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This was going just as well as I thought it would. My awkwardness and inability to relax was shining brightly as silence fell between us. I thought about saying something to break the tension that quickly fell upon our table, but I had no clue what to talk about.

There were so many things I wanted to tell her. A part of me wanted to open up to her because I felt like she would understand where I was coming from. A part of me wished she would understand, but I couldn’t take the risk. Right now, she at least wanted to be in my presence. If I told her what kind of a monster I was, would she ever want to see me again?

Did I want to see her again? I didn’t want a relationship—it would be too complicated—but the short walk from her apartment to the restaurant with her arm in mine had been one of the best couple of minutes I’d experienced in a long time. Her body had been soft against mine, and I’d enjoyed how her ponytail brushed against me when she turned to point at something, or the way little whiffs of her perfume fluttered into my nose. She was so incredibly feminine and so incredibly fuckable.

“Here you are,” the waitress said, placing two waters on our table. “Have you decided what you’re having?”

“I have,” Lyla said while glancing at me from over her menu. I motioned for Lyla to go first. “I’ll take the special with red beans and rice.”

“Very good, and for you, sir?”

“I’ll have the same,” I replied. “And can we get an appetizer of the boudin, please?”

“Yes, certainly.”

The waitress wrote down our order and took off.

“Wow,” Lyla said while leaning back in her chair.

“What?”

“You know the word ‘please.’ I’m actually kind of shocked.”

“Don’t be a smartass,” I replied, not liking the snarky look on her face.

She smiled sincerely at me and then grabbed my hand. She entwined her fingers with mine and for some odd reason, I liked it and didn’t pull away. Normally in a situation like this, I would tighten up and bail, but Lyla made it seem so easy. A light touch felt good.

I allowed her thumb to glide across the back of my hand while she spoke to me, and I let myself, for this brief moment in time, enjoy it.

“Thank you for taking me out tonight, Kace.”

“You’re welcome,” I said uncomfortably. “It’s the least I could do after taking you in the back of Kitten’s Castle,” I tried to tease.

“It’s the least.” She smiled brightly.

“Speaking of Kitten’s Castle, how much longer are you going to work there?”

“Kace…,” she warned. “We’re not going to talk about that unless you want me to ask you questions about your past.”

“Nope,” I said. “Fair enough.”

I wanted Lyla out of Kitten’s Castle, but it looked like she wasn’t going to budge, at least not right now. I still had plans to try to convince her otherwise.

“So tell me, are you excited about Justice opening soon?”

I nodded and took a sip of my water. “I think it’s come along nicely other than some of the classes the girls have come up with.”

“I think the classes will be well received. Pole dancing is all about fitness.”

“Is that right?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It is. Do you think it’s easy hanging upside down with only your legs to keep you in place while your boobs flop around?”

“Well, I’ve never tried it with my boobs flopping around, but I can’t imagine it being easy.”

“Was that a joke?” she asked, tightening her grip on my hand.

“Last one you will hear tonight, promise.”

“That’s a promise I hope you plan on breaking.” She smiled. “I’m happy for you and the girls. You’ve worked so hard putting together the center. I know it will do great.”

“I’ll be excited when everything is done. The housing portion will take the longest since Jett decided to offer miniature apartments for those seeking refuge. But for now, having the classes and gym open will be sufficient. It’s a work in progress.”

“Are you getting yourself ready to teach some boxing lessons?”

I shrugged. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about the whole thing. I didn’t want to teach adults how to box, at least not right away, because they would be the ones who knew who I’d been, so I decided to hold classes for kids at first and some self-defense classes too.

“You seem apprehensive,” Lyla pushed. Just like Goldie, she never let anything just go.

“Not sure how I feel about it all,” I said, gripping her hand a little tighter. I never brought up my past profession, ever, so talking about giving boxing lessons was bordering on uncomfortable since it was so close to what I used to do.

“Self-defense lessons seems like an interesting class. I might join in on the fun.”

Grateful for the change in subject, I smirked. “Is that right?”

“Yeah, and I might need a practice dummy. You would be the perfect match.”

“Watch what you ask for, sweetheart. If I was your practice dummy, I wouldn’t take it easy on you.”

“You know I like it hard, so no worries.”

Fuck if I didn’t just grow stiff from the way she bit her lip and looked at me seductively. Her thumb continued to graze my skin as heat poured off her. No matter how far I tried to push her away, she always managed to work her way back into my life somehow.

Our waitress brought over our plate of boudin, smiled, and left.

“Did you see that?” Layla asked as she grabbed one of the small plates on the table and put it in front of her.

“See what?” I asked.

“She was totally checking you out, right in front of me.”

“Do you blame her?” I said in an egotistical tone, holding my arms out so she got a good view of my chest.

Lyla crossed her arms. “The man doesn’t have manners but can be a cocky son-of-a-bitch when he wants to be.”

“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

She shook her head and looked down at the boudin. “Well, this is not what I was expecting. They changed things on me.”

“Yeah, these are fried balls, huh. Never seen boudin like this.” I grabbed one and popped it in my mouth, not worried about the heat coming off them since I practically had a metal mouth. I swallowed and said, “Not bad.”

“Well, that was a disgusting display of macho eating.”

“Macho eating?” I asked. I watched her take a ball and use her fork to cut into it. Steam evaporated in the air.

“Did you even chew it?”

“Yeah, of course I did. Only need a couple of chews to get it down the gullet.”

I grabbed another and tossed it in my mouth, quickly making that one go down as well. There were four on the plate, so the last one was for Lyla. Pleased, I sat back and watched her eat.

In disbelief, she shook her head at me and then put the rest of the boudin in her mouth. She struggled significantly with its size and heat, and her eyes watered while she tried to cool the boudin down by breathing out of her mouth and taking swallows of water. After some fancy mouth maneuvering, she was able to break the ball down and swallow. She held her mouth open for me and said, “Ta-da!”

I looked around and then leaned forward. “Should I clap?”

“You better fucking clap. That was torture.”

Chuckling, I gave her a slow clap while she bowed and waved her hand in appreciation.

“The best boudin is the kind in the sausage casing that you suck out, and after you’ve got it all, it looks like a used condom, all shriveled up and gross.”

“Yes, I love it when my food ends up looking like a used condom. Rather appetizing,” I replied as she stuck the remaining boudin with a fork.

“Who doesn’t?” she smirked.

Our main entrees showed up shortly after that, and we talked about trivial things while we sucked on the heads of our crawfish and enjoyed the traditional rice and beans. It was obvious Lyla used her meal to entice me by the way she sucked on the crawfish and moaned about their Cajun flavors. To say I didn’t let it affect me was a lie. With each lick of her fingers and devilish look in her eyes, I grew harder by the second. Her pink lips glistened, and her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, reminding me what her lips were capable of.