“You can just stand in the corner for the time being,” he answers, suppressing a smile. No need to make the obvious jokes, I guess.
I ignore him and take the seat opposite him.
He gives me an amused look, but he doesn’t bother arguing. Instead, he digs in. I watch, though I’m pretending not to give a s**t, as he cuts off a large bite of the tiger prawn, ignoring the caviar. I’m tempted to tell him to take a bite of everything together, but I refrain. That’s not a hill I’m willing to die on.
I watch as he takes the first bite. It’s difficult not to watch his lips as he chews. Who knew that watching a man eat could be so arousing?
I’ve never experienced this before. When Dane would eat, I’d look away. He chewed with his mouth open, always dribbling bits onto his chin and beard. It was we
