Page 51 of Killer Kiss

The couple at the table next to us glanced over at us, but Ophelia and I both gave them a dirty look, and they quickly went back to staring at their menus.

Her gaze was full of fire when she turned it back in my direction. “Your girlfriend sounds like a D-rated porn star.” She didn’t even lower her voice when she started imitating Bec. “Oh, Daddy. Fuck me harder. You’re so big.” She stuck her tongue out and made gagging noises. “Did you pay her to say that just because you knew I was listening?”

I chuckled wryly. “I don’t have to pay anyone to say good things about my dick, sweetheart. They always do though.”

She narrowed her eyes at me again. “I told you. Don’t call me sweetheart.”

“Nah, I like that it pisses you off.” I really did. She was hot when she was mad. Her eyes came alive, and her voice went deeper and kind of growly.

It made me want to put her on her knees, feed her my cock, and pull her hair until she used that growly hum to make me come.

My dick went instantly hard under the table, and I fought back the urge to groan. Not again. I’d only just dealt with this problem last night. I needed to get it under control. I couldn’t walk around getting stiff as a board every time I saw her.

Which reminded me of the fact she was here in Saint View in the first place. “What are you doing here?”

“Free country, Augie. I go where I please.”

I cocked my head at her. “So you came here in the hopes of seeing me then?”

She scowled at me. “What? No.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Well, that’s what I’m going to believe if you don’t give me a reason. You don’t seem like the type to eat at places like this.”

“And why is that? I like…” She looked down at the menu, her eyes flickering side to side as she read the menu full of fried foods and plain flavors.

“You don’t like a single thing on that menu, do you?” I let out a laugh of amusement.

She huffed out a sigh. “Would it hurt them to have something with a lettuce leaf?”

I sniggered, but it wasn’t entirely at the fact I knew she was one of those fine-dining lovers.

I liked arguing with her.

Arguing with her was the only thing that made me feel alive lately, after weeks and weeks of feeling like some huge part of me was dead and rotting, the disease slowly spreading through my body until I couldn’t come back from it.

That’s what losing Fawn and not knowing where or how she was felt like. A slow, painful death I couldn’t escape from.

Except when I was with Ophelia.

Fuck, she would be easy to get addicted to, with those pink lips and those dark eyes. Her skin was a warm brown that made me think of her lying out on a beach somewhere in a tiny bikini that would show every curve of her body.

That fucking hard-on wasn’t getting any better. I shifted uncomfortably at the tiny smile Ophelia tried to hide.

She was so damn pretty.

A woman stopped at our table, focusing on me. “Uh, hello. I’m Robyn Crestwood from The City Times. Are you Augie Mitchell?”

“So I’m told.”

The woman’s face flooded with relief. “Oh good. We’re just waiting on one more interviewee to come.”

I frowned. She hadn’t said anything about this being a group date.

Ophelia pasted on a smile that was so fake I practically snorted with laugher.

“Ophelia Hanover. Fawn’s sister. Thanks for doing your research and getting in contact with her actual family.”

The woman did a double take. “Oh! I’m so sorry. I saw the way the two of you were looking at each other and just assumed you were Augie’s girlfriend.”

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