The Trade(52)

I pull away and watch as her eyes fall quickly to my mouth.

Her lips part.

Her hand falls to her chest.

I bet if I glanced down, her nipples would be hard.

Fuck yes, this girl’s responsive.

“One key lime pie and one molten chocolate lava cake,” the waitress says as she sets the desserts in front of us. We lean back suddenly.

Natalie swallows hard and points at our desserts. “Uh, she gave you my pie.”

Keeping my eyes trained on her, I move the pie in front of her, accidentally knocking her board so the chips shift, and then take my cake.

She doesn’t look away, but instead holds my gaze while the music changes to “Rock the Boat.” How fucking fitting. She must hear the song the same time I do because her face reddens and she turns away, a smirk playing at her lips.

Picking up her fork, she takes a bite of her pie, and I watch as she closes her eyes and savors the flavors on her tongue. Her head tilts back slightly as she makes the softest moaning sound. It’s almost inaudible over the loud music, but I hear it from how close I’m sitting.

I watch closely as her lips move along the tines of the fork slowly, as she pulls it out of her mouth, as her mouth works back and forth, chewing, and then how her neck moves with her swallow. It’s erotic and sexy, and I want to lean over and lick the column of her neck to her jaw and then to her lips where I can taste the tart lime flavor on her lips.

“You should try this,” she says, pulling me out of my trance and catching me staring. Her cheeks blush. “Is there something on my face?”

I shake my head slowly, still staring at her. My eyes falling to her lips again.

“Do you want to try some?” she asks, her voice changing to something less nervous and more . . . seductive.

From the drop in her tone, the rest of the restaurant fades away, the music and bingo caller become muffled background noise while my heart thrums in my ears.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

It’s a steady staccato filling my brain with need, as if each beat is urging me to move closer and closer to her.

She leans in and her words fall past her lips like sweet molasses. “Do you?”

I lick my lips, feeling the heat build between us, heat that sparks and lights the air around us. There’s no doubt in my mind if someone from the outside was watching us right now, they’d see chemistry, they’d see the restraint to hold myself back from taking her in my arms.

Keeping my eyes on hers, I nod.

She scoops up some pie on her fork and brings it to my mouth. “Open,” she whispers and I oblige, this entire moment feeling so goddamn surreal that I need to remind myself our friends are only a few feet away.

She slides the fork into my mouth and I close my lips around it while she pulls out, leaving the tart pie on my tongue and fuck, it is good.

I chew and swallow before licking my lips for any remnants.

“Good, right?” she asks, our faces only a foot away from each other.

“Really fucking good.”

She looks down at my plate and then back at me. “Are you going to offer me some of yours? Or are you going to be rude?”

I smile as my heart hammers away, filling my body with excitement and nerves.

“If you wanted the chocolate,” I say slowly, “you should have asked for it.” And then I lean back, take my fork, and dig in, leaving her gobsmacked and humored at the same time.





“I can’t believe you didn’t share any of your dessert with me,” Natalie calls out from the bathroom, where she’s getting ready for the night.

LIVING THE BOBBIE LIFE - Potter spotted in St. Croix on a boat with Knox Gentry and Carson Stone. Clinking beers, laughing, and having the time of his life. Fans are wondering, why is he vacationing with the enemy when he could have been getting to know his teammates the other night at Maddox Paige’s charity event? Missed opportunity in our minds . . . or was it a deliberate act of disrespecting the Rebel’s brotherhood?

I set my phone on the table next to the bed and take a deep breath.

I can’t go to an event I don’t fucking know about.

And why the fuck is Jason not in any of these pictures? Not that I want him dragged under the bus, but the media is making it seem like I’m the only new Rebel hanging out with Knox and Carson.

Grateful I’ve already brushed my teeth, gone to the bathroom, and changed into a pair of shorts, I try to take calming breaths. I didn’t bother with a shirt tonight because frankly, it’s been annoying to sleep with.

After our brief, intimate exchange in the restaurant, Natalie and I have been pretty distant. Mildly joking and teasing each other, but we’ve kept our distance. I don’t even know what came over me. Maybe it was the size of the boat taunt, or the disco lights that made me feel like I was high, but either way, I got one look at Natalie eating pie and I was a fucking goner. I couldn’t control myself. I needed to be closer, I needed to prove to her that I wasn’t like Ansel, that I wasn’t vanilla, and if she ever did give me a chance, I would blow her goddamn mind.

But all that did was make me want her more. It’s why I went for another run when we got back. I blamed it on the calorie intake when Natalie looked at me weirdly, but I had to run off the pent-up energy within me. The gym was empty at nine o’clock at night—imagine that—so I made quick work of the treadmill and then came back to the room where I showered and got ready for bed, but not before Natalie pinned me with a stare and told me we were watching a few episodes of The Office tonight.