“You’ll allow it; in fact, you’ll be begging for it.”
I love it when a man knows what he wants but can’t help my eyes rolling at his over confidence. The waiter sets a generous serving of cheesecake between us, topped with cherries and chocolate cake crumbles. It looks divine. I’m starving, and when my stomach growls I go to swipe a little drop of cherry topping with my finger.
Thaddaeus’ hand darts out, snatching mine before it makes it to the expertly decorated chocolate swirls on the plate. His grip’s strong and controlling, but not punishing. He’s the only man I’ve met that can be forceful but not hurt me. If anything, his movement makes the heat in my belly flare up another notch. I like this side of him. I enjoy pushing him.
Gasping quietly, my eyes fly to his stormy irises and hold his stare as he moves my hand until he can dip my finger into the dessert. Scooping up a chunk on my finger, he holds fast, leaning over and bringing the sweet treat to his mouth.
I’m pretty sure I’d fall out of my chair if he wasn’t holding me so tightly. The man makes me freaking melt.
“Not so fast, my Bella. Manners.” He tsks and places my finger inside his warm, wet mouth. His tongue swirls around my fingertip, my nipples hardening at the amazing sensations his tongue’s inflicting. He sucks for a moment before drawing my hand away, pausing briefly to swipe his tongue up the side of it.
My throat’s grown dry again, and at this rate, I’m going to be peeing every hour from having to chug copious amounts of water to keep up with him. Fuck me, he’s hot. No, sinful is a better word for him.
As he licks my finger, my legs clamp closed, my core nearly vibrating as I deftly watch him kiss my finger. It’s sexy as fuck. It’s naughty and I want his tongue to lick me like that everywhere.
“Now that I’ve tested it, you may have a bite.” He hands me a small dessert fork loaded with a generous sized bite and I count silently to ten so I don’t attack the sugary piece of heaven, wanting to know what his mouth tastes like right now. I wish he’d just lean over and let me sample it from his tongue.
“Mmmmm.” Moaning, the sweet decadence slides over my taste buds, nearly orgasmic in itself.
This is what he was just licking off me. This is what his mouth tastes like this very moment, and shit if I don’t want that sinful set of lips on mine right now. Imagining his tongue tangling with mine has me groaning while my eyes stay tightly closed. I’ve never been so wanton and out of control of my sexuality before him, but Thaddaeus has complete control of everything tonight. I hope he doesn’t realize that or I could be naked on this table before the evening’s over.
Would that be such a bad thing, though?
“Grace, stop it.”
“Hm?” My eyebrow shoots up as I chew slowly, swiping my tongue over my lips and enjoying each and every flavor of the cheesecake.
“You, moaning over that,” he gestures to the plate between us, “has me wanting you right here. I’m not a man of self-control. I suggest you stop it before I smear it over you and eat it all myself.”
Add mind reader to his list of qualities. He reads me so easily and it’s unnerving. This is a man that I won’t be able to fool with anything or push around. This man is alpha to the fullest power.
His threat shuts me up instantly. I want it, boy do I want it, but not in the middle of a restaurant and I have a feeling he’s just crazy enough to hold up his warning.
He throws the scotch back in one large gulp and signals for the waiter again. His eyes have flames dancing in them as his nostrils flare, staring me down, hungry with his own need.
“Sir?”
“Another scotch and bring us whatever the chef’s making this evening. Make sure it doesn’t have onions.”
“Yes, sir, right away.”
“I thought we were having dessert for now?”
“We need to hurry up and eat so we can get out of here.”
“Already? But we just got here.”
His jaw clenches and flexes as he looks me over, taking a moment longer to gaze at my breasts. They’re swollen from the pheromones churning between us, making me feel naked under his observation. “Yes, but after that little taste, I can’t stop wanting you and I know you wouldn’t be keen on me taking you over the table. Or would you, Bella? I can make that happen, you know; same with your office.”
“You can’t just say stuff like that!”
“Why not?”
“Because, you don’t just come out and mention things like that on your first date with someone.”
“I say whatever I want. And, I mean what I say. Would you prefer if I lied or held back?”
“Well no, but yes, I mean … shit. Most people fib or tone it down for a while in the beginning.”
“I’m not most people, Grace; you haven’t caught on to that yet?”
“I’ve noticed, believe me.”
“Then it shouldn’t surprise you in the least bit. This doesn’t feel as if it were our first. We’re already past that. I don’t screw off when it comes to something that I want. And let me make myself very clear here; I want you. I’m not one to pussyfoot around.”
I keep my thoughts to myself and sip the red wine. It’s crisp and delicious, pairing wonderfully with the sweetness from the cheesecake. I was starving when we got here, but Thaddaeus’ words have my heart racing and my stomach doing cartwheels. His proclamation makes sense though. After the last week and a half, I feel like we’re past the first date jitters as well. At this point, he wants me to be his, and I want to be. It’s strange, though How can you feel connected and want someone so badly when you hardly know them? It’s almost on a primal level, our bodies seeking each other out. He’s a headstrong male and I’m a woman in her prime. It’s basic biology, our being drawn to one another.
Our food should be out soon and the only other thing on my mind besides him eating cake off my body is the conversation we’d had about him sharing the meanings of each gift with me. That was supposed to be the initial purpose of us having dinner anyhow. Should I bring it up?
The waiter sets a basket of fresh rolls on the table wrapped in a heavy towel to keep them warm and brings Thaddaeus a new scotch. “More wine, miss?”
“No, thank you.”
“Is it not to your liking? I can bring another selection for you to sample.”
“It’s amazing, but I’d rather wait for dinner.” It’s probably the most delicious glass of red I’ve ever had. If I were at home, I’d be pouring a hefty serving, but around this domineering man, I need as many of my wits about me as possible. I can barely keep up with him while sober; I can only imagine it in a wine daze.
“Very good then, I’ll get your entrees now.”
The man’s like a magician, appearing with food left and right. The perks no doubt of having a chef here who’s only worry is to prepare our dishes and no one else’s. No wonder this place gets booked out completely.
Mere moments later, it seems, and he’s back with our plates. Medium-sized, white square dishes all understated so the focus is on the food itself. Strategically arranged in the middle is a small salad made up mostly of spinach and other vegetables cut into thin spirals and tossed in a light lemony dressing. For being a salad, it looks delightful and the lemon smell reminds me of sweet lemon cookies coated in powdered sugar. God, I could eat an entire box of those cookies.
Taking a few bites, I wash it down with my red and softly clear my throat.
“So, you had mentioned that the gifts you sent—which I loved, by the way—each had a particular meaning. Would you mind sharing them with me?”
He finishes his own bite, wiping his already clean mouth with his linen napkin and places it beside his dish before sitting back in his seat. “They do. I notice you wore your bracelet too.” He glances to my wrist and I smile, nodding.
“Yes, it’s exquisite.”
His mouth quirks into a slight smirk, his eyes light at my appreciation. It happens each time I praise something that has to do with him.
I’m beginning to believe that Kaleigh’s wrong about him never smiling. If anything, I’d bet that Joker got his name from wearing a smirk frequently. He may not share it with the world, but he doesn’t seem to mind showing it off to me.
“I’m glad you approve. The first gift was simply because I wanted you to have something beautiful. I’d seen you that day at the restaurant and your beauty was enrapturing. I couldn’t get you out of my mind and I had to do something about it, had to figure out a way to show you even a hint of the stunning perfection I’d witnessed.”
Holy shit! I was not expecting an answer like that. He’s going to earn some serious brownie points already. “Wow, thank you! They were my favorite colors, too; did you know that?”
“No. I picked them because of what you were wearing; you made those colors stand out.”
I made them stand out, not the other way around. Jesus Christ, this man. Finishing the small portion of salad remaining, I press on. “And the purse?”
“Ah, the sapphire Chanel bag. That one was easy too. I wanted to spoil you and show you that I plan to spoil you in the future as well.”
“Call me spoiled, but not rotten, I promise.” My smile’s wide, but I can’t help it; he just admitted to me that he thinks I’m stunning and he wants to spoil me. He must hide dead people in his walls or something to say such perfect things like that.
The server collects our empty plates and brings us fresh ice water.
Without skipping a beat, he continues. “And the third, the strawberry-cream cheese muffins. They’re my favorite. An uncle of mine owns the bakery they’re from and I wanted to send you a treat. The meaning behind them is that I wanted to feed you, to break bread and let you know that you will never go hungry on my watch.”
Out of the past few compliments, this explanation starts to get me choked up. Promising to feed someone has nothing to do with being materialistic. It’s about providing a basic need that another human being needs to survive. His words come out earnestly, and the fact that he wanted to break bread with me, shows that he wants a relationship, not some quick tussle. You break bread with friends, family, loved ones. He wants that with me?
I take a gulp of my wine, cause let’s face it, a sip isn’t going to do after that. “They were delicious and very thoughtful.” I caught Keisha trying to sneak out with the basket at the end of the day too. She loved them as much as I did.
“I’m glad you enjoyed them.” He copies me, taking a hefty gulp of his scotch.
Our next course is delivered, the aromas of rosemary and garlic with lobster and filet mignon making my mouth water as the dishes are set in front of us.
“This looks wonderful.”
There’s a generous sized lobster with six ounces of perfectly grilled meat. Off to the side is bright green broccoli and a few baby red potatoes. It’s the last thing I’d expect to be served. I was thinking snails or something crazy. This is perfect. I love it all. “Wow,” I can’t help but mumble as I cut into the meat, and it’s so tender I could probably use my fork alone. It was definitely marinated in something to make it that way and cooked to perfection.
“I love the food here.”
“I can see why.” I chew and swallow a bite, ready to hear more. “What about the music box?”
“Ah, the fourth gift,” he replies, his gaze running over me as I smile, excited to hear about it.
“Its purpose was to enrich your life in some small way.”
“The colors were so vibrant and it came from Italy?”
“This whole courting process is something that my grandfather insists on. I put a lot of thought into it all and I wanted you to have something authentic from the country that my family’s from. It’s also an Italian gift that’s given frequently when courting a woman. I picked the blue because it reminded me of your sapphires. I had it hand made because you deserve the best.”
At this rate my panties will be sliding down my legs on their own. How on earth did a man like this come into my life? I must’ve done something right in another life, that’s for damn sure.
“And the song?”
“You know what I am.”
“A very generous man?”
“A very dangerous one.”
Hearing it come directly from his mouth has me swallowing a bit roughly, so I toss back a decent sized drink of my wine. I need something to dull the implications of his last statement. So, he’s not perfect after all, but when it comes down to it, who is? I’m not; I’m far from it.
“Does that bother you? Knowing that people fear me?”
“In some ways, yes.”
“I sense a ‘but’ with that statement.”
“But I’m not frightened of you.”
“No? Not even after I had you slammed up against a building in a dark alleyway? I remember hearing you cry and feeling your pulse go out of control when my nose grazed the skin over your artery.”
Why’s he being this way suddenly? Does he want me to fear him? He’s going to ruin an amazing evening quickly talking about this.
“You weren’t very kind that night. Had I known it was you—”
He interrupts, his eyes growing hard. “You would’ve what? Fought me? Please,” he scoffs. “You couldn’t move, I didn’t allow it. You were careless.”
“I was just walking home,” I say defensively, not sure if I should be pissed off or sad with his sudden mood change, “What’s your deal with it?”
“My deal? Shocking, but I’d like to have the actual chance to spend time with you, but as I stated prior, I’m not a very good man. There are plenty of people who want me dead or anything I care about taken from me.”
“And you care about me?”
“It’s soon, but yes. I find myself thinking about you daily and imagining what it’s like to lay next to you at night. Your honesty is refreshing. Your fearlessness is sexy, but also a touch naïve. If I want you in my life, then I have to teach you to be more vigilant.”
I don’t know what to say. He’s mean and then says sweet things, just like that night. He was so rough and cold, and then he sent me something to protect myself with the next day, the fifth day of our courtship.
“So, the knife?”
“It was for protection. I will always protect you. That I promise.”
“What about yourself?”
He shrugs. “One day, I hope, if it ever came down to it, you’d decide to protect me, if necessary. Don’t fret over it though; I have my boys if we need them. My driver you met, being one of them.”
I don’t want to think about anyone hurting him. It’s so strange to grow attached to someone already and be worried for their safety. He has real threats. If he’s indeed that bad, who knows the types of people he deals with. Maybe it’s a good thing I’ve decided to carry the knife on me at all times now.
Would I protect him if it came down to it? I don’t think I’d be much help, but I would do my best to not let someone hurt him. Would I put my life in front of his? Something inside says he’d do it for me, but I’m not quite there yet. That sounds horrible and shallow, but it’s the truth, self-preservation and all that.
“I don’t know if I’d be much help.” And suddenly that thought has me wanting to change that. I want to be able to protect him if needed.
“Tell me, if someone were to try and kill me, and you had a gun in your hand … would you shoot them to save me?”
“Of course,” I answer immediately, barely thinking of any repercussions that could come from it. I’d do the same for myself or any of my friends if their life was in danger. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean that I’m weak. It just means I love a little more than some and have a few more curves. The need to protect and survive still fills my veins.
“That’s all that I need to know then.” He lifts my hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to my palm. It tickles and ignites a new tirade of flutters in my stomach. His lips are soft, and the scruff from his five o’clock shadow scratches lightly against my skin
. Thoughts of that feeling touching me everywhere fill my head.
We finish our filet and lobster, momentarily making small talk while the server clears away the empty plates and brings us fresh drinks. I know we’ve been here for at least an hour’s time, but I couldn’t care less. The romantic atmosphere from the low lighting, the cool, crisp wine, and delicious food has me wanting to stay longer. My body’s content and with Thaddaeus as my date, my mind has stayed enraptured with him.
“We should go soon, unless you’d like more dessert?”
“The cheesecake was divine, but I’m too full right now.”
“I’ll get some to take with us then.”
“That would be amazing.”
Smiling, I finish off the new glass of wine and collect my things. Thaddaeus gets a full cheesecake to go, and when I laugh about it, he plays it off that his friends will eat whatever we don’t. I was secretly hoping he’d hold true to his earlier promise and was getting the cake so he could eat more of it later—off me.
I loved the wine so much, the server sent me home with a bottle of that as well. We never received a bill on our way out; they must really like my date or something …
Live, Love, Laugh.If that doesn’t work,Load, Aim, and Fire.
- @theclassypeople
We arrive at Grace’s apartment, and I’m taken off guard when she invites me up. I was trying to keep dinner short so she wasn’t too uncomfortable, it being our first official date and all. The scotch was going down slightly too smoothly around her. Generally, I find it hard to trust people, even familia, but she makes it easy. I don’t know what it is about her that causes me to relax and feel as if I can tell her anything. It’s dangerous and before she becomes mine completely, I need to watch what comes out of my mouth.
She sets the cheesecake in the fridge and the wine on the kitchen counter. Her place is neat and tidy, no clutter. I prefer my house be kept the same, I’m glad to see we have more than sex appeal in common.
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