I didn’t want to be one of those fucking creeps that can’t keep their eyes off a pretty girl, but Josephine was a knockout, and every possessive instinct in me reared up. I knew I wouldn’t let this go.

I wanted her as mine, and I could already see how this would play out. She’d probably think I was a caveman, and so be it, because once I set my mind to something, I didn’t back down.

“Anything else?” the waitress asked.

I watched as she shook her head, her focus on the waitress. “I’m good,” I said, never deviating my focus from Josephine. Once we were alone again, I leaned back and stared her. She was getting nervous. I could see by the way she shifted on the chair and glanced anywhere but at me.

“Tell me about yourself.” I wanted, no, needed to know everything about her.

“Me?” The surprise was clear in her voice.

“Yeah.”

She started messing with her napkin, and I didn’t stop myself from reaching across the table and placing my hand over hers. Her skin was warm and soft, and I imagined her entire body would feel like satin beneath me. Her eyes widened.

“Why would you want to know about me?”

I was pleased she hadn’t pulled her hand out from under mine. “Why wouldn’t I want to know about you?”

Then she licked her lips. I stared at them, imagining them parted and wrapped around my dick. My cock came alive, the fucker throbbing.

“I got this job at an interior design store just inside Rustin.”

I nodded, finally removing my hand from hers because I didn’t want to make her feel off-kilter. Although truth was I fucking loved having her on edge. It turned me on.

“You know the place?” Her face turned red after she asked that.

“Yeah.” I smiled. “Rustin’s pretty small.”

Her face got even redder, and I became so damn hot, so fucking aroused seeing her nervous and embarrassed.

“That was a stupid question.” She glanced down.

“No, it wasn’t.” She didn’t glance up at me yet. “Hey, look at me.” I didn’t mean to sound so demanding, at least not right now, but I didn’t want her feeling like shit needed to be awkward. She finally lifted her head. “You and I may not know each other that well, but that’s going to change, yeah?” She nodded slowly but instantly. That pleased me. “Where are you from?” I struck up the conversation again and saw the redness in her face lessening.

“Groveport.”

She had only been a few hours from Rustin.

“You an interior designer, or are you doing something else there?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I actually do the interior design stuff but also minored in business management.” The waitress refilled our water glasses. Guess it was clear we weren’t going anywhere. “But the store is so small, and the town tiny in comparison to the other business owned by the company, that I’m surprised it’s doing as well as it is in Rustin.”

“People have a way of surprising you.” I didn’t know anything about interior design. I didn’t give care about much aside from my garage and fixing cars. But I was very interested and most definitely gave a shit about what Josephine had to say.

“So I graduated, and here I am. Twenty-two years old and already got my dream job.” She flushed, and I knew it was from pride.

Well, damn. I knew she was young, but didn’t realize I was thirteen years older than her.

“You own the garage, I assume?”

I smirked. It was cute the way she asked that. “Yeah. Used to be my old man’s, but when he passed away, I took over.”

Genuine sympathy covered her face. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It was years ago, and he died of his own accord. Drank himself to death.” I ran a hand over my jean-clad thigh. I didn’t like talking about him. “He wasn’t the best of fathers anyway, so things are better off now.” Maybe that was harsh to say, but it was the truth. And I was finding myself wanting to be totally honest with Josephine. I felt like stripping myself bare so she could see every little crack in my armor. And I had plenty.

“Well, I’m still sorry.” She offered me this sweet smile. I could tell she wanted to ask me more, but she didn’t. There wasn’t much more to say anyway. My mother died years before my father. I’d only heard about her passing because my aunt called. I guess that’s what happens when your mother runs out on her family because she couldn’t handle an alcoholic husband.

“It’s only my mom and me,” she finally said after long seconds. She had her focus on the table, her hand running over the cracked Formica top. “But she’s a newlywed, and they ended up moving to North Carolina, so I don’t really see her anymore.”

I saw the forlorn look on her face. We needed to get off this depressing shit.

“Tell me what you like,” I asked. Tell me what you want in bed. Tell me what you want me to do to you, how you want me to touch you. Tell me how to make you see you’re already mine.

“I like a lot of things.”

My cock throbbed, my balls drew up tight, and I clenched my hand into a fist on top of my thigh.

“I’m pretty simple though, to be honest.” She looked around after speaking. “I’m going to run to the restroom.”

I nodded, acting cool, collected.

Acting like I didn’t have a raging hard-on right now for her.

I could wish the bastard to go down before I had to stand, but I didn’t give a shit who saw what I was sporting. In fact, I kind of hoped Josephine saw what she did to me. Her reaction would be the gasoline on the already out-of-control fire I had for her.