Page 224 of The Baby Twist
She leaned closer to the table and whispered, “Because we had sex last night.”
“And? I can’t take a woman I had a one-night stand with to dinner?”
“No. It’s called a one-night stand for a reason. We had sex, and now any interaction between us is over.”
“If you really believed that, you wouldn’t have agreed to come.”
“You forced me.” Her eyes narrowed.
I chuckled. “I didn’t force you.”
“Yes. Yes, you did.” She chewed her bread. “You wouldn’t take no for an answer and scurried away without letting me say no.”
Salvatore walked over and set the calamari in the center of the table.
“Enjoy, you two.” He smiled.
“Thank you, Salvatore. “Well, since you think I forced you to have dinner with me, tell me about Marley—” I narrowed my right eye.
“Monroe.” She picked up some calamari and put them on her plate.
“Tell me about Marley Monroe, the event planner.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?” My brow arched. “Listen, Marley. I explored every inch of your body last night, buried my cock deep inside you three times, and gave you countless orgasms. I think you owe me some information about yourself.”
“I can’t believe you just said that!”
“Why? Did it turn you on? Are your panties getting wet?”
“Stop it, Charlie.” She pointed her fork at me. “And you forget about my panties.”
“Not possible.” I slowly shook my head. “I’ve never met a woman named Marley before. What’s behind the name?”
She stared at me momentarily, popping a piece of calamari in her mouth.
“My parents are obsessed with Bob Marley. If I were a boy, I would have been named Robert and called Bob. Thank God I wasn’t. When I came out a girl, they thought Marley was good enough to stick their daughter with that name.”
“I know it’s popular for a dog’s name.” I smirked, sipping my wine.
“Same goes for Charlie, Charles. It is Charles, correct?”
“It is, but I prefer Charlie, never Charles. Anyway, your parents sound cool.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because they named you Marley.” I smiled.
“Well, they’re far from cool. So, you can get that idea of them out of your head.”
When she talked about her parents, her tone changed from fun to serious. I suspected she had ill feelings toward them, and I wanted to know why.
“What’s wrong with your parents?” I asked.
“Nothing.” She looked down at her plate.
Salvatore walked over and set our food down in front of us.
