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Whatever is going on here, I want more, and I find myself saying, “Yes.”

And that is how my obsession with Caleb Carter began.

We flirted over dessert…

“Mmm,” I moan as I put a spoonful of the dessert I ordered in my mouth. Crème Brûlée has always been a favourite of mine.

I close my eyes briefly, and when I open them, I see that Caleb looks a little… uncomfortable? He’s shifting in his chair slightly and picking up his beer and taking a long glug.

“You okay over there?” I ask, putting my spoon down and feeling awkward. We’ve been having such a great time until this point, and I can’t understand what changed in the last few seconds.

He grunts before answering and putting his beer back on the table. “I’m… uh… good.”

“Doesn’t sound very convincing,” I tell him, as I put another spoonful in my mouth and moan quietly again.

“You need to stop doing that,” he says, his eyes blazing with… something that I dare not think about, because if he’s feeling the way I am then there is a very real possibility that I’m going to jump over this table, straddle him on that chair and fuck his brains out. And then I realise that my moaning is making him hot. The realisation has me doing it again, and this time, as I eat, I keep my eyes trained on his.

“Fuck,” he says on a breath, and I feel butterflies erupt in my stomach.

“If you’ll excuse me,” I say as I pat my mouth with a napkin and stand. “I’m just going to the bathroom.” I don’t wait for a response as I turn and walk away, needing a moment to compose myself and calm my overactive pussy down as it tingles with every step. I can feel his eyes on me until I disappear, and when I get into the ladies’, I take a look at myself in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed and my green eyes sparkle.

I’ve never reacted this way before.

Is this what lust feels like? Because if it is, I want more.

I take a moment to breathe in and out slowly. I take another moment to give myself a pep talk about getting myself together. And I take a final moment to check over my appearance. Cheeks still flushed, eyes still sparkling, and my black dress is hugging my curves in all the right places, falling to mid-thigh and making my breasts look stupendous. I don’t have much cleavage on show, because my legs are my best feature, but the tiny teasing glance from the neckline of the dress doesn’t hurt in the slightest. And the fact that he was getting out of sorts over me eating dessert makes me think that I made the right choice of attire for the evening.

“You’ve got this,” I tell myself in the mirror, and then I move to the door, ready to go back into the restaurant and enjoy the remainder of the evening. I have no idea if tonight will lead to anything more, but I don’t want to think about that for the time being. Live in the moment, Cam, don’t overthink it.

But as I open the door, Caleb’s eyes lock with mine, and then before I can process anything, he’s grabbing me and pushing me against the wall, his face inches from mine as he asks, “How old are you, Cam?”

“Nineteen,” I whisper, giving up the answer that he’s been asking me all night long as his stare penetrates mine. Fuck. My pussy is going crazy, my mind a fog as I get lost in his gaze, and my heart is trying to flee my chest from how hard it’s pounding.

“Do you believe in fate, Cameron?”

“No.”

“Good. Neither do I.” And I have no idea what that has to do with anything, and I don’t even care either, as his lips brush over mine, sending shivers down my spine.

“Is age just a number?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He freezes for a moment, with his lips hovering in front of me. Fucking hell, I need to kiss him, touch him before I spontaneously combust.

“You wanna get out of here?” he asks, and it’s like music to my ears. Best question ever.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” I tell him, taking the lead and pushing my lips to his ever so gently. I hear the low growl as he grabs my hand and leads me from the restaurant.

We fucked like our lives depended on it…

“Oh my God,” I scream, when his thumb finds my clit and sends explosions through my body as I jump up and down on his dick.

We didn’t make it to the bedroom, and instead, we stripped each other’s clothes off in his hallway, he spread me wide on his dining table and ate my pussy like he was a starved man, and now I’m riding him hard on a dining table chair.

And this is only round one.

I’m hoping for a round two, possibly a round three and four, because this man knows just what to do. There has been no fumbling, no pretending, no fake-arse moaning. Each and every moan has been real and unforced, and I’m hoping that by the time I leave here that I can barely walk.


Tags: Lindsey Powell Romance