by Vivien Vale
“You don’t even know me.” I giggle, toying with him as we banter back and forth.
“There’s always time for that,” he says casually.
“Yeah…I suppose you’re right,” I say and pace the floor of my apartment because I’m fucking stir-crazy now, and the adrenaline pumping through my veins is giving me enough of a turbo charge to turn into Wonder Woman at this point.
I’m thankful he still sounds approachable and enthusiastic.
“Do you think that we could, like, you know, get to know each other first before we decide on anything too, um, serious?” Like knocking me up?
I pray with every fiber of my being that he’ll agree to this suggestion.
“Sure,” he responds. “Absolutely. That sounds fair and reasonable to me.”
“Great,” I say and exhale a year’s worth of pent up sexual frustration and tension.
“So, when is the beautiful Rose Flower free?” Daniel asks.
Rose Flower? Well, that’s a new one…
I pretend to be glancing at an invisible, nonexistent calendar. The sooner the better, honestly, but I can’t exactly admit that to him.
“Let’s see here…” I trail off. “How about this weekend? Will that work for you?”
“It sure will,” he replies with another of those sexy as fuck chuckles. “What’s your address? I can have a car pick you up.”
“Really?” I don’t know why I should sound so surprised. He’s a ridiculously rich guy, after all.
I give him my address, and we say goodbye, the usual polite endings to a phone call where you tell someone you can’t wait to see them and blah, blah, blah.
When I hang up, my heart is racing with excitement. I can’t believe I just did that. I’m never this bold.
I’m seriously going on a date with a guy who could be a potential sperm donor? This is straight out of some movie where the heroine has some harebrained idea that ends in ridiculous shenanigans.
I mean, let’s be real, I’m probably not going to let some random stranger knock me up. But maybe I’ll have fun with Daniel. Maybe I’ll end up having at least some of my life goals fulfilled.
We’ll see.
Daniel
This has to be my eight-trillionth time to check my gold wrist-watch―a Rolex, of course, and a vintage one at that―and yes, I bought the present for myself after scoring a major―and I’m talking major―business deal with a marketing firm for my hotels.
I must be crazy for agreeing to this meeting―uh, I mean dinner―with the beautiful and charming Rose Makin. I was actually a bit surprised she called me. I mean, yeah, I’d hoped she would, but even I have to admit the circumstances were pretty outrageous.
Oh, what the hell. She’s cute, and I’m horny.
I’m not one to shy away from my primal instincts, and she’s a tasty dish I can’t wait to taste later on, if I’m successful in seducing her.
I’m not a jerk or a womanizer. Let me set the record straight. I just fucking love the female body: the curves, the softness, the fleshy pink places between a ripe woman’s legs…
Fuck.
Speaking of tantalizing curves, my date for the evening is walking, or should I say strutting, into the restaurant. She’s moving effortlessly, with deliciously swinging hips and voluptuous cleavage that leaves little to my wild and vivid imagination.
Fuck, I have to shift uncomfortably in my seat and picture my grandmother just so I can hide the massive throbbing hard-on that’s already bulging in my pants. The last thing I want to do is freak her out and send her running for the bustling Manhattan streets once she meets the creep with a boner poking out in plain sight.
Before she arrives at the table, let me just set the scene here.
We agreed to meet up at one of the exclusive restaurants in one of my finest, and most luxurious hotels in all of the tri-state area, possibly in the world.
I’ve arranged a private dinner. I’m talking white tablecloths with white candles flickering in the center, rose petals scattered romantically (and blissfully fragrantly, I might add) all over the table.
I have an order for the most expensive bottle of champagne to be sent to the table as soon Rose walks over here. I stand to greet her, pasting on one of my sexiest smiles, the one that does it every time. She finally reaches me, and I try to tame my wildly beating heart.
What the fuck is that about? I always, I mean I always keep my cool, and I always have the upper hand with women. But there’s something about Rose…
I swallow hard and take a deep breath. Fuck, she looks amazing―and I plan to tell her so, over and over again, until she’s putty in my hands. I mean, I’m still not totally sure about this whole baby thing, but at the very least, I’m going to enjoy this date with her.
She’s wearing a peach-colored tube dress that accentuates her fucking gorgeous cinnamon-colored eyes.
Her hair is long, wavy, and sandy blonde, flowing halfway down her back.
As I lean in to give her a hug, I notice her hair smells like coconuts―but not before I intentionally press my chest against her overflowingly ample tits first.
Yeah, yeah, I know. But I can’t fucking help it.
“Thank you for joining me tonight,” I grin as I pull her chair out for her with a flourish.
“Wow, aren’t you the proper gentleman?” She laughs lightly, and I hope that gesture’s a score of brownie points in my favor.
Her voice is like honey dripping all over me on a tropical oasis in the middle of the Caribbean.
I’m not in love, but I’m sure as fuck climbing the Mount Everest of lust.
I grin at her as I hold my tie to my chest while taking a seat across from her.
She takes her napkin from the table and places it delicately in her lap, raising her eyebrows, her eyes shining with a hint of naughtiness.
Perfect.
“Rose, I think you’re in for a treat you’d never expect to get from here. This is one of my favorite restaurants.”
“Oh?” She raises her eyebrow in mischief. “Well, please, sir, enlighten me. I just love juicy dishes.”
The irony of this situation is that I’m captivated by the two juicy dishes on her chest that are practically fucking spilling out of her dress.
The secret I want to disclose to her is the fact that I want to rest my head on her pillow-like tits, but instead, I flash my perfect white teeth and lay on the charm nice and thick.
I lean over the table.
“Well, first of all…might I tell you how fucking stunning you look tonight.”
Then I whistle, and slap the table for effect, making her giggle.
“I’m talking smoking hot.”
“Thank you,” she says as the waiter pours our drinks. “You sure know how to make a girl blush.”
She’s a total mystery. An intriguing mixture of sweet shyness and sassy boldness. My goal of the night is, obviously, to lower her inhibitions as quickly as possible. Having said that, I still want her to trust me, and I know we have to work up to that by building a solid foundation.
“I also have a surprise for you,” I toss her a friendly wink.
Her face lights up. “I always love a good surprise.”
“Well…” I begin as she waits patiently for the kicker. “So, as you know, I heard you and your girlfriends talking about the shower in the tea room, and―”
“You mean you were eavesdropping on our conversation,” she teases, and bites her lip playfully.
Fuck, that’s sexy.
“Hey now.” I feign offense. “You ladies were a bunch of clucking hens. The whole restaurant could hear you.”
“By the way, clucking hens is our official and formal name,” she jokes in return.
I laugh. Wow, I’m having fun with this one. She’s keeping me way more interested already than the women I normally date.
I might be in deep shit…
But as far as I’m concerned, any chance to get pussy is a win in my book.
Han
g on there, calm down. Don’t worry, I’m not a fucking maniac. I know how to be respectful of women, which leads me to my next point.
“Anyway,” I take a sip of my champagne, and aim to entice her. “Do you remember when your friends were talking about how they were having intense cravings?”
Rose rolls her eyes with a grin. “How could I forget?”
“Well…” I pause for effect. “I took the liberty of ordering lavish versions of those foods, and they should be arriving at the table any moment now.”
Her face changes from shock, to disbelief, to wonderment, and then finally the spinning wheel lands on immense pleasure.
“Are you kidding me? Like what sort of lavish treats?”
I give her a smug smile, fucking proud of myself for coming up with this idea. If I’m going to potentially woo her as the woman who’s going to give me an heir, I’m going to show her exactly what I have to offer.
“For starters,” I continue, “a gold leaf milkshake is on your menu.”
Rose squeals like a tween girl. “I’m so excited.”
“Then, I believe fried pickles will be coming your way, too, with a fantastic spicy Dijon glaze to dip them in.”
“Oh, wow.” Rose raises her eyebrows. “Sounds fancy.”
“Look around you,” I tease and gesture to the fine dining establishment.
“Touché,” she says with a laugh.
A few minutes later, our food arrives, and I watch as Rose’s eyes become as big as the platters adorning the table.
“This is, um…quite possibly the greatest lengths I’ve ever seen a guy go to in order to impress a woman,” she says and takes a nibble from the bowl of exotic French fries.
“I take a great deal of satisfaction in making sure any date of mine feels well cared for.”
“I can see that,” she laughs. “Regular pregnancy cravings can eat their hearts out.”
She scoops up a pickle and gobbles it up.
I have a twinkle in my eye as I watch her sample food from the platters. I admire a woman who isn’t afraid to eat on her first date.
And fuck. She sure is cute as hell.
“You know,” she says with a smirk, “I had to check you out to make sure you aren’t a serial killer.”
I explode into laughter. Fuck, this girl is too much.
“I understand. I had to make sure you aren’t going to cut off my balls and wear my scrotum over your face like a mask, either.”
Rose shivers in response, and to my genuine relief, looks completely repulsed.
“Um, that’s fucking disgusting,” she tells me. “I want to enjoy this delicious food you were so kind to order me.”
I drink her in, every ounce of her astounding beauty. I’m already intoxicated, but not by the champagne. This girl sitting across from me is making my head spin in the best ways possible.
“Well, I wouldn’t put it past one of your crazy ex-girlfriends.” She smirks.
“Let’s call them extremely creative fans,” I laugh in response.
“There are quite a few.”
She sips on her champagne and gives me a sultry glance over the rim of her glass that fucking floors me. I’m melting under the spell of her cinnamon eyes.
Rose dabs her lips with a napkin and clears her throat, a coating of seriousness waxing over her face.
“I have to admit,” she begins, “I know this is kind of crazy. But in my situation, time is of the essence. I don’t want to waste either of our time here.”
I swallow a bite of food and nod, glad that she’s the first one bringing the pressing matter to a head.
“However,” she gestures animatedly, waving around her slender fingers adorned with freshly manicured French tips. “This is all happening so fast. You still agree that we should get to know each other a little better first before making any decisions…right?”
She gives me a sheepish glance as if she hates to draw attention to the elephant in the room, but I know the topic must be brushed.
“Yes, of course.” I flash her an honest smile. “We need to make sure we’re a compatible match.”
Although I enjoy eyeing her sexy body and feel attracted to her physically, I still need to scratch off the task of making sure she doesn’t proudly wear the title of ‘insane bitch.’
“We don’t know each other yet.” I smile and add to reassure her further. “In time, we will.”
“Thank you.”
Her shoulders visibly relax with reprieve as she nods and smiles graciously. “I have to ask you, though, why are you even considering this?”
I shift in my seat, wondering how much to tell her. I decide I might as well go all in.
“Well, honestly, I need an heir for my companies. And I’ve had a hard time in that department.”
Her eyebrows practically reach her hairline. “Um, according to the internet, there are plenty of people out there more than happy to help you out.”
I grimace. “Yes, and as you so nicely pointed out, none of the women I’ve dated have had much going for them in the sanity department.”
“So, why me? You don’t even know me. I could be just as crazy.”
She’s a breath of fresh air so far, being so upfront about everything.
“Let’s just say you need something, I need something. It’s business. And I think you might just make a great business partner.”
Yeah, it’s a cold way to put a damper on our flirtation, but I need more time to make sure that she’s the real deal, not another one of the women out to get a piece of me. Even though if this pans out, she’s going to get a very real piece of me.
“It’s better to play our cards right and exercise patience,” I continue. “We don’t want to get down the road with a baby—if it gets to that—and realize we’re polar opposites.”
“That’s very true,” she nods in agreement, adding, “I can absolutely live with that and agree one-hundred percent.”
“I have an excellent starting point,” I tell her. “Would you like to go out on an official date with me sometime next week?”
She chuckles. “Wow. If this isn’t a true first date, and you consider this just a ‘meeting’ of sorts, then I cannot wait to see what tricks you have up your sleeve next week.”
I admire her honesty.
“So, is that a yes?” I grin, not quite sure why I’m holding my breath―but I am just the same.
“Yes.” She nods enthusiastically. “It’s a yes.”
“Great.”
I clap my hands together because I’m really fucking pleased at how the evening is going so far. “I have some things I need to wrap up in the office next week, and I’ll have to check my calendar before I can pin down a date. Once I have one, I’ll give you a call. Does that sound fair?”
“Very reasonable. I’ll check my schedule as well in the meantime, and we can iron out the details later.”
We order dessert, but I have my own plans for a treat, and it involves every drop of Rose. I ask her what she has planned for the rest of the evening as we walk out to the car.
“I’d like to offer to take you home,” I say.
“That’s sweet of you, but I can take a cab.”
Her eyes dart around the busy Manhattan intersection as she folds her arms across her chest.
I know that look. She’s feeling awkward and uncomfortable, not sure how to act now that we are supposed to be parting ways. I have a better idea.
“It’s really no trouble at all,” I say, laying it on thick with yet another wink and grin. “You are the only date I booked for tonight.” I attempt to lighten the mood with a joke.
It works, and she agrees, nodding her head and smiling.
“Okay, fine. You can take me home. Let’s just hope you don’t turn out to be a serial killer after all.”
We climb into my car and I watch as her dress rides up her thighs, exposing some tantalizing and fucking delicious-looking flesh.
Fuck, I want a taste of that.
I g
rin at her. “Of course, it’s what a gentleman would do.”
Gentleman, indeed. I climb in behind her, forcing myself to be that gentleman.
At least for tonight.
Rose
“This one is a little slutty. Definitely go with it.”
My cousin Jenna holds up a backless black dress with a plunging neckline. She’s always one to say what she wants, and she has no filter, like ever, when it comes to her open and brutal honesty.
I just laugh and shake my head. “God, Jenna, he’s going to think I’m a hooker.”
Jenna playfully hits my arm. “Girl, stop it. Live a little. At least somebody should.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I plop down on the edge of the bed while Jenna continues to rifle through my closet.
“Come on,” Jenna gives me a blunt stare. “Let’s face it, these stretch marks aren’t going to get me anywhere.”
“You’re happily married,” I remind her. “With a beautiful son named Jayden who’s sleeping in the next room.”
“Whatever.” Jenna rolls her eyes, and I just have to laugh. She’s crazy. I know she loves motherhood; she’s just playing around.
Oh, yeah… she’s the only person I’ve told so far about Daniel and our little ‘arrangement’―if you can even call it that―in it’s still budding stage.
Jenna and Jayden are spending the night at my place while her husband is out of the country at a business conference.
Jenna is always going to have my back and be supportive, no matter what. She’s my safety net, and I know she’ll clock a guy right between the eyes if he stands in the way of my happiness.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” She turns to give me a look as if to say she doesn’t mean any harm by the statement, but she doesn’t want me to recklessly endanger myself, either.
“Why?” I laugh, teasing her. “Let me guess, you’ve heard better?”
She smirks. “Yeah…I have to admit, I have. You’re supposed to be the rational one.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I assure her as I graze my fingers over the soft throw pillow on the bed. “I have everything under control.”