My cheeks have to be bright red. “Rob…”
“I love it when you act all innocent and embarrassed,” he says.
“Act? Who says it’s an act?”
"Tell me you aren't thinking about that dark movie theater and how we're most likely going to be the only ones in it. Tell me you aren't thinking about me having my hand on your knee going up your thigh, under your skirt…"
He demonstrates, his hand on his knee, moving upward, under my skirt, but before he reaches my thong, he pulls his hand out.
“Who’s the damn tease?” I mutter.
Rob laughs. “At least I’m not making eyes at the waitress.”
“Excuse me?”
“Bringing up Ace like that.”
“I was just teasing you,” I protest.
“I know, but I prefer when you tease with kisses and your fingers, and that… Fuck, Katie, I’m going to rip off your clothes if you keep licking your lips.”
“You like my tongue, don’t you?”
He growls, grabs the back of my head, and forces his tongue into my mouth. I melt against him, my hands on his chest as he hugs me tight to his body. If it weren’t for the table, I would be straddling him right now, and we—
“How are your salads?”
The waitress is back. Can’t she see that we’re busy?
Rob ignores her and kisses me once more and another quick peck, and I sigh as I straighten, sitting next to him.
“Are they not to your satisfaction?” the waitress asks.
“We need more time to enjoy them,” I mumble.
“Of course. If you need anything—”
“We’ll flag you down,” Rob says.
She nods and walks away.
“Close the curtain,” Rob says.
“If we do that, we won’t ever make it to the theater,” I protest.
Rob dramatically sighs, picks up his fork, and shoves a huge wad of his salad into his mouth.
I slap my palm against my forehead. “Seriously?”
He winks at me and continues to eat.
If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. We both enjoy the rest of our meal before heading to the car. There’s just enough time for us to enjoy some wine coolers before Rob drives us over to the theater.
It's only as I shut the car door that I realize we aren't on his bike. A little silly, maybe, but Rob has a way of distracting me. "I didn't know you had a car."
“It’s not mine,” he says. “I’m borrowing it.”
“Why?”