"I'm gonna kill Shanice," she muttered to herself.
"It was her fault I was there to get you out of the clink that morning, so don't be too hard on her, eh?"
Great. Now he had two points. Relenting, Shanice sighed, "Fine, what'll it be?"
They walked over to the counter together where Shanice ordered a simple Earl Gray tea, then motioned for him to place his order.
He cut the coffee maker babe a fleeting glance then turned a riveting stare on Shanice. The man's voice dripped with so much sensuality, Shanice wondered if she could find a way to put it in a patch, women the world over could simply slap one between their legs when they needed a fix. She'd make a fortune.
"I'll have the special dark roast." Then with a saucy little tilt of his head, eyes never leaving hers. "With a shot of hot caramel and a bit of creaming...uh, I mean cream stirred in." Then he winked.
Holy shit! Was he flirting with her? Pwah. Creaming indeed.
"Oh and I'd like the half-and-half steamed. Make it good...and hot."
One side—oh god, she really shouldn't be looking—of his perfectly formed mouth tipped up into a grin and the belly jiggle harpies came out to play. Definitely harpies 'cause her stomach was dancing to a tune much too hard and lively to be butterflies.
Shanice's tea came up first. They stood waiting for his drink as she sipped the steaming hot brew trying to get her eyeballs to behave. They wanted to roam all over the man, take him in from head to toe. She'd already let her gaze stray once and now the damn things wanted to take that particular journey over and over.
Back at their table, Shanice felt suddenly shy. It was such an unfamiliar emotion she lowered her eyes and kept her gaze plastered to the steam rising from her cup while she tried to figure out what to do with herself.
Massimo chose that moment to lean in close. The natural scent of a clean, healthy man wafted her way, sending a beacon blush to her cheeks. Mentally screaming at her belly to stop flip-flopping, Shanice squeezed her warming thighs together and sipped the scalding hot tea. God, she wished an icy gale-force wind would blow through the building to cool her off. This was so not good. And for the life of her, Shanice couldn't think of a single reason why.
"You look awfully good today, Shanice," Massimo crooned. He probably hadn't meant for it to sound so sexy, but oh well.
"I'm wearing a black sweatsuit, Massimo," she huffed, determined to resist the man's charm.
"Yes, but it's what's in the suit that makes it look so good. Now, where should we go for lunch? As much as I love looking at you, I'm looking forward to eating. I'm so hungry I could just...feast." That last was said with more than a little innuendo. While it should have grated on Shanice's nerves, it strummed them instead.
It soon became urgent to change the subject because the current topic was heating up just a bit too quickly. And her goofy ass wanted to do the seventies disco shuffle while singing "Burn, Baby, Burn"!
With a brisk walk across the street to a little Italian deli, lunch was on. Once Shanice had been coaxed out of her shell a bit, the conversation flowed freely. They covered every subject from A to Z and soon a half-hour date turned into two hours. Shanice's general knowledge of, well, everything, combined with a wicked sense of humour had Massimo laughing so hard he practically choked on his food more than once.
As their meal progressed, he found himself wanting to prolong their time together by any means necessary. Shaking his head at himself, Massimo squashed down all the baser emotions the woman brought out of him. One moment he wanted to pamper her, the next he wanted nothing more than to touch her from her scalp clear down to her knees. He could see himself enjoying everything with her—a dumb B-movie, hot sweaty sex, a walk in the park, hot sweaty sex, or sitting in silence reading a book together, followed by...hot sweaty sex. Jesus, she'd turned him into a teenager eager to get his first taste of pussy!
