“That’s very exotic. I bet they have great tans,” I said and smiled as she looked over her shoulder at me. A quick flash in her eye said she was unsure about me following so close, but she didn’t step away. I instantly knew she’d grown up in a home where she was told to please those around her. She was the type that would apologize for everything she said or did that possibly could’ve offended you. She was also the type that would let me push every inappropriate boundary because she hoped to hear ‘good girl’ and feel a pat on the head.

She giggled as she stopped at the booth in the far corner. “Yes, they do. I’d love to go to someplace like that. Here you go, best seat in the house.”

I scooted across the wide, worn bench and smiled again, making sure my dimple showed. A flirtatious smile was proper.

“Thanks, this is perfect,” I said. A blush crept across her cheeks, and a little rush of triumph raced through my system. “It’s okay. I don’t need the menu. I already know what I’d like.”

She paused before setting the menu down, but it was long enough for me to catch what she was wearing underneath. She had on a white lace bra hidden behind her work blouse. It would be interesting to know if she’d still smile if I cut her nipples off and turned that pretty bit of lace all red.

“Well, alright then, what can I get ya?”

She didn’t pull out a notepad, and I smirked. She didn’t think she needed one. But if she screwed up my order, I would find her, and there would be no smiling if that meeting needed to happen.

“Your trucker’s special, eggs scrambled, bacon crisp, and a side of your blueberry waffles, lots of whip cream with a coffee, black.”

“A man that knows what he likes. Comin’ right up.”

She turned and walked away, and I watched her pert ass bounce under the simple uniform skirt. If she knew how much that statement resonated with me. Right now, I wanted to carve up her slender back. I had a new design that was begging to be put on a back and ass like hers.

There was a local paper on the table, and I picked it up and began to read about the daily gossip. Knowing which politician was openly lying today, who decided to shoot who, or who was seeking something in the classifieds was great information for me. I loved the classifieds. I’d found more than one unwitting individual through the small squares in the back of a paper. Words like ‘must sell’ and ‘liquidation,’ as well as ‘estate sale,’ always piqued my interest.

“Here you go,” the waitress said as she returned with my food and coffee. “If you need anything else, just let me know.”