Page 118 of Pack Rivals, Part One

She better believe it, I do. "I like my food genuine. Real. Tasty." Just like my women. "Here," I say, gesturing to the place, and holding open the door for her. Inside it's cool and decked out like a French cafe. I take her up to the counter to order.

"Paris," she murmurs.

"Yeah, I think that's what they're going for." I point to the board. "What you going to try then?"

I watch as her eyes skate down the list. "How am I ever meant to choose?"

"Order as many as you like."

"Seriously?"

"Why not?"

"I can't do that."

"Then what do you prefer, sweetheart? Chocolate or fruit?"

I hope she says chocolate. I've always been told that is what my scent smells most like. Dark chocolate.

"Hmmm, maybe something chocolaty."

I lean into her, noticing the way she drifts my way, towards my scent and my body.

How soon can I relocate her into that bedroom?

"In that case, we're going for the most chocolate shit they have to offer."

I beckon the server over and order the one with all the chocolate chips, toppings and sauce, then I lead her over to a table by the window, scooting my chair in close to hers.

"Right, let me show you this place." I flick up the pictures on my phone. I've already removed all the real estate garbage.

She sighs as she takes my phone in her hands. That's because the first photo is the one of that bedroom. Seems it has the same effect on her as it did Angel, as it did me. I wonder if she's imagining all the things I'm going to do to her in that bedroom.

"Beautiful, huh?"

"And totally out of my price range. You do know I'm an administrator, right? And Courtney works in a department store. We can't afford somewhere like this." She hands back my phone.

The only thing they could afford in this city is a shoebox which is what they were living in before. The thought of her cupboard-sized room makes me sick just thinking about it. This woman is a queen. She should be living like one.

I rest my phone down on the table and swivel the picture around in her direction.

"You don't need to worry about that."

"I can't accept your charity, Hardy."

"Hey," I tap my finger against the table, "I never mentioned charity." She starts to argue and I shake my head. "Hear me out, will you?"

"One chocolate deluxe and one caramel," the server says from behind us and when I nod, he places two long glasses on the table top.

Bea leans forward, catching the straw between her lips and sucks.

I stare at her. It's pornographic. She has no idea.

I pick up my drink and tip the cold liquid into my mouth.

She stops sucking and bounces her straw in her drink.

"Okay, I'll hear you out."

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