Page 52 of The Wrong Promise

Fuck. Is he leaning over me?I lay my hands in my lap and splay my fingers to sense if he is near. He presses on my hands, pushing my fingers flat to my thighs.

“No touching,” he says close to my ear, sending shivers up my spine. He is turning me on, and he knows it.

Breathe.

Not too deep because it will sound desperate. “Have you ever been in a relationship?” I say in a breathy whisper. How can a man be so attentive and distance himself from love?

“One in high school.”

“Did it end badly?”

“No. I ended it. I felt constrained. Too many rules. She had expectations. No point in making promises you can’t keep. Open,” he says as the food touches my lips, and I quickly obey. Opening my mouth, it’s meat, soft and tender. More herbs. A hint of citrus. Some sweet potato.

I chew carefully, considering his words.Too many rules.

“Persian style lamb. Now, do we get to eat because I’m hungry for more?” I’m so hungry for him that I need the food to distract me from the equally delicious Jobe Hendricks.

A gentle hand lands on my shoulder. “Patience, Zara. What dish did you enjoy the best?”

“I can’t choose because I loved all of them.”And how it was served.

He is leaning close. His arms brush past my shoulders, and then I sense him between my thighs.

Good God.

Will he kiss me?

His hands are at the back of my head, and he’s standing between my thighs instead of standing behind me. I swear it’s a ploy to rattle me. The tie slips off, and I’m left ogling his bare chest. Rounded pecs that I could easily lick if I leaned slightly closer.

Slowly, I allow my gaze to slide up to his beautiful face and meet those dark brown eyes. He’s watching me intently, and I’m unable to look away. My heart flips with a longing I know I shouldn’t be feeling.

There is a sexual magnetism to Jobe, a self-confidence that he knows what he does to me.

I swallow hard. “That was only three dishes.”

A slow grin parts his lips. “Right. We’ll eat, and then I’m saving the best for last.”

What could be better than what I just experienced? I feel fucked by food, and I’m tingling all over. “I’m already sated,” I murmur.

His sexy eyes dance at my response. “Don’t be so easily satisfied, Zara.”

I huff. “I am, so the bar is low.”

His brow furrows. “Raise the bar.”

I flinch. “Are we talking about sex?”

“We’re talking about life,” he says in a low voice. “And sex.”

Oh boy. “So I lied. I’m starving. And you can take that any way you want.”

His hand cups my cheek, and his eyes linger on my lips. “A problem I need to rectify.”

“Rectify away,” I whisper.

Jobe steps back, and the air separates us, leaving a chillin his absence. My stomach falls in disappointment when he walks around the counter and stands by the stove to prepare our dishes.

Visually, the food is not as appealing as Jobe’s naked torso, and suddenly, my appetite has nothing to do with the meal he’s serving.

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