Page 85 of Wicked Temptation

Samson chuckled. “I’m like theTulsa King,only in Vegas.”

“I don’t get it.”

“TheTulsa Kingon Paramount with Sylvester Stallone. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen it.”

“Never, but I do like Sylvester Stallone.”

“Stallone plays this mob guy who gets in some deep shit in New York, so they ship him out to Tulsa to cool off. Of course, he’s a fish outta water, but he can’t stay away from life, so he starts a crew in Tulsa.”

“Sounds good.”

“When we get back, we’re watching it. Stallone nails the part.” Samson forked up a thick piece of brownie. “And he’s a good guy too. Whenever he was in New York, he used to stop in the Oasis. Said he always felt at home there 'cause Nick and I were the real deal.”

A smile tugged at her lips.

“What?”

“I forgot how much I enjoyed talking to you.”

He nabbed another fry, and his brow furrowed.

“Don’t ask me to explain it, I just love listening to you talk. As Stallone said, you’re the real deal.”

* * *

“Well, that works out good because I love talking to you.”

And that was the goddamn truth. Talking with Lisbeth always came easy. She had a way of listening like whatever came out of his mouth was the most fascinating thing she’d ever heard. It turned him on almost as much as her bangin’ body. Almost.

He surveyed the damage they’d done to the four big platters of food.

“Fuckin’ love a woman who can eat as much as me.”

She threw him a sheepish smile. “Almost embarrassing that I can eat as much as a man who probably weighs twice as much as me.”

“Nah, I love it. Can’t stand a woman who only eats lettuce. It ain’t normal.”

“There it is again, that natural honesty. A very hard trait to find in a man.”

“I’ve been told I have no filter, and that wasn’t a compliment either.” He screwed his face up. “But sometimes shit just has to be said.”

“I love your honesty, and I always have.”

Whether she realized it or not, they’d both used the word “love” a few times in the last five minutes. Granted, it wasn’t in the traditional way, but still. He gulped down a hefty swig of beer, swallowing down the fear that word instilled in him.

Samson finished his beer, gripped Lisbeth’s barstool, and pulled it between his legs. His fingers twirled the ends of her silky hair, then he palmed the back of her neck and drew her in for a kiss. She tasted like ice cream and chocolate—his new favorite flavor. Their tongues teased, and teeth nipped at one another, and when she moaned into his mouth, his dick jumped against the zipper of his jeans. He circled her waist, deepening the kiss and drawing her closer until she practically straddled his lap on the barstool.

“Hey!” Red’s voice boomed. “This is a respectable joint.”

Samson smiled against Lisbeth’s lips, then turned his head to Red. “Since when is this place anywhere near respectable?”

“You wanna fuck each other use the restrooms like decent folk.” Red laughed around his comment. “Why do you think I made the counters so wide?”

Samson and Lisbeth shared a look, each remembering when they’d done that very thing at the Oasis.

Samson pulled out his wallet to pay the bill, and Red waved it away. “On the house for bringing this beautiful lady here and classing up the place.”

“Why thank you.” Lisbeth flashed Red one of her best features—her genuine smile.

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