Chapter 6 Vincent
SIX
VINCENT
Is it weird if I don’t have my computer? Or maybe it’s weird if I’m working on it when he gets here. I sigh loud enough to attract the attention of a few people at nearby tables. Slinking in my seat, I mouth the word sorry.
Today is different from the last several times we’ve met, and I want to make sure he sees that the minute he walks into the café. Our last time together felt like a turning point, an opportunity to have a do-over for the night that went awry.
Normally, I would’ve chalked it up to a bad date and moved on. It’s not worth spending my time dwelling on things that might have gone differently. Not when there are plenty of other men out there, ones I haven’t met or dated yet, that I can focus on instead.
Plenty of my dates have gone poorly. Several of them have left when they realize the bits of makeup I wear aren’t a gimmick and that I’m unwilling to take it off for their comfort.
I love having the bit of sparkle on my face.
It makes me feel more genuine. And honestly, if all it takes is a little lip gloss to scare someone off, then good riddance.
Though there were a few I hoped would stick around a little bit longer.
Beau is anything but normal. A little surly and rough around the edges, but maybe that’s the draw.
Or it could be the way he always shows up looking perfectly put together, his outfit exquisitely on-point and matched from his tie right down to his shoes.
It makes me think there’s a wild side to him, just waiting to get loose.
I want to be there when that finally happens.
When the bells over the door jingle, I look up to find Beau walking in a few minutes early, looking delectable as always.
He’s traded his usual sweater for a simple button-up shirt and tie, with an olive-green blazer.
I love this new look on him, hopefully something that will continue now that the weather is finally getting warmer.
Instead of heading straight for the counter to place his order, he finds me at the table.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.”
“You want anything?” Beau asks.
“I’m good,” I reply, pointing toward the sandwich I’ve been waiting to eat until he arrived.
“I’ll be right back.”
Yeah, something between us has changed. When I saw Jacklyn last night, she was mysteriously quiet on the issue.
For the past two months, she’s been pressuring me to give her set-up a second chance.
Insisting that Beau is different than what I experienced.
I was too afraid to ask if she’d finally given up on the two of us, no longer able to deal with the constant disappointment.
Or maybe Beau told her we were getting together for lunch, and she wanted to ease off, in case her nagging created issues.
When Beau comes back, carrying his sandwich and latte, I pull out my sandwich. It’s hard to figure out what to call this, but I think it might count as a date, the two of us purposefully eating our lunches with one another. That thought’s a little scary.
“So, what’s new?” I ask.
“Nothing.” He shrugs. “Actually, I got asked by one of the people in the office to plan a birthday party. Not even for the office…completely off-site.”
“What did you do?” From our not-dates here, I’ve gathered that Beau’s annoyed with the way people treat him at work, never seeing his value.
“I told him to fuck off.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Except I used a lot more words and kept all of them professional.”
“Impressive.” I probably wouldn’t have that level of self-control. It’s something I’m working on, but there’s still room for improvement. A lot of it.
“Yeah, well, I’m sure I’ll hear about it for a few weeks.” He plays with his fork, tapping it against the edge of his plate without bothering to scoop anything up. “I was thinking…about our date.”
“Yeah, what about it?” I’ve mostly managed to put that disaster of a night out of my mind, swapping the bad memories for new ones
“I know I said I was sorry before, but I still feel bad. I was sort of an ass.”
I let the sort of part of that sentence slide. I can tell from the pained look on his face that he’s sincere in his apology.
“So, did I not get the traditional Beau date experience?”
BEAU
Vincent’s words set me on fire. I can’t help but swallow hard, my throat catching.
“Um…” Honestly, I don’t know exactly what that would entail.
It’s been far too long since I went on a date with anyone.
I’m not sure there is an experience. Just me floundering and trying to figure out how to date actual people. “Maybe?”
“You aren’t sure?” A few short meetings in a café, and he has me figured out. “Why don’t you tell me how you would’ve wanted it to go?”
My mouth goes completely dry. I did think about the date—a lot. From the time our friend set it up, I imagined how it might go. Repeatedly. Except, back then, my date was a random, faceless man. Now, I can fill in that fantasy with Vincent…and wow.
“I would’ve shared my popcorn with you.” It’s a stupid thing to say, but the expression on his face says that it might be important.
“Yeah? I like popcorn.”
“I mean, I bought it with the intention of sharing. The same with the soda.”
“But it only had one straw.” He gasps as he says it, clutching his hand to his chest, fingers looping through the gold necklace he’s wearing.
“Yeah, I…” There’s no good explanation here. “I didn’t want to be presumptuous. I had a second straw in my pocket.” I shrug. “I like sharing.”
“Do you now?” He bats his long eyelashes at me.
I’ve never seen a man with such gorgeous eyelashes.
I’ve never described a man as beautiful before, but it feels like the right choice.
Somehow, I doubt Vincent would take offense.
He must be wearing mascara. There’s no way they’d be so perfectly dark otherwise.
“Food and drinks, yeah.” People, not so much. I tend to be a bit jealous. I blame it on my college boyfriend, who took his study abroad time to cheat on me with every eligible gay man he could find in Spain.
“And what would we have done after the movie?”
It’s not that I don’t have an answer. In fact, I have a very long answer with a full description of the fantasy that played in my head before.
My silence is because the image in my head is different now that Vincent is sitting before me.
“Dinner, of course.” Jaclyn made those reservations in advance for us.
“Bold.”
“It’s just a little bistro across the road.” My face heats, and I know my cheeks must be bright red. Part of me wants to hide my face, but I refuse to break my gaze away from his.
“No, that you think the date is going well, but choose to go to dinner instead of back to one of our homes.”
“I—” I hadn’t thought of that. A visit to the bedroom was high on my agenda for the date, but I never imagined skipping our reservation.
“Hmmm…you wanted to make Jaclyn happy, didn’t you?”
I frown. “She went to a lot of work to set things up for us. It’d be rude not to follow through on her plans.”
He winks at me. “Okay, so we go to a nice dinner where I can sit next to you and tease you through those obscenely tight suit pants.”
I blink a few times, my brain is mush at his comment. “You’d…but we…I—” Have no clue what I’m trying to say.
“You like that idea? Me getting you all riled up while we wait for our food? That close to Valentine’s Day, they would’ve been very busy with couples who waited until the day after to avoid the rush. The kitchen might even be backed up, giving us plenty of time to get to know one another better.”
I shift in my seat, trying to discreetly adjust my hardening cock. From the smirk on Vincent’s face, he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
“We might have to sit there a while. Good thing I’d have something to keep my hands occupied.” He takes a long sip of his tea, keeping his gaze locked on me the entire time. “And then what? What did you picture after this dinner? I’m pretty sure Jacklyn didn’t put anything else on the itinerary.”
I clear my throat a few times before I feel ready to speak. “If things were going well—”
“Let’s assume they’re going very well.” His foot rubs against my ankles, stroking the outside of my calf a few times.
“I’d offer to take you back to my place?”
“Is that a question?”
“Or your place. Either one.” I don’t have a strong preference. I don’t know where Vincent lives, but whoever’s place is closest seems like the right choice.
“Hmmm…I’m more interested in what you planned to do with me once we got there.”
My mouth falls open. We’re in public. Our table is away from the crowds, and we’re speaking softly, but someone could still overhear us. I’ve already made an ass of myself enough times here. We don’t need to add to the list.
“Or maybe you’d prefer that I tell you what I thought would happen.”
I glance around the coffee shop. It’s busy, like it always is at lunchtime, with plenty of people popping in, some sitting at tables. Everyone is too focused on their own lives to pay us any attention.
“Yeah? You like the idea of me telling you how I thought things would go?” Vincent leans in close, lowering his voice enough that I have to lean in to hear him better.
“I’d take you back to my place, since it’s closer, strip you down, and lay you out on my bed.
As tempting as it would be to keep you on edge for hours, devouring every inch of your skin, I’d probably take pity on you.
Especially since dinner took so long.” He smirks.
“I bet I could make you come in under five minutes using only my mouth.”
Holy fuck. I want to do that.
“And it’s a win-win situation. You get to come and I get to taste you.” He licks his lips to make a point.
I close my eyes and count backward from one hundred by sevens to get control of myself. Going back to the office covered in coffee is one thing. Going back covered in cum is another.
“And then, once I’ve taken the edge off, the real fun would begin.”
It takes me several seconds to realize he’s stopped talking. “And then what?” I ask, unable to help the curiosity bubbling up inside me.
“For that, you have to go on a real date with me. Tonight at six. Meet me outside the coffee shop.” He lets his gaze run over my body. “And wear those pants.”
What the hell did Jacklyn get me into?