Chapter Five
Laken pushed her plate of food away with a sigh. Duncan glanced down at the barely-touched pasta and frowned slightly. Laken held her breath, waiting for the comment she knew was on the tip of his tongue.
This was their fourth date and so far he had been the perfect gentleman. He hadn’t once tried to push her or take control. Laken had deliberately pushed him a few times, to gauge his reaction.
But Duncan held his tongue; he had kept to his word… and it was killing her. The chaste kisses, the way he always let her take the lead—it was frustrating as hell. They hadn’t gotten beyond some kissing and heavy petting and she was dying for something more.
Yet, this was what she had asked for, wasn’t it? Lord, she was so confused.
“Laken, is everything okay?” he asked. “Is the pasta no good? Do you want something else?”
“What? Oh no, it’s fine. I guess I’m just not very hungry.”
“Would you like to try some of my steak?”
She glanced down at his plate. It did look good. She nodded. He cut her off a piece then held it up to her lips. Laken opened her mouth and took the piece off his fork, tingles of heat racing through her.
How many times had he fed her in the past? Duncan loved to cook; he would whip them up something with the meager ingredients in her cupboard, then with her sitting on his knee, he would feed them both from the same plate.
“I used to love it when you cooked for me,” she told him.
“Then I will have to do it more often. I’m finished as well. How about we head back to your place?”
Laken nodded breathlessly. Maybe tonight she could
get him to really touch her.
Duncan paid for their meal. He’d put a stop to her trying to pay her way on their first date. It was one thing he would not budge on. Standing, he helped her into her light jacket. The days were getting warmer, but it was still a bit chilly at night. Placing a hand on the small of her back, he guided her out to his truck. After lifting her up into the cab, he moved around to the driver’s side and drove them back toward her place.
“Duncan,” she said as they stepped inside.
“Yes, baby?” he replied.
“Can we talk for a moment?”
“Of course.” Taking her hand, he led her to her worn couch. She winced as he sat; one day she was certain the old couch was going to fall apart under his larger frame.
Laken went to sit beside him, but at the last moment she decided to sit astride him.
His gaze lit up. “Hmm, what sort of talking did you have in mind?”
She ran her hands over his chest before tackling the buttons on his shirt. Pulling it apart, she ran her hands over his silken skin, brushing her thumbs over his nipples.
“Laken, honey, don’t start something you can’t finish,” he groaned. She leaned down to bite the skin where his neck met his shoulder, delighting in his scent, the way his breathing quickened.
“Who says I can’t finish it?”
“I thought we were taking things slow?” he whispered. He placed his arms on the back of the sofa, gripping it, his jaw clenching.
“I don’t want to take things slow anymore.” She kissed her way over his jaw, down his neck to swirl her tongue around his nipple.
“Take this off,” she ordered him, tugging at his shirt.
Leaning forward, he managed to get his shirt off without unseating her. Laken adored his chest, his thick arms and muscled stomach. She kissed him hungrily as he rested his arms over the back of the sofa once again. She sat back, staring at him solemnly.
“Don’t you want to touch me?” she asked, feeling vulnerable. She knew she didn’t look as she had before. She was thinner; her breasts smaller and there were a few more lines on her face.
“Oh baby, of course I do.”