissed, I tasted her mouth. The next time I have my lips on her, I plan on exploring more territory. I want to know the flavor of every part of her. Does her neck taste sweet or salty? Is the valley between her tits honeyed or tart? When my mouth is between her legs, will her lower lips have the same pillowy softness as the set above?
“I think I hear my mom calling,” Willow says from across the table. She scoots toward the end of the bench.
“No. We haven’t finished the application yet,” Glory says, but even to me the protest sounds weak.
Willow shakes her head. “Call me if you need anything.” She stares at me for a second, wanting to say something else but opting not to.
When we’re alone, I give Glory’s neck a squeeze. “So your phone isn’t broken.”
“No. Why would you say that it was?” She picks up her fork and stabs at the pasta on her plate. Next she goes for a bite of cheesecake.
“Because you haven’t called.” I drag Willow’s abandoned food over to my side of the table and beckon the waitress over. “You got an extra fork?”
“Sure do,” the waitress says, giving me a broad smile and producing a napkin wrapped fork from the pocket of her apron. “And who might you be?”
“Corby O’Neal. I bought the place on Secret Lane Williams sold about six months ago.”
“Six months?” The waitress blows out a whistle as she sets down a new cup and pours me some coffee. “And this is the first time you’ve been into the Virgin?”
It’s a good thing I’m not drinking, or I would’ve spewed all over the table. “First time,” I manage to cough out.
The waitress’s eye twinkles. She knows exactly what she was saying. “You okay, Glory? You need anything?”
Somehow I feel the question is more about me than the food, but Glory just nods feebly. “I’m okay, Caroline. Thanks, though.”
When the waitress leaves, I pick up the coffee with my free hand. “After dinner, what are our plans?”
Glory scrapes her fork against her plate and then sets it down before turning to me. There’s a serious set to her beautiful mouth. “I’m like this cafe.”
At first I don’t understand. “Black and white tiles at home?” I joke, but when she doesn’t laugh, the meaning unfurls in my head. First time you’ve been into the virgin? My jeans tighten, and my tongue grows thick with lust. This gorgeous, precious beauty is untouched. It makes sense why she’s skittish and why she hasn’t sought me out. It could be that she’s not sure of her own feelings or she’s unsure of mine, or maybe it’s both. The thing for me to do is not scare her off. I loosen my grip around her neck and let my hand fall to the back of the bench seat.
“This dessert looks damned good. Let’s see how it tastes.” I pick up my fork and dig in. After a few bites, I notice Glory’s still looking at me as if she’s not sure I’m a snake about to bite or a big old dog trying to move into her territory. “Not hungry?”
“What’s your game?”
“Thought you were doing a story on me. I’m giving you an exclusive but not until after dessert.” I say, deciding to go the nonthreatening route for now. Once I have her in my house, though, this time I am not letting her go.
Chapter Twelve
Glory
Why am I back in his house? Furthermore, why do my eyes keep drifting over to the sofa where we made out, wanting a repeat show? It’s been a few days since he kissed me, and my body is buzzing for him. I think he ruined me. I tried to take the situation into my own hands and failed. My body seems to want his touch only.
“You okay with onions?” he asks me. He’s chopping vegetables as I sit at the counter watching him. I wouldn’t have believed you a few days ago if you would have told me I’d be sitting in Corby O’Neal’s kitchen waiting for him to cook for me. And that I’d be insanely attracted to him.