Page 232 of Devil’s Disciples

“At first, I liked your outfits. The sneakers with a dress look pretty sexy in my book. You were eager enough to come sit with me. I liked that. I thought you were bold. The to-do list let me know you were goal-oriented A driven woman is attractive as fuck. Then, the entire rattlesnake thing? Yeah, you’re different. And, you’re pretty as fuck.”

In what I was sure was a subconscious gesture, she swept her hair behind her ear and scratched the bottom of her nose with her index finger.

“You do that thing with your hair quite a bit,” I said. “I like it. It’s cute.”

“It’s a habit.” She said, still glowing red. “I do it all the time when I’m nervous. Or when I’m in deep thought about something. I don’t even realize it.”

I rested my chin in my hand and looked at her admiringly. “What were you thinking about when you did it at the meeting?”

“I do it and I don’t even realize it, so I don’t really know when you’re talking about. It’s funny. George can tell when I’m thinking about something because of it. He always says, ‘what’s on your mind, Abby?’”

A tinge of jealousy washed over me. I’d never felt jealous in my life, and it took me by complete surprise.

“Who’s George?” I asked, my tone slightly bitter.

“He’s a retired Marine who owns a deli. He’s like my second dad,” she replied. “I eat there all the time.”

A rush of relief came from hearing her response, and it troubled me. I hadn’t had a girlfriend since I was in high school, and I had no desire to change – or at least that’s what I thought. For whatever reason, I felt attracted to Abby beyond simply admiring her looks. It seemed my swollen brain was changing my manner of thinking. I wasn’t sure I liked it. Nonetheless, I forged on.

“You were sitting across from me. You did that thing with your hair, and then you pointed to the seat beside me.” I pointed to the empty booth space beside her. “So, what were you thinking? When you pointed?”

One side of her mouth curled up. “I thought you were handsome.”

I wasn’t a bad looking guy, but I was far from handsome. I cocked an eyebrow. “Handsome?”

Clearly embarrassed, her gaze fell to the table. “Uh huh.”

She did the hair thing again, and then scratched her nose with her finger.

“What’s on your mind, Abby?” I asked, citing the question she said George asked, word for word.

She looked up. A guilty grin was plastered on her face. “Nothing.”

“You were doing that hair thing,” I said. “So, you were thinking about something.”

“Are we being truthful?” she asked mockingly.

I shrugged. “Let’s try it for a while.”

Her mouth twisted into a smirk. “I was thinking about what you said earlier.”

I raised my brows in interest. “Which part?”

“About the pie,” she deadpanned. “I think I’m ready to give it a try.”

It wasn’t what I was hoping for. Seeing her devour a pie would be entertaining. Watching her writhe in sexual bliss while I shoved her full of cock would be better. I reached for my wallet, hoping the blood would drain from my stiff dick before I stood.

“Fine,” I whined. “Pie it is.”

She gave a coy smile and turned to the side. “I was thinking about the sex, silly.”

Now, instead of me torturing her, she was tormenting me. “What about it?” I asked, shoving the heel of my palm against my stiff dick.

“It’s been a long time for me,” she admitted. “Thinking about it is nice.”

Thinking about it was nice. Doing it would be better. Much better. I wondered if she was as deep in thought as I was.

“Is your pussy wet?” I asked.