Bradley sighs. “My father still doesn’t know, and I doubt I’ll ever tell him. Not only do I believe that he wouldn’t handle it well, I’ve learned that I shouldn’t trust him with any part of my life. I understand why it’s tempting to keep that to yourself. Now we need to figure out who knows and who cares enough to hurt Jamal.”
“Easier said than done,” I say as I turn from the doorway.
“Is there a hot lady out there or something?” Dad asks as he steps up behind us.
“You’re married,” I remind him.
“I know. Your mother is bringing me a notebook I forgot at home. So that’s why I was asking.”
“Yeah… I’m definitely never going to tell you that my ‘hot’ mom is walking up to the station,” I say as I pat him on the back.
“That’s understandable,” he says.
“Bradley, please, let’s go.”
Dad’s not done with us, though. “Howell, if you stay, I have a lot of embarrassing secrets about Clyde.”
Bradley stops walking so quickly that I slam into his back. Why I was so close, I may never know. Maybe I thought that if I crawled onto his back and hung on, he’d forget about me and just take me home.
“Don’t listen to him,” I whisper in his ear.
“Lots of stories,” Dad promises.
“He’s like the devil. Do you want to go with the devil?” I ask, not bothering to back up from where I’m basically pressed against his back. I do keep my groin away from him because I don’t want to be a total perv.
Bradley looks back at my dad. “But… but he has fun stories about you.”
“Wouldn’t you rather make your own impression of me?”
“I don’t know… I honestly have never loved a story as much as the one about you giving birth to a cat.”
“Did I tell you about the one where he was naked?” Dad asks.
That spins Bradley around, but I put my arms out to body block him. “Fight it. Please. You can do it.”
Bradley looks down at me as my father continues to try and ruin my life from behind me.
“If you go with him, I’m taking someone else out tomorrow,” I say.
Bradley looks aghast. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would. Someone hot too… like smoking hot. Like… so hot I would look like larva compared to them.”
“Oh wow. Do you even know anyone that hot?” he asks.
“You.”
He starts laughing. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant, Clyde just said the world’s cutest pick-up line, and now I just have to go with him.”
“Never go with a man because you pity him,” Dad says, but Bradley turns around and lets me usher him away.
That was much closer than I could ever have imagined. My father nearly spilled more horrible secrets to him.
“Hold on… you took your clothes off and streaked through someone’s wedding rehearsal?” he asks as he stares down at his phone.
“Oh my god. Is my father texting you?” I ask in disbelief.
“He sent me a picture! I have a picture of it!” Bradley is nearly crying as he shoves the picture of a three-year-old me into my face.
“Did he tell you that he was the one who took my clothes off and asked me to run through the rehearsal? He said it was horribly boring and he would get me a kitten if I did it,” I say. “You should never believe that man. And please, please delete that.”
“But… look how cute you are!”
“Shhh, give me your phone, and it’ll all be over quickly.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“Then I can’t promise it won’t hurt.”
“Sounds kinky,” he jokes.
Interesting…
Chapter Nine
Inks and I are hovering at the door waiting for Bradley. I told him I’d pick him up, but he assured me that he was already in town and wouldn’t mind driving to my house. As he pulls into the driveway astride his death machine, I suddenly realize just how sexy it is, especially now that I’m aware I don’t have to get on it.
I never knew I had a passion for a man on a bike, but my interest is skyrocketing. It’s probably just because it’s Bradley, and whenever something has to do with Bradley, it suddenly becomes very sexy. He could literally be riding a toddler’s tricycle into the driveway and I’d be having hot flashes from sexy overload. I need my brain checked.
He parks the bike and takes off his helmet as I give Inks a scratch and set him on the ground. Then I open the door and head out to meet him. He gives me a smile the moment he sees me.
“I brought your favorite new hobby,” he says as he waves to the bike.
“Only if you’re willing to pose on it or something.”
He snorts. “Yeah, I don’t see that happening in the near future. You look very nice, especially the little chest fluff you’re trying out,” he says as he runs his fingers over my chest. I look down and realize that I’m covered in white cat hair.
“Does it turn you on?” I ask.
He grins at me. “I’ve never been turned on more.”
“Thanks, because all of my clothes look like this. Even if I pull them straight out of the dryer and hang them up, they’ll be covered in cat hair. It’s his superpower.”
“I wish I had that superpower.”
“The ability to leave your hair everywhere?” I ask.
He laughs. “Depends. Does it turn you on?”
I start laughing, fully aware that I’ll laugh at anything he says as long as he’s the one saying it. His words are like music to my ears.
“Want to take the bike again?” he teases.
“That’s literally the stupidest thing anyone has ever asked me,” I say. “I have anxiety just from seeing it.”
“Aw, what would make it better?”
“I don’t know. Maybe chocolate.”
“I’ll get you all the chocolate you want.”
“Deal,” I say as we head out to my car.
“So… where are we eating?” he asks as we get inside.
I grin at him because I’m going to blow his mind when he realizes where we’re going. He’s going to fall in love with me on the spot and realize that there’s no one better for him than me, besides the thousands of other people who are richer, nicer, and probably don’t show up to a date coated in cat hair.
“I look at your face and all I feel is fear and terror,” he says, which makes me start laughing.
“Me?” I ask, reeking of innocence.
“Yes! I ask where we’re eating, and you get this… look on your face. I’m not sure if we’re headed to Pizza Hut or some… some… I can’t even come up with something crazy enough to explain the look on your face.”
I start laughing harder. “It’s not something horrible, I promise! I really think you’re going to like it.”
He looks at me, face filled with fake terror. “Just don’t hurt me.”
“It’ll be fun! Don’t look so nervous!”
“I feel like I have every right to be nervous when I look at your expression,” he says with a grin.
“No! It’ll be fun! So much fun, I promise!”
“Alright. I trust you. Just like I trusted how you wanted to ride on my bike and it’s all you ever dreamed about since you were a wee baby.”
I grin at him. “Yeah, well, past me was stupid. Present me knows that life is valuable and that riding that bike is like knocking on Death’s door with a box of pizza.”
“I didn’t know Death liked pizza that much.”
“Cookies then. Everyone likes cookies.”
“Alright, I promise I won’t force you onto my bike, alright?”
“Deal. The restaurant is a little bit of a drive. I hope that’s okay? About fifty minutes?”
“That’s fine with me. I’m sure you’ll entertain me the whole way,” he says with a smile. “So tell me about what other embarrassing things you like to do.”
“This is a thing for you now, isn’t it?” I ask in worry.
&nb
sp; “I don’t know why I like it so much. Maybe I just want to know everything I can about you.”
I snort. “Lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”
He grins at me. “It was supposed to be sweet.”
“Yeah, I don’t know how to deal with too much sweet stuff.”
“Really? When I interact with you, I feel like you’re the spitting image of Cupid.”
“Aw, thanks, but no. I’m really bad at this stuff. But I’ve caught your attention somehow,” I say as I turn onto the highway. “Oh my god. Do you think I’m rich or something?”
He looks aghast. “You’re not?”
“God, no. I spend all my money on my cat.”
“Shit. That’s the only reason I was here. Man… I suppose I’ll just have to stick around because you’re kind of entertaining.”
“Deal.”
We talk so much that the drive flies by and fifty minutes is gone before we know it. We talk about TV shows and movies we enjoy. He tells me about the books he likes to read while I tell him that I only like books with pictures in them. He looks slightly horrified about that one but I just laugh it off.
When I pull up to the place, I’m honestly not sure I have the right one.
“Oh my god. You’re a serial killer, and you’re going to kill me,” Bradley announces. “I knew you were too good to be true.”
I start laughing. “I’m not a serial killer. This might not be the right address!” I say just as I see a sign for Culinary Pleasures with small writing underneath that says “Parking in the Rear,” and I barely hold back childish laughter.
“What… is this place?” he asks warily as I turn into the parking lot and follow it to the back.
“I promise you’re gonna like it.”
“Alright. I’m trusting you. Barely. Like… there’s a thin thread of trust at the moment and it’s getting pulled painfully tight.”
“As tight as the trust I had for you when you tried killing me on your bike?” I ask.
“You’re never going to let go of that, are you?”
“Probably not.”
“That’s reasonable.”
I park and get out before looking at him. “Are you ready?”
“Should I tell my mom I love her first?”
“You’re not going to die!”
“That’s what a serial killer would say.”
I start laughing. “I’m not one! You’ll love it… I think? I mean… let’s just try it and see, alright? If you don’t, we’ll leave!”
“Alright. My life is in your hands.”
I snort. “I don’t need your whole life. Maybe just like… your hand or something.”
“Deal.”
We get out of the car and I lead him over to the door at the back of this building complex. There’s a sign on the door that says “Culinary Pleasures” with a much smaller font saying “Cum Inside,” and I wonder if this really was a good idea. I’ve proven time and time again that not all of my ideas are good ones. And… I’m starting to wonder if this is one of those times.
I pull open the door and wave Bradley inside as he wears this amused expression with arched eyebrows and wide eyes.
The woman inside smiles from where she stands behind a counter. “Good evening, gentlemen, do you have a reservation?” She gives us a pleasant smile as she wears her dark hair up in a tight bun, her dress made of black leather that tightly hugs her breasts.
“We do, for Michaels,” I say.
“Ah, yes, right here. Follow me please, gentlemen.”
As she steps out from behind the counter, I realize that it isn’t a dress. The top is tight leather, but the bottom is made of leather straps that crisscross until it looks like a skirt. I can clearly see her bare ass, besides what her thong hides.
Bradley points at her ass, looks at me, and cocks his head. He looks noticeably confused about why the hostess forgot half of her outfit at home.
I am as well.
“First time here?” she asks as she looks back at us.
One look at Bradley’s face is enough to answer her question, but I smile and nod. I am now way too curious about what the hell is happening to be embarrassed or regret my decision to come here.
“Yes!”
“Beautiful,” she purrs as she leads us through a doorway and into the restaurant. The lights are dim, but there are tables throughout the room and people eating, mostly couples. Each table is sectioned off by a half wall for privacy. The walls are decorated with paddles and handcuffs, amongst other BDSM-related things.
She sits us down at a table and sets menus in front of us. “Your waitress will be here momentarily.”
“Thank you.”
“I would have been less surprised if you’d brought me here to murder me,” Bradley says as he examines the light hanging over the table that is held up by nipple clamps.
“Do you… like it?” I ask, slightly nervous.
He grins at me. “I… do. This is actually… kind of awesome. I don’t know what the hell we’re getting into… but I’m curious,” he says. “Oh my god. The salt shakers are penises,” he says as he grabs one. “Look at this! I want these!”
So there we are, playing with the penis shakers when the waitress comes up with a smile. She slams a crop down on the table, making us both jump since we’d been enthralled with the penis shakers.
“Evening, boys,” she says. “You will call me Mistress.”
This woman has a skirt and a corset on, but her breasts hang over the corset. She has a tiny strip of black tape over each nipple.
“Did I say you could play with the stuff on the table?” she asks as she sets the head of the crop under my chin and makes me look up at her.
For some reason, I have this manic smile on my face because I’m so overly amused by the entire thing. “But… they’re shaped like penises, and I have trouble not playing with things shaped like penises,” I say.
I can tell she tries her hardest not to smile.
“You’d better be careful, or I’ll have to discipline you,” she says. “Now what might you boys want to drink?”
“I want a Twisted Nipple,” Bradley blurts out, and it immediately makes me start snickering.
“And you?” she asks me.
“Same.” I have no idea what it is, but I’m digging the name and going with it.
As soon as she walks away, Bradley nods in her direction. “I think she stole the other half of the hostess’s clothes.”
I start laughing. “This is insane, but I kind of love it.”
“The moment I saw that lady’s butt, I knew I was in for an interesting evening,” Bradley says with a grin. “I suppose we should figure out what we want to eat so we don’t get spanked when she gets back.”
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind watching her spank your ass,” I say, grinning at the idea. “I can’t promise I won’t laugh, though.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to laugh. It’s supposed to be sexy.”
“Oh… right! I won’t laugh! I promise.”
“That was the weakest promise I’ve ever heard.”
“Ever? That’s a pretty good accomplishment.”
“You’ve actually been accomplishing a lot, taking so many of my firsts. First time I thought I was going to die on a bike from rib crushing. First time I skipped. First time going to a BDSM restaurant.”
“Damn, I’m good.”
“You are.”
And that’s when the waitress reappears. She sets two empty glasses in the middle of the table along with two bottles before pulling out a blindfold. “Who’s thirsty?” she asks.
“He is,” Bradley says as he points at me.
“Oh?” she asks as she looks at him. “Everything you say, you need to call me by my proper name. Take your shirt off. You don’t want to get it messy, now do you?”
“Me?” he asks.
“Don’t forget the ‘Mistress,’” I helpfully add.
“Yes, yes,” she says as she runs
her fingers through my hair. “This one gets it. Shirt off, or are you not thirsty?”
I’m grinning at Bradley when he glances at me, but he shrugs and starts unbuttoning his shirt. My eyes follow his fingers down as the waitress watches with me.
“Do you like that?” she asks me, like I should admit that I’m enjoying Bradley’s unclothing.
“It’s better than football, at least,” I say.
She snorts and my eyes return to Bradley, who has revealed his toned stomach and chest. What I hadn’t realized is that he has tattoos running down his chest and upper arms that are usually hidden by his clothes. Since when did men on bikes with tattoos become such a turn-on for me?
She leaves me and walks behind Bradley now that he’s shirtless. She draws the blindfold across his chest as he gives me a look that has me grinning madly. It’s kind of a Help me. What did you get me into? look. And I help by enjoying myself.
Then she wraps it around his eyes, cutting off the pleading look. I literally never imagined how much fun this would be as I stare at him in awe of what will happen next. She leans into him as she reaches forward and grabs a bottle.
“What the hell have you gotten me into, Clyde?” he asks.
“I don’t know, but I’m loving it,” I say as she tilts his head back.
“Say, ‘Give me something to drink, Mistress,’” she orders.
I’m trying my hardest not to grin maniacally as he says, “Um… Give me something to drink? Mistress?”
“Open your mouth, boy,” she says, and when he does, she pours something into it.
He swallows it and she slams the bottle on the table.
“Did I tell you that you can swallow?” she asks, and I swallow hard just from looking at Bradley blindfolded, trying his hardest not to grin.
“No, Mistress.”
“No, I didn’t. I guess you must be punished,” she says as she opens a small jar and pulls out an ice cube. Then she takes my arm and pulls me out of my chair and over behind him. She puts the ice in my hand.
“Punish him.”
And then I’m standing there dumbly, cold ice melting in my hand as I look down at Bradley. Maybe… we shouldn’t have done this on the second date.
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