Midnight Daffodil (Poisonous Petals #1)

Chapter 27Luke

twenty-seven

LUKE

T aking the woman of your dreams out to one of your favorite places, only for the waiter to assume you were her fucking dad, was an experience unlike any other. The server returned my ID, his eyes locked on my girl.

He winked at Olivia before turning back to me. "A veteran, huh? What was it like serving in a world war? Were there phones back in your day?"

I took my ID back and tucked it in my wallet. "Why don't you ask your grandaddy?"

Olivia snorted in her tea before laughing, and fucking hell; I loved that sound.

His eyes narrowed on my open carry Glock at my hip. A toy compared to the weaponry I’ve used before, but a bigger caliber wouldn't be necessary to shut him up and keep his eyes off of what was mine.

“You like what you see?” I asked when his gaze lingered too long. His eyes darted to Olivia, in her skin tight sweater dress, then back to me, in my street clothes, before scampering away from our table.

I towered over him, with more muscle weight than he probably had in his family. He was ballsy, I’d give him that.

A waitress skittered as she balanced a tray full of beverages and fresh, steaming appetizers. Olivia finally took a bite out of the delectable rolls, and my eyes traced the way the butter dripped off her full lips.

“I’ve never been here before,” she said between mouthfuls.

“It’s kind of far from where you used to stay,” I told her as I buttered my own roll. “It’s one of my favorite places. Reminds me of home in South Carolina, having Sunday dinners with my family. And, of course, the music here is good, too.”

She hummed along to the country tunes. Everything about her fascinated me. She made a man want to fall in love.

“Are you folks ready to order?” The waiter, who had deemed me a senile old man, came back over.

Every turn of Olivia’s head sent her long hair sweeping over her full breasts. Her pink lips shined with butter and gloss. Her doe eyes had the slight haze of a freshly fucked woman, and damn if she didn’t look good enough to eat.

And I planned to.

“I think I’ll order the steak and chicken combo.” She eagerly ordered her sirloin medium and got a side of loaded mashed potatoes and rice pilaf.

The waiter turned to me and frowned. “And you for you, Sir.”

I wanted to laugh. I wanted to tell him that the girl he’d been ogling over the entire night had me leaking down her inner thighs.

But I refrained.

As usual, I ordered a medium-rare ribeye with a loaded baked potato. He collected our menus, took Olivia’s first, and brushed her hand.

“Your hands are soft, miss,” he said to her. They were.

They feel amazing wrapped around my dick.

Olivia just smiled and thanked him politely.

He reached for my menus, and once he had taken them in his hand, I tightened my grip on them and pulled him down to my level.

“You keep gawking at my girl,” the words tore from curled lips, “you’ll find out why I was featured on the news.”

His face turned pale. I continued my grip firm on the menus. “Do you understand what I just said?”

He nodded like a bobblehead on the dash of a Volkswagen. I held the menus a second longer than necessary before letting go and watching him scurry back to the kitchen.

“Luke!” she whisper shouted, her skin flushing.

“What?” God, that blush across her skin was everything.

“You probably scared him half to death.” She laughed and playfully kicked me under the table. I took both her legs and secured them between mine, crossing my ankles.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about; I’m just an old man. Remember?” I laughed at her expression.

“Fine, just promise me no more terrifying the staff.” She leaned on the table, resting her chin in her hands; the motion pressed her breasts together just enough to give me a preview of her cleavage. “You said this is your favorite place. You’ll never get service if they're all afraid of you.”

“Uh-huh. Like I said, I’m just an old man. Served in World War Two and everything,” I drawled.

A loud voice came over the restaurant as the staff sang Happy Birthday to a kid a few tables over. The waiter who yelled had the thickest country accent I’d ever heard, and I was from South Carolina.

Olivia giggled across from me. “Can you sound like that? Will you talk like that the rest of the night?”

I felt my eyes roll. “I can. And I will not be doing that.”

The rest of the restaurant faded into the background as I listened to Olivia beg me for a solid ten minutes to be “more country”.

“You tryin’ to turn me into some country boy fetish fantasy you have? And I thought the cop one was gonna be hard to beat,” I muttered as she laughed.

“I think a country cop would be hot,” she said, drawing out the word to mock the southern accent.

“Is that how I sound to you?”

“Oh,” she cooed, “don’t grimace like that. Your face will get stuck.”

Another fit of amusement from her as she nodded her head furiously.

“If you’re a good girl,” I drawled in the thickest Southern accent I could muster, “maybe I’ll talk like this when I stuff your sweet cunt with my cock.”

Her cheeks saturated red. “I’m always a good girl.” Her voice was doused in sex.

Our food came out moments later and the lover boy didn’t even look at Olivia. He kept his attention on me, remembering my earlier threat. “Does your table need anything else?”

I shook my head and watched him walk away. Olivia’s playful kick to my shin ripped my gaze back to her.

“Careful, kicking me the way you were. I might have to arrest you for elder abuse,” I told her as she took her first bite of sirloin. The juices dripped from her lips as they closed around the fork.

I imagined her lips doing all sorts of things, closing around my cock while I pumped it into her throat. Her pink tongue flicked out to lick the glossy gates of heaven clean of any residue.

“You could put those handcuffs to good use, Luke.”

“Keep saying my name like that, and I’ll make you fucking scream it all night,” I said to her as I started into mine.

“Now, now, officer, don't threaten me with a good time,” she purred.

We ate our dinner in comfortable silence, enjoying the music and people-watching. Servers and bussers scuttled past our table, constantly refilling drinks and taking dishes. I stole a glance at Olivia. Being with her was easy, like breathing. I started to think that maybe I had done something right in life to find an angel like her.

I wasn’t letting her go this time.

“This place is good.” She set her silverware down, looking satisfied at her nearly empty plate.

“It’s one of the best. There’s only a couple of them in Seattle. It’s a shame they aren’t closer to the city, or I’d be here more often,” I told her. “I come here sometimes with Aidan.”

“Oh, so that must mean he’s your best friend, right?” she teased.

Olivia stirred up a storm of emotions in my heart that I never thought I could feel. Before I knew she existed, I pictured myself alone. No kids, no wife, just Rev and me. But now, I looked at her and saw home.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” she asked, sitting back in the seat, self-conscious. “You’re not upset that I called Aidan your bestie, are you?”

“No, just admiring you.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m painfully average.” Her eyes glanced down as she spoke, wearing her brokenness like an accessory. “You’re the hot one.”

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Angel,” I murmured. Her brown eyes met mine; they were round and gorgeous, the darkness from her pupils cascaded outwards, blending into a sepia color.

I could get lost in them.

“You’re perfect,” I told her, taking her hand.

Her breath shuddered, and I watched the pulse point in her neck pick up at my words. I meant everything I said to her. There weren’t enough words in English or any language that could describe how she made me feel. I wanted to make her feel special, but I also wanted to see her choking on my dick.

Ya know, gentlemanly.

The atmosphere of the night was changing. The songs shifted to gentle, melodic tunes, and the small dance area was now a sea of couples swaying together. Olivia's gaze lingered on one couple, lost in their methodical movements.

“Did you want to dance?”

She smiled at some of the couples who were so in love they didn’t notice her eyes all over them. I wondered more than anything what was going through her pretty little mind.

“Yeah,” she said as the intro to one of my favorite duets played over the speakers.

My heart flipped in my chest when our fingers touched.

Lover boy watched us with a grimace. I glanced his way and winked, enjoying the sullen expression that paled his features.

As if it were the first dance I’d ever participated in, I fit my hands on the small of her waist, and hers slid up my pecs, leaving trails of fire everywhere they touched. She snuggled up to me, leaving no space between our bodies. Swaying to the rhythm, she knew every word. The lyrics dripped from her lips.

“I love this song,” she whispered into my chest.

I nodded, unable to form words with the scent of her surrounding me.

The final bridge sounded around us when the urge to kiss her vanquished any control I had. The need was so unendurable my heart would surely explode if I didn’t act on it.

I tilted her chin up with my hand, the touch so gentle it startled her as I brought my mouth down on hers. I craned my neck as low as I could. I felt her breasts press against my chest as she lifted on her toes to reach me.

I kissed her the way you kissed the love of your life. I traced her lips with my tongue, and she opened for me.

I claimed her mouth through the end of the song.

“Awww,” said a woman and her partner, walking off the dance floor. Soft murmurs of endearment filled the air as I reluctantly pulled away from her.

“Wow,” she said as she rested her forehead against mine. My thumbs caressed the flesh on her cheeks. I went back in for her lips once more. Closing my eyes when I pulled back, I memorized the feel of her in my arms, terrified that one of these times would be the last.

I tasted forever on her lips.

“What do you say we get gone?” Her body leaned into mine as she bobbed her head.

We made our way off the dance floor.

I paid the bill and tipped lover boy.

The old man got the girl.

We left the music behind, making our way out the doors. Her body trembled as the wind caressed her. I wrapped my leather jacket around her shoulders, holding the truck's door open for her. I started it up, cranking the heat to high while flicking on the seat warmers. Everything about that night was perfect, the dinner, the song.

That kiss.

I planned to take her back to my place and show her how special she was to me.