Naked Truth (5 page)

“Not very picky?” she asks me.

I smile at her and just shake my head “no” to answer her question. I take that time to look at her. Really look. And I am astounded by her beauty. What’s more, I don’t think she has a clue how she looks, and that turns me on even more.

“Yeah, me neither,” she says with a straight face. 

All I have to do is quirk one eyebrow at her and she breaks.  She starts cracking up and her snorting is infectious.  I can’t contain myself and I start laughing as well.  I’m so tired of feeling like I am constantly on. Like I can’t relax or show my true colors.  I hate always feeling so guarded and coming off like an asshole to those who don’t truly know me. But Violet? She is so easy to be with.  I don’t feel like I need to put on a show or impress her. I can be myself, and I am enjoying each minute with her more than the last. Conversation flows so easily and nothing feels like it needs to be forced or faked.  A woman like Violet could be very dangerous, but at this very moment, she has me willing to play Russian Roulette with my heart.

As she picks up her menu, I notice her glance to the side a few times.  The bitchy women are talking again, but I am pretty sure it’s in Spanish. I’m also pretty sure they’re talking about her.  I didn’t want to reaffirm her anxiety from earlier, but they were checking me out and then judging her. And while it’s always flattering to have women checking me out, I don’t like the way they are making her feel.

I try to catch her attention and distract her.  Plus, I love talking to her, which is new for me, so it’s no skin off my nose.

“What are you in the mood for?” I ask her.

“I’m not sure yet. What are you having?”

“I heard the ribs here are really good,” I offer a suggestion.

She just shrugs.  “I don’t eat ribs,” she tells me.  Interesting. I wonder if she is a vegetarian.

“No?”

“Nothing with bones,” she answers when a blush begins to creep up her cheeks. She tries to hide it behind her menu, but not before I catch her smile. Yeah, I know what she’s thinking.

“So, no bones? Ever?” I tease.

Both of her eyebrows raise and she shoots me a look, and I love it!

“How about bacon wrapped scallops?” I try again to see if she eats meat.

She winces.

“What? There’s no bones.”

“I don’t eat pork. Or fish,” she tells me and I’m starting to get it. She’s a really picky eater. And drinker.

I don’t know why I find this so cute and endearing.  What I do know, for a fact, is that if this were any other woman, this would be our first and last date. But it’s Violet. And the more I learn, the more I want to know. So I keep going.

“Eggplant parm with steamed broccoli?”

She shakes her head.

“No cheese?” I ask.

“I eat cheese but not cooked vegetables. Sorry, I know I am kind of picky when it comes to food.”  I think she is starting to get embarrassed, and that’s definitely not my goal, so I try to lighten the mood.

“Nah, I like a girl who knows what she wants,” I tease then smile coyly.

I reach across the table and give her hand a squeeze before returning it back to my menu, just in time to catch her blushing again. I find that every time Violet blushes, my cock hardens, and I don’t know if it’s her apparent innocence or the fact that my body is extremely turned on by her.

“Do you eat raw vegetables?” I ask, trying to learn more, and distracting my one track minded dick.

“Yes, just not cooked.  Unless it had to be, like asparagus.”

“Ok, I’ll bite.  Why not cooked?”

“Just don’t like the texture.”  She starts chewing on her thumbnail again. It must be a defense mechanism, but she is unknowingly making my now rock hard cock throb.

I reach down under the table and discretely adjust myself. Jeans are torture when your dick wants to be set free. Damn zipper.

“What else is on your list of no gos?” I ask sincerely, finally feeling a little relief from my adjustment.

“You sure you want to know more of my craziness?”

“Hit me.”

She pauses in thought, probably trying to decide whether she should indulge more of her nuances to me, then nods briefly.  “Okay, but just remember that you asked for it. Hmm, let’s see.  Any kind of weird meat like venison or bison or alligator. No birds other than chicken or turkey.  Nothing that smells weird or looks weird.  And I don’t like sourdough bread.”

“Because?” I prompt, perplexed. What could she have against bread?

“Because it smells funny.”

I stifle a laugh.

“Oh, and if it has anything to do with vanilla, I will wretch.  Like really may throw up,” she adds.

“I love learning all of this about you, sweetheart. You are cracking me up,” I tell her.

She freezes when the “sweetheart” slipped out.  And it did just slip out, but it felt so natural.  There was nothing forced about it. I keep talking so she doesn’t clam up on me.

“So you eat steak, burgers, and chicken?”

“Heck yeah! I love a good steak and potatoes.” She smiles, which naturally makes me smile.

Nope, not a vegetarian. “I love a girl who eats.”

She seems distracted again.  I can hear the catty bitches chatting again, and I can’t help but wonder if they are talking about me or her.  I wish I knew more Spanish than the dirty words I’ve picked up in the club.

I try to refocus her on me by asking another question.

“Okay, so anything on the menu catching your fancy?”

“The grilled shrimp skewers and jasmine rice sounds good,” she tells me and I am utterly confused.

“I thought you don’t eat fish?” I ask, puzzled.

“I don’t,” is all she gives me, with no explanation.

“Shrimp?”

“Shrimp doesn’t count,” she tells me and looks at me like I am the one who is making up these fandangled rules.

She makes a funny face at me then makes a loco sign at her head acknowledging that she knows her explanations are a tad bit crazy.

I bark out a laugh and shake my head in bewilderment. “You certainly keep me on my toes, Violet.”

Just then, the two women from the table adjacent to ours finally get up to leave and I am relieved. They were really adding a stress to our date that I wasn’t anticipating.

“You like it when I keep you on your toes?” she asks, and her assertiveness catches me off guard as it is a little out of character for her, from what I’ve learned thus far. And, of course, my cock reflates.

“Yeah, why?” I ask suspiciously.

But she doesn’t answer. What she does do absolutely blows me away. As the two nasty bitches pass our table on their way to exit, Violet actually stops them.  Stops them!

“Excuse me ladies,” Violet engages.

They both halt and turn around, looking shocked at Violet’s boldness. To be honest, I am looking at her in the same fashion, only I want to fuck the shit out of her.  Then, out of nowhere, she floors us all.

“
Espero que ustedes damas tengan una noche agradable. Ah, y no dejen que la puerta ustedes golpeó donde Dios las dividió.”

The two witchy women walk away in a huff and I feel unabashedly satisfied. Jordan is staring at me, with what looks likes a cross between shock and impressed, and I’m loving every second of it.

“Wha…huh…where?” he stutters, unable to complete his thought.

I just smile and lightly chuckle at his incoherency.

“I don’t know where to start,” he spits out.

I look at him innocently, like I don’t know that I just surprised the heck out of him.

“Let’s start with, what did you say to them?” he asks.

“I just told them to have a nice evening,” I tell him. Omission isn’t really lying, right? We’ve already discussed this earlier.

He laughs. “That sounded like a little more than just ‘have a nice night,’ Violet,” he catches on.

I shrug. “Maybe.”

He laughs a little harder.  “You are too much.” He smiles at me. “And you speak Spanish?” he asks in astonishment.

“Yeah. My mother is Puerto Rican, so we were raised bilingual.”

He nods in understanding.  I see his arm lower slowly under the table, and this is the second time I’ve seen him do it.  He’s not wiping his hands on his napkin because it’s already back on the table, so I’m curious as to what he keeps doing. If it’s what I think it is, I am going to blush like a tomato, so for self-preservation, I will assume he’s doing something completely unrelated to what I am thinking.

Conversation continues to flow freely until the check comes.  I offer to pay my own way, but he gives me an over-my-dead-body-look, and my feelings strengthen for him even harder.  I feel so taken care of with him, and it has only been one date.  I really hope he asks me out for a second. He sends Trish off with his credit card, then reaches across the table and grabs my hands, which are resting on the table.

“I had a great time, Violet.”

“So did I,” I return the gesture.

“I really don’t want the date to end, but I have to go to work tonight.”

“Really? Now?” I ask suspiciously, wondering if that’s just his way of trying to blow me off.

He sighs and rubs his hand on the back of his neck in what looks like frustration. “Yeah, I’ve been working the night shift lately.”

“Everyday?”