Page 24 of Hunted for Halloween

Christian pulls out the chair, and tucks me in gently when I take my seat. He slips into the seat opposite me, my eyesfollowing the ripping movement of his muscles in his crisp white shirt that's tucked in black tailored slacks. Heat unfurls in my abdomen, pooling between my legs and causing me to rub my thighs together.

“Cat got your tongue, Pumpkin?” he smirks.

“I wasn't staring.” I deny, fighting back the scorching sensation searing my cheeks. I pick up the menu lying on the table to distract myself.

“See anything you like on the menu aside from having my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours?” he casually asks and I'd have choked if I had something in my mouth.

My eyes go wide. “Christian!”

“I was just asking you a question, Pumpkin. There's no need to get all flustered.” He grins, raising his hand to beckon who I presume to be the waiter. He leans back into his seat casually, like he didn't just say that with a straight face.

I slam the menu shut, my cheeks burning hot, my arousal smearing my thighs. Now I'm really regretting not wearing any underwear.

“Good evening, sir and ma’am.” The waiter beat me to it before I could say something. I fake glare at Christian, huff and look over my shoulder, smiling sweetly at the lean masculine figure draped in black slacks and a button up shirt.

“Good evening,” I say to the male sporting a welcoming smile on his face.

His smile deepens. “Welcome to The Gourmet. I'm Kyle, your waiter for tonight. What would you like to have?”

“Um…” I pick up the menu again, my eyes fleetingly catching Christian's burning gaze. “I’ll have the grilled lamb chops drizzled with some sauce, paired with herb mash and roasted vegetables.” I flash him a polite smile, watching him jot my order onto his jotting pad.

“What about you sir?” Our gazes are both directed towards Christian, the rage flickering his now-darkened amber eyes making my breath catch.

“I'll have the same my girl is having and a bottle of your most expensive champagne.” He practically grits out his words, laying a possessive emphasis on those two words—my girl.

As much as it makes my cheeks burn, my tummy twists with an unfamiliar emotion. It keeps me on edge because it dawns on me that I don't know what Christian and I are.

We have both been going with the flow. But deep down, I know the problem lies more with me than it does with him. Left to him, he’d tattoo his name on my skin to show off to the world that I belong to him, and I, on the other hand, am content with living in the moment.

“Leave.” Christian seethes, his dark voice bringing me back to reality.

The waiter scrambles off to get our meal. I look over my shoulder sharply and turn back to him with a glowering look.

“Can you dial down the caveman behavior?” I say through my teeth.

“He was eye-fucking you, Aurora. I don't take kindly to other men looking at what's mine. I already told you that reasoning is off the cards when it comes to you.” His hands ball into fists on the table, his muscular body tense and unmoving.

“You can't control other people's thoughts.” I return sharply, frustrated.

“But I can gouge their eyes out for staring at what's mine.” He casually responds, leveling me a heated stare that makes me want to hide inside my skin.

“Christian!”

“Are you ashamed of me?” whiskey eyes narrow on me in slits, tingling with hurt that he tries to keep buried.

“What? How can you even say that?” I ask, exasperated, also hating that the question strikes me like a whiplash. I have been clinging to the safe zone, and this question seems like a way to yank me out of it. “I-I am not ashamed of you. I don't even know what we are or what this thing between us is…” I swallow thickly.

“Get up,” he ordered me, his voice rough. I blink, my lips parting slightly in shock. “Get your ass off that chair, Aurora. Now.”

I suck in a deep breath, rising to my feet with a thudding heart.

“Christian, we are in a restaurant.” I try to reason with him.

“I don't care,” he deadpans. “I rented out the entire space with my money just for my woman and me, so I can damn well do whatever I please. On my lap. Now. I don't want to say it again, Aurora.”

My pussy throbs greedily, my stiff buds straining against my dress, my skin tingling with need as I approach him. He pulls me down on his lap without warning and I gasp.

I grab onto his shoulders for support, looking down at him as he buries his face into my breasts, releasing a cuss word that reeks of satisfaction. His large, rough palm cups the side of my thigh possessively, bunching my dress up until a generous amount of my thighs and my strappy gold fuck-me heels are on display.

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