Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Mina
Never in my life has this worry crossed my mind before: I think I might come if we hit a pothole.
Somehow the heated seat is making it worse. I shift slightly and nearly moan. If the arrogant expression on Leo’s face tells me anything, it’s that he knows it.
Rat bastard.
That’s what he is.
He’s tried making conversation, but I can’t give more than one-word answers because his car is vibrating. I can feel the rumble of the speakers all the way to my goddamn clit. I have to squeeze my eyes shut against the torture.
And as if I’m not suffering enough, Leo places his hand on my bare thigh and drags it all the way up, stopping an inch—one singular inch—away from my core.
I blow out a breath, gripping the side of the door.
I’m going to die in here. I am actually going to die.
Leo chuckles—and even that does it for me. My tongue pokes out to wet my bottom lip, and I wish I had the confidence to employ my hands to bring myself to the finish line just so I can get myself through tonight.
If I thought the drive to the restaurant was painful, it’s nothing compared to pulling up to the restaurant and blindly accepting the valet’s hand to help me out of the car while forgetting that if I move, the toy moves.
I clamp my lips together and avoid eye contact at all costs as the toy pushes against my G-spot.
Leo’s there in a second to pull me away from the guy, and I’m just coherent enough to notice that he tipped the person who opened his door, but not the one who opened mine.
An asshole thing to do? Yes.
But does the jealousy turn me on? Absolutely fucking yes.
His hand finds the base of my spine, and he leads me up the steps, keeping close. I almost trip over my new chunky boots that give me six inches of height. They’re gorgeous, but they weren’t designed for me to walk in.
I blow out a flustered breath and try to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, not on the way my underwear is making the toy’s antenna rub against my clit.
Look, I realize this is essentially the first time we’ve had an outing as a “couple.” I also realize that it’s entirely possible someone pulls out their phone, snaps a picture, and sells it to any news media who might be interested.
Except right now, it feels like I’m getting fucked and stretched while I walk. I’m flushed, panting, and still far too hot to enjoy how the cool night air feels against my skin.
“Problem?” Leo says, subtly smirking.
All I manage is to glare up at him. If I open my mouth, I might moan instead.
At least I successfully nod my thanks to the person who opens the door for us, but that’s as far as my abilities go when we get to the hostess’s station.
Maybe if my vision wasn’t blurred around the edges from lust, I might be in awe of our current location.
Heavy crimson drapes line the walls surrounding the deep-mahogany furniture.
There is an assortment of fresh flowers everywhere I look, and real vines and other plants I don’t recognize hang from the ceiling like a chandelier.
When another one of my senses kicks in, the anxiety starts. It’s so loud. Chatter hits me from all around. The clink of cutlery. Knives scraping against porcelain. Soft strings of a violin. Laughter. Shoes hitting the wooden flooring.
My skin burns with awareness as I tuck myself closer to Leo’s side. It feels like everyone in here knows there’s basically a purple ticking time bomb in my vagina that could go off at any moment, and people will start chanting “shame.”
The anxiety detaches me from my libido enough to follow the hostess to a booth at the very corner of the restaurant, ease myself down onto the seat Leo pulls out for me, pick up the menu, and actually read what it says—well, it takes a couple goes to register the words, but at least I’ve regained cognitive function.
Which is poor timing because now the only thing I notice is the prices.
I set the menu down and tell Leo, “How about we get drive-thru—”
“Good evening, my name is Tedd, and I will be your server this evening.”
I slam my mouth shut and am suddenly reminded of what’s going on downstairs. It feels wrong to even be near another person when I have the toy inside me, so I keep my attention somewhere over Leo’s shoulder, who’s giving me a pleased smirk.
The only silver lining in this situation is that my back is to everyone, and the table directly beside us is still empty, so there’s no one to witness my demise.
“Can I start you off with anything? Water, or a cocktail? We also have a selection of wines available if you’d like me to show you.”
“I’ll just have still water, but she’ll have an espresso martini.”
Do I even want to know how he’s worked out that’s my favorite cocktail?
Tedd nods. “I’ll bring that over shortly.”
Our server leaves, and I shift uncomfortably in the seat, trying to ignore how the toy moves and that almost every item on the menu is over a hundred dollars.
“Have you spoken to your mother?”
I blink. He wants to talk about this right now? The memory sobers me and makes me sick to my stomach. “No. Which is worse.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “It means she has time to stew and come up with theories about how she’s the victim in this.”
The dread I’ve been feeling since yesterday sinks deeper into my stomach, not stopping until I’m nauseous.
“Mina—”
“Please, Leo.” I shake my head, wishing my eyes weren’t starting to heat as my brain begins its downward spiral. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I need a distraction before I start crying again.”
I glare at the white tablecloth. Mom isn’t even here, and she somehow ruins everything.
I think Leo goes on his phone—I don’t know.
I’m not sure I have it in me to care right now.
Going on this date—getting out of my room and pretending everything is okay—doesn’t change the fact that nothing is fine.
I want so many things, but I can’t have it all without losing something.
Not to mention there’s someone out there blackmailing me.
So, yes, a distraction is what I need.
I take a deep breath. “Why don’t you tell me how your day—”
Oxygen punches out of my lungs, and my hand hits the edge of the table while on its way to clamp over my mouth. The toy’s vibrations have me screwing my eyes shut—from pleasure or embarrassment or both. I squeeze my legs together, fighting every need to angle my hips and start seeking friction.
“Sorry, what were you saying?”
The sadistic fucking bastard keeps changing the settings, turning it all the way up for a couple seconds, then dropping it down to a low, steady strength. Every time he switches it up, I’m fighting my reflexes to keep still.
If he thinks I’m able to respond to him properly, he’s out of his mind.
I force myself to keep my eyes open, but I’m not seeing anything. I’ve soaked through my panties and am probably ruining the leather skirt.
He drops the setting just enough for me to gasp, “Leo—”
Tedd’s arrival shuts me up. “Espresso Martini?” He sets the drink in front of me.
I awkwardly clasp my trembling hands in my lap, trying to plaster on the most innocent I’m definitely not about to have an orgasm smile I can muster.
“Are you ready to order, or did you need more time?” Under different circumstances, I’d be annoyed that the waiter is referring to Leo, expecting him to answer on my behalf. Now, I’m just grateful.
“The chef’s selection for two would be great.”
My eyes widen. Absolutely not. That’s way too expensive. The gifts, I can accept. A meal? I can’t justify that.
“Good choice. That shouldn’t be too long.” Tedd leaves with a smile.
I open my mouth to argue with Leo, but the only thing that comes out is a barely audible whimper because the asshole ups the vibration level. My lower stomach cramps painfully, but it’s a dull ache against the pleasure.
“Before you bring up how much things cost, I make triple what this dinner is worth while I take my morning shower. No, we will not be getting drive-thru. No, don’t offend me by offering to split the amount. Yes, you should get used to this. Did I miss anything else?”
The vibrations stop, and I slump against the chair, a sweaty, panting mess. A deep inhale does wonders to ground me, and I try to ignore the sharp spasms in my cervix.
Shit. I didn’t bring any painkillers—not like they’ll do much.
Clearing my throat, I brush the loose hair from my face and keep the bottom half of my body perfectly still.
“Yes, actually. I’m not ready to move into your house.
We had an interesting start, and I think we need to take a step back, take baby steps, and get to know each other first before living together. ”
He eyes me curiously. “Is this because it’s what you want, or because you’re scared about someone else’s reaction?”
“It’s because I don’t want to keep doing what people tell me to do when it’s what they want.” It comes out harsher than I expect.
I sip a healthy amount of the martini to get myself under control. I’m not actually mad at him. Sure, I’m a bit peeved he made me play into the game for months, but the space where we are now?
He brought forward the inevitable with my mother when I would’ve done everything in my power to push back that introduction. I’m more upset about dealing with my mom than having him rip the Band-Aid off.
Leo’s hand on mine startles me, but I keep mine exactly where it is, threading our fingers together in silent apology for snapping at him.
“I’ll give you the time, but you’ve had months of space to prepare for a life where we end up together. I’ll be right here. Always,” he says evenly, to make sure I catch every word of his intent.
My chest warms as I study the way his eyes bore into mine. This man really means it. That was a promise. None of this was a trick, or a test, or a way to get back at me.
Leo Duval is my serious, honest to God boyfriend.
And this isn’t just dinner; it’s a date.
A real freaking date with my real-life boyfriend, Leo Duval.
And he’s not going anywhere.
I can’t help it. A slow, giddy smile spreads across my face. “What if I show up to a game wearing the other team’s jersey?”
His brows hike in consideration. “Are you wearing someone else’s number?”
“Yes.”
“Then they die too,” he answers simply. “You can’t get rid of me.”
I giggle. Giggle. At his suggestion of murdering someone else for me. “What if I’m wearing your jersey while cheering for the other team?”
His eyes harden, but they’re still faintly twinkling with amusement. “Because of that, you’re not going to come tonight.”
My jaw drops. “I take back what I said.”
“Too late.” He shrugs, taking a sip of water that does nothing to hide his grin. “Actions, meet consequences.”
“I didn’t say I was going to do it.” I huff, giving his hand a squeeze. Because I can. Because he’s actually here, and I’m allowed to touch him.
“You put the image in my head, and now not only am I feeling murderous, but I’m also jealous too. Someone will need to pay.”
“Aren’t you supposed to let it out on the ice?”
“Play your cards right, and you might reap the benefit of my frustrations.”
The long sleeve was a bad idea. It’s far too hot in here. “And that would be so unfortunate.”
“So unfortunate,” he confirms, the corner of his lips tilting ever so slightly.
“And what if . . . I change my mind?”
Did I just flutter my eyelashes? What is this man doing to me? I’d be ashamed of how I’m acting if he didn’t run his thumb over my knuckles and quirk a brow.
“What if I decide I want to move in with you tomorrow?” I clarify.
“Your medications are already in my cupboard, I have some of your clothes in the basement, and movers on speed dial. Say the word, and you’ll be settled in within twenty-four hours.”
“How about if I ask for a second library?”
“There’s enough space in the backyard to build a large shed and move my gym in there.”
“And if I want a dog?”
“I can get Sabrina’s friend’s number. He’s a trainer. Just let me know what breed.”
“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to contain the excitement.
He shrugs. “I decided a long time ago that you’re mine. That means whatever you want, you get.”
“What if I don’t want this with you?” I test carefully.
Leo leans forward, and I find myself doing the same. “Then I wish you the best of luck trying to make that a reality. I’m not the type of person who changes his mind. I’m stubborn to a fault. You’re stuck with me, Mina.”
“How very unfortunate for me.”
“Very unfortunate,” he echoes, a smile splitting across his face.
This man really is going to ruin me, and I think I might thank him when he does.