Page 29 of Little Devil

I smirk at her over my shoulder and keep hold of her hand, guiding her in front of me by her waist while we make our way through the busy crowd. We get to the pizza place I found out here a couple weeks ago and I push the door open over her head, amused by the clear look of confusion on her face while I follow her inside.

“You know what you want?”

“Uh, no,” she says, standing up on her tip toes to look at the menu on the counter. “I’ve never had pizza before.”

“You’ve never had pizza?” I echo, pulling my head back in surprise. “How is that even possible?”

She shrugs and drops her eyes, tucking her hair behind her ears while she stares at the checkered floor like she’s fascinated by it. My brows dip and I chew the inside of my cheek, gently lifting her chin until her eyes hit mine. I haven’t known her long, but I’ve never seen her eat anything more than a few bites of lettuce in the cafeteria at school, and I’m betting that has less to do with her and more to do with that bitch of a mother I’ve heard so much about. Her and the asshole ex–boyfriend who made her change her clothes like he had the right.

“Can you not do that?” she asks, pulling her face from my hand. “I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.”

“I don’t feel sorry for you,” I say honestly, walking her along to the front of the line. “I feel sorry for them.”

She stares at me and I turn to the cute girl behind the counter wearing a black and red uniform and a snap back to match. She takes our order and nods along, reaching over to grab a couple paper cups from the stack on her left while she taps away on her screen.

“Pineapple or no pineapple?”

I look at Jordyn and she frowns, bouncing her eyes from me to the pizza girl and then back to me again. “I don’t understand the question.”

“Pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza, princess,” I inform her, taking my wallet out to toss a fifty down on the counter. “It’s a thing.”

“Why?”

“It just is.”

“I want the pineapple,” she insists, crossing her arms over her chest like she thinks I’m about to fight her on it.

I give her what she wants and we take our drinks, waiting just a few minutes before I take the pizza box from the guy at the end of the counter. I guide Jordyn to the exit and she frowns again, looking at me over her shoulder.

“We’re not eating in here?”

I shake my head and hold the door open for her with my forearm, shamelessly moving my eyes over her body while she passes me.

“Fuck me, you’re hot.”

The group of good looking guys behind her all voice their agreement and she drops her jaw, gaping at me with a hilarious look of outrage on her face.

I like making her do that.

Without thinking too much into it, I wrap my arm around her back and pull her into me, molding her to my chest while I lean over to tease her lips with mine.

I’d kill for her to let me put a bar through that hot little tongue of hers, to have her look up at me from her knees while she licks the length of my cock with it.

Goddamn.

I release her before I do something that’ll get me slapped and she falls in line beside me, shocked into silence, it seems, but I don’t miss the tiny little smile she’s failing to hide. We get back to my car and I set the food down on the hood, taking her waist to lift her up and place her down next to it. I jump up to sit beside her and flip the box open, passing her a slice before grabbing one for myself. I pick the pineapple off and she shakes her head at me, eating quietly for a minute before she tips her chin at the ocean right in front of us.

“You like the water?”

“I’m from California, remember?”

“Can you surf?”

“No,” I admit, laughing to myself at the memory of Nik trying to teach me when we were little.

I ended up in the hospital with a broken ankle and my parents lost their shit, yelled at Nik for getting me hurt and grounded him for two weeks.

It was hilarious.

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