An all-new standalone novel in C.R. Ellis’ Forget Me Knot series is out tomorrow, but I have a little sneak peek for you.
How the hell did I get here? Specifically, across from Sophia, in a booth, at her favorite local diner.
I’m not this guy. I don’t do dates. I can’t even remember the last time I shared a meal in public with a woman. And I can tell you the exact number of times I’ve done it twice in one day: zero. But this isn’t a date; this is finishing what we started. I’m not a quitter. Some might say my incessant need to close and get what I want makes me an asshole, but I don’t give a fuck. Growing up with a dad who cared more about making money than making memories with his son will do that to you.
I pop another antihistamine and focus on mentally undressing Sophia while she’s looking over the menu. She ditched the torturous outfit from lunch in favor of ripped jeans and an annoyingly large flannel shirt, which shouldn’t be just as appealing, but it is. She still looks good enough to eat.
By the time our waiter comes by, I realize my eyes have spent longer on Sophia than on my menu. Without hearing what she ordered, I close the menu and tell him I’ll have the same.
“You like their tofu burgers too?” Sophia asks, surprised.
“The fuck?” I sputter. “That’s what you ordered?”
She tries to keep a straight face, but can’t contain her smile after a couple seconds, shaking her head and laughing. “Oh my god, you should see your face right now. Who knew big, bad Alexander Black was afraid of a little tofu?”
“First, I hope you enjoyed giving me a heart attack because payback’s a real bitch. Second, the next and only time I want to hear my full name come out of your mouth is when I’ve got my head between your thighs and you’re moaning my name while you come.”
Sophia shifts in her seat as a nice shade of pink floods her cheeks, and I know if my hand were to venture between her legs I’d find evidence of how my words affect her. In an instant, her whiskey-kissed eyes lift to mine, and she swallows down any desire that blush was carrying.
“All right, Xander. But the next time I wanna hear the word ‘sweetheart’ come out of your mouth is when you’re referring or speaking to the next nameless set of legs to stumble into your bed.”
Jesus. So much for getting through this meal without getting hard. Why is it so hot when she puts me in my place?