Page 57 of Casita Casanova
They both cackle and I clench my jaw, biting back a retort. They’re rude, but not wrong. I have no business with a man as young as Cas. And, case in point,I’mnot the only one hung up on it. So there.
Chapter Nineteen
Ridge
I set the bags down on the hostess stand and turn on my heels, striding back toward the table of girls we just passed. I turn the panty dropper on full blast and blind them with my good looks. I don’t fucking care if this makes me an asshole. I know I look good and I know how to use that to my advantage.
And right now, I want to use it to render them speechless.
There’s a reason the tabloids call me a playboy.
“Ladies,” I say, leaning over their table with my hands on two of their chairs.
They giggle, looking at each other the way women do sometimes when they all share a brain.
I look over my shoulder at Maryn, who stands near the door, looking completely mortified. “You see that woman over there?”
“Yeah,” the one to my right says quickly. “She’s—”
I pin the talkative one with my stare. “Sexy as fucking sin?”
Her mouth drops open. I smirk, just about to leave it at that, but the one on my left snorts, and I think we’ve already established that I don’t back down from a challenge.
“Howoldis she?”
I swivel my head to her and lick my lips slowly. I want her to feel the heat of my eyes and the lick of my lips between her legs. “Think about her tonight.”
“What?” Her face twists up like she’s just sucked on a lemon. “Why?”
I twist a lock of her blonde hair to really send her spinning. “When your boyfriend is still struggling to find your clit tonight, I want you to think about that woman over there, with her toes curled and her head thrown back in ecstasy. I want you to imaginethisface betweenherthighs.” I grab one of their chips and shove it into my mouth, grinning as I stand and incline my head. “Enjoy your meal.”
I don’t wait long enough for a response. Don’t need to. The looks on their faces said enough.
The look on Maryn’s face, however, I can’t gauge.
I can usually tell when she’s displeased with me, but this is something different. I grab the bags and give her a wink. “Ready?”
She glances at me, then back at the girls, then strides through the main doors of the restaurant, stopping on the curb. “What did you say to them?”
“Nothing.”
“Cas.” She laughs, shaking her head. “You’re a terrible liar.”
I grin and transfer both bags to my left hand so I can slip my right hand up beneath her sweater and settle it against her lower back and maneuver her through the line of people waiting to get inside for Taco Tuesday.
As we pass the patio, I catch Maryn looking past me, but I keep my attention ahead. I don’t need to see their faces; I already did.
“They’re still catching flies.”
I snort. “Good. Serves them right.”
Maryn sighs. Ah, sheisdispleased with me. “They weren’t wrong.”
I side-eye her. “You think I have Mommy issues?”
“Oh my gosh, no, Cas. That’s not what I meant.”
“Good. Because that’s a bit offensive.”
