Page 58 of Midnights
“It’s not that bad. You’re being a big baby,” Rachel teases, her grin stretching ear to ear.
Raven shoots her a glare, then looks back to me. I grab my fork, loading a decent bite, but not enough to make her panic. I know if I hand it to her, she’ll refuse or stab me with it. And honestly? I wouldn’t bet against either possibility.
So I don’t give her the chance. I raise the fork to her mouth watching for a reaction.
Fire flashes behind her eyes. She’s stubborn as hell. But she doesn’t back down.
A smirk pulls at my lips as she leans in, and the second her lips wrap around the fork, her eyes lock onto mine.
Fuck.
Heat slams through me as I drag the fork out slowly. Yeah. This was a fucking terrible idea. Because now I’m thinking about those lips wrapped around something else entirely.
I tighten my grip on the fork, clenching my jaw to keep from reacting, because the thoughts running through my head are not safe for dinner conversation.
I can’t stop picturing her on her knees, wondering if she’d keep eye contact then, too.
Little shit.
The moment vanishes as quickly as it came. Her expression shifts, bracing for impact, afraid to let the taste spread across her tongue. It’s almost comical how invested I am in this, but I can't look away.
I see the exact moment the flavor hits. Her brows pull together, and she chews slowly, analyzing it like she’s mentally breaking it apart, layer by layer.
And then there’s a flicker or something else. Curiosity? Maybe even the smallest hint of approval.
I press my lips together to keep from grinning, bracing for whatever bullshit she’s about to come up with.
“Oh, my hell, just swallow it, you know you’ve had worse things in your mouth,” Rachel chimes in, while Cam laughs beside her.
I barely hear them, because watching Raven swallow is now the top of the fucking list of my favorite things she’s ever done.
And my body reacts immediately.
Hard. Again.
This night is going to be a damn problem. No question about that.
She stares down at her plate like it’s personally betrayed her. Then, her eyes finally lock onto mine, her expression pained like this confession might actually kill her.
“Okay, fine,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “It’s not that bad. But don't let it go to your head, though.”
Too late. She shoots me a look meant to wound, but the fire burning behind her eyes has already gone straight to my head.Bothof them.
There she is again, fighting a losing battle with her pride. She clearly hates losing, and that’s an interesting little fact I’m tucking away for later.
I lean back in my seat, draping my arm lazily across the back of the booth, enjoying every second of watching her suffer.
Cam and Rachel erupt into laughter, instantly breaking the tension and Rachel launches into a series of dramatic reenactments of all the times she’s tried, and failed, to get Raven to try new things. Each story is more ridiculous than the last, and suddenly, Raven's stubbornness is the night’s main entertainment.
I should be listening. But I’m not. I’m too busy thinking about how much I want her.
When dinner winds down, Cam and I push to our feet, motioning for the girls to do the same. Raven doesn’t even argue.
That alone feels like a victory.
We step out of the restaurant and Cam pauses to whisper something to the hostess before falling in beside me, leading the girls toward the car.
My properties aren’t publicly listed. In fact, they’re only available through an internal network, reserved for specific referrals. Rachel? Maybe. But my gut tells me otherwise.
