Page 40 of Desperate Needs

Clementine nodded, answering my question and biting her lower lip in that way she had that drove me wild. I hummed approvingly, adjusting my dick beneath the table unobtrusively as I continued to peruse the menu.

“Next, we’ll have the mushroom raviolo. The special fish, steak frites, and the crepes of the day. For dessert, chocolate souffle and the cranberry chevre tart.”

“Excellent, sir.”

“Is someone joining us? That’s enough food for five people,” Clementine said.

“I think you know I have a rather enormous appetite, Darlin’.”

I looked her over, undressing her with my eyes. She’d just come from work, and I had to say I didn’t hate the jade green blouse she wore over fitted gray slacks.

Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid, but some of those wild curls of hers escaped their confines, framing her face like a fiery halo. She wore light cosmetics, and nothing that hid her peaches and cream complexion or her unique copper eyelashes.

She had some kind of pink gloss on her lips when she’d arrived, but I’d kissed it all off. Somehow, that made her already plump lips look even more swollen and seductive.

Goddamn.

I felt like a teenager around this woman. Half out of control with lust. I already wanted to kiss her again.

But that wasn’t all.

I made small talk.

Chatted about her day.

Like I was actually pretending we were a real couple or something, and that was insane.

Stupid, boyo.

I clenched my old man’s voice and forced its way into my head.

You’re going to fuck this up. As you usually do.

I closed my eyes, forcing that bastard’s ghost away.

Tonight was not for him.

It was for me.

For us.

Chapter 17-Connor

I sat back as Clementine sipped her wine and chatted about her day. I’d only ever dined out from this place, waiting till I could be there with her to step foot inside, and I was glad for that now.

The restaurant had a homey feel to it, despite its Michelin star and waitlist. Not that Clementine would know, seeing how as an Aziz she was likely used to being afforded things like tables at fine restaurants.

But she wasn’t spoiled. She didn’t act like the other rich women I’d known.

I hummed in response to something she said, content to simply look at her. The lighting was just right. Not too harsh against her unique coloring. She was so damn pretty.

Bright and colorful. Full of warmth and fire. Like a sunset over the desert.

“Wait. He did what?”

“Pop hired an entire petting zoo to come to our house for Christmas Eve to reenact the nativity. Complete with a baby lamb dressed as Jesus. It was all fine and good until one of the three wise men, aka a gnarly old goat, started eating our actual presents,” she said and giggled.

“Are you serious?” I let out my own chuckle.

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