Free Dinner and a Movie by S.D. Grady Page A

the stoplight. She laughed, waved and blew the guy a kiss, again. She wondered if he recognized her without the Camaro . Probably not. They never did. She frowned as she hit the remote to unlock the door. She was too tall, too buxom, too wild, too…just too. She tried to diet, but it never did any good. Dad was 6’6’ and Mom a healthy 5’11’’. There was no way in hell Bernie Watkins would ever be anything but the woman no man wanted.
     
    * * * *
    No shit. Liam watched her bend over to reach into the console, the full globes of her ass strained against the leather of her skirt. He hissed with appreciation, and then released it in a low whistle. Jesus, look at those legs. A mile long. The hem of her skirt picked up the shadows cast by the parking lot lighting. She stood up on her toes a bit as she rummaged…
    Another horn honked.
    Liam chuckled. Yep. First pissed off at the idiot female fixing her clothes in the middle of the parking lot and now he was trapped by his body’s reaction to…his brain kept returning to the possibilities hidden by that skirt. A thong? Maybe some lacy hipsters. Or better yet….nothing to hide that pretty pussy from his hungry gaze and hands.
    The driver really laid into it this time. Liam pulled into a space three down from the Camaro and hustled to get out. He wanted to talk to her. Heck, it wasn’t every day you bumped into your dream girl, or at least the physical version of her. Maybe he could catch her before she got into the restaurant.
    She scurried now, clearly in a hurry—probably to meet a date, he figured. The door to the restaurant began to swing shut. He ran to grab it just before it closed on her. Even if she was meeting somebody else, this compulsion urged him on. He must speak to her. Would her voice be low and gravelly? Or sweet, soft… He shook his head. Already the echo of her cries in the throes of passion rattled around his mind. What kind of creep did this make him? She drove a hot car and lived in a body that cried for sin and she probably didn’t want him pestering her for her name.
    She stood at the reception desk, pointing into the dim environs of the dining room. Her shirt slipped down her shoulder to expose creamy skin. The host nodded and started to lead her down the steps into the dining area.
    “ Uhh …” His voice shook. Liam cleared his throat and tried again. “Excuse me.”
    The girl and the host paused, turned to him and waited.
    For the barest instant, he fought the urge to stare at his toes. But something in her dark brown eyes drew him up to his full height. “I hoped I could speak to you for a moment?” There. That didn’t sound too awkward.
    The host looked back and forth between him and the girl and returned to his desk. She waited, with her head up and a firmed jaw. She probably figured he wanted to chew her out for holding traffic up.
    Liam stopped at the top of the stairs; she stood on the one just below. Even so, her head came to the middle of his chest. He grinned. Her scent, something spicy and unique, wrapped its way around his mind. The usual greetings stumbled over one another and stuck in his throat. After a few attempts he shrugged, smiled and asked, “Can I talk to you?”
    She narrowed her eyes. “You just asked that.”
    Ah, yeah, he did. “Well, more like over there.” He pointed toward the small hallway that led to the restrooms.
    She peered into the shadows, sized him up and then shook her head. “If you wanna call me a bitch for tripping in the parking lot, go ahead.”
    Just like that. Blunt. In your face. Her challenge pumped up his heartbeat another notch, and also his cock. Damn, but she really revved his engine. Unable to suppress the impulse, he ran his finger up her arm, and reveled in victory as she shivered. “I’d rather do it in private, if you wouldn’t mind.”
     
    * * * *
    Bernie’s mouth went dry. Bumps broke out across her skin. She took a breath, but it caught in the back of her throat. She