Page 63 of Craving Cooper

“I guess.”

“So you’re assuming dinner will lead to something… more?” she says, with emphasis on that last word, and a sexy tease in her voice that makes my cock ache in a way it’s never done before. That’s mostly because I can’t help remembering the way she screamed for ‘more’ the other night, but I have to shake my head, smiling as she tilts hers, confused by my reaction, I think.

“I’m not assuming anything.”

“You’re not?”

“No. I’m hoping.”

She lets out a gentle sigh. “In that case, I’m sorry to disappoint.”

I’m not sure how to interpret that, and I need clarification. “About what? Not being a virgin? Or dinner not turning into something more?”

“The former,” she whispers, my cock practically exploding at the thought of ‘something more’ with her.

“Don’t apologize. I just wish I’d met you first.”

She licks her lips in one of the sexiest moves I’ve ever seen. “So do I.”

“Because your ex cheated?”

“No. Because I wish you’d met me first.”

That lightness in my chest is back, and for a second or two, I wonder about suggesting I get the check and we take this back to my place. I don’t think Mallory would object and I know my cock wouldn’t… but just as I open my mouth, the waitress appears beside us again.

“Is everything okay, sir?” she says, and I realize neither of us has touched our food. I also notice that slight stress she’s placed on the word ‘sir’. I hadn’t been aware of it before, but Mallory’s right. It’s definitely there.

I don’t look up at her. I don’t take my eyes from Mallory’s for a second. Instead, I smile and say, “It is now,” and grin when Mallory smiles.

“We should probably eat, or she’ll only come back again,” Mallory says as the waitress drifts away, and although I’d rather abandon the meal altogether, I nod my head and release her hand, so she can cut up her salmon. I’ve ordered the rack of lamb for myself and as I slice into it, I think about my aching cock, and something more… and jealousy.

That’s not an emotion I’m used to, and although I would have loved to be Mallory’s first, I know it doesn’t matter.

At least, it doesn’t matter anywhere near as much as being her last.

That’s what she’ll be to me. I’m absolutely certain of that.

“What are you thinking?” Mallory asks, breaking into my thoughts, and sipping at her wine, her meal half eaten already.

“I’m thinking about you.”

She smiles. “Anything you wanna share?”

“Just how different everything feels when I’m with you.”

“Good different?” she asks.

“Amazing different.”

I’ve never experienced anything like this in my life. It’s as though nothing exists other than the perfect woman sitting opposite me… her and my love for her. I’m not aware of anything else. Not the passing of time, not the people around us. Nothing at all… except her.

That in itself is strange by my standards, but what’s even more strange is that I like it.

We continue eating, sipping at our wine. She offers me a taste of her salmon, and I struggle to breathe when I reciprocate, and watch her lips close around my fork as she takes a bite of my lamb. The conversation flows between us, our eyes never leaving each other the entire time. It’s like we’re in a trance… and perfectly happy to stay there.

Of course, it can’t last, and when we’re finished, the waitress comes over again, asking if we want to order dessert. I look at Mallory, raising my eyebrows.

“No, thanks. I couldn’t eat anything else,” she says.

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