Page 81 of Devour

I’d say we were making up for lost time, but if hubs truly was one of us, he wouldn’t be going anywhere, anytime soon. The downside being, even if he wanted to be with me forever, he didn’t ask for immortality. That realization hit hardest: one day all his friends and family would die, and with any luck, we’d get another decade with both. Inevitably they would start asking too many questions, which would mean cutting our losses and starting all over again somewhere else. We could keep reinventing ourselves however much we wanted, with new friends and new careers and even new names if he desired. We could do whatever we wanted, and we would always have each other. So even if his church didn’t approve, and even if his dad might never understand—or even know about—how we felt for each other, we would outlive those opinions.

Eli and I had a literal eternity to look forward to now, which made the last few years feel more like record-breaking extended foreplay than time wasted. Time would be one factor we would never have to consider again. We could spend all year fucking or feeding if we wanted and never even have to leave the house, but my hubby was hungry. And he didn’t want to snack or feed, he wanted to eat.

Henceforth, we started what we called the dinner date. We picked a place at random. We always arrived together, then split to divide and conquer. He kept me in the loop on his progress and vice versa. If nothing appealed to us, we reunited and moved onto the next location—rinse and repeat. Until we found the one—a meal we could not pass up. Hubby absolutely had a type, and unfortunately for them, he loved to eat even more than I did. Maybe even needed it more too since he still had that hunger of youth.

Tonight we found ourselves almost right back where we started. We’d already split, and he’d left me to stalk the perimeter while I dove right into somewhere similar to where we first met, dark and loud and filled with too many bodies. Hubby never wandered too far, but he proved to be better at sifting through the noise than me. We each had our strengths in that respect. While he kept his distance, I stuck to the dance floor and scanned the immediate area while people bumped past me. This one… cheating on their spouse, morally questionable, but I wasn’t their spouse. This one… planning to lift someone’s wallet, not terrible nor violent, so I easily let it slide. This one… tempting. Very tempting. Hits all his girlfriends and overall a scumbag human.

No.

Eli must have something better to refuse, but I wasn’t ready to abandon my first choice yet. You found someone you like over there?

Yes.

How good?

My favorite. So hissy. So hungry.

Ah, delightful. Now for my turn to shine. From here, I only had to gravitate to wherever hubby hid himself while browsing the menu. Another one of his strengths. While I could be bright and beautiful, like the perfect lure, hubs had a way of blending into crowds and shadows like a true hunter. We didn’t need to tell each other where we would be anymore. I would just know where he would be and then…

Oh, yeah. I found who he meant standing at the end of the bar. Somewhat older than Eli, but desperately trying to appear younger. I brushed against his shoulder and bit into my lower lip with a smile when he noticed me.

“Buy me a drink?” I chirped.

“Can’t buy your own?”

Smiled even wider, stepped even closer. “I learned the hard way that bartenders will check IDs closer than doormen.”

A raised brow and a curious grin. I had his attention. “How old are you?”

“Guess.” And I poured every ounce of mischief in my answer into my smile, before burying my grin behind a floppy sleeve like the innocent lil cutie I was. Yes, the bare shoulders and too long sleeves of this outfit were intentional. Part of successful baiting was using the right materials.

“Twenty?”

Much younger.

I shook my head.

“Eighteen?”

Aim for as young as you think you can convince him.

Another shake.

“Sixteen?”

I put a finger to my lips and giggled. “Almost. Don’t tell.”

And I had his full attention now. Yet, he was already thinking about how almost sixteen fell on the older end for him. Ugh. Once again, hubby had been right, but I could tell as soon as I got close enough, too. This guy had hurt a lot of kids in his time. A lot. Most of whom were even younger than he thought I was.

“How old do you think I am?” He smiled after he asked.

I inhaled and blew out a breath, appearing to try very hard at my guess. “Twenty-five?”

He was not twenty-five, but delighted at my answer since he would turn forty next month.

“You’re much better at guessing than I am.”

“Well, it’s a gift,” I proclaimed, turning my hand out with obvious pride. “I’m really good at reading people.”

---