33
Brandon unlocked the door, and the two of them lingered on the threshold for a brief second.
Deep down, he fought against the twinges of insecurity gnawing at him. He knew just how wealthy Amanda was—they had literally just walked out of her father's lavish estate.
Her gaze drifted between the apartment and Brandon, taking it all in as if trying to decipher his world.
“What? It looks so cozy! Honestly, I’m impressed by how neat you keep it.”
“Were you expecting a pigsty?”
Amanda slipped off her heels with a soft sigh, setting them by the door. Brandon kicked off his shoes too, hanging her purse on the coat rack near the entrance.
“Well, I know it’s a cliché to assume all guys are slobs. But I saw plenty of college dorms and a few frat houses, too. Clichés exist for a reason.”
She strolled around the room, taking in every detail with keen curiosity.
There wasn’t much to Brandon’s place. Most of the decor had been left behind by the previous tenant, but he’d still added his own touches: a small stack of books in the living room, some warm string lights, and even a potted plant resting near the window.
“Seriously? Look at this! What bachelor living on his own keeps a houseplant alive?”
“I… I don’t know.”
Amanda trailed her fingers over the books lining a slender tower shelf in the corner.
When she leaned down to check the lower titles, Brandon caught his breath.
The fabric of her dress stretched taut across the generous curve of her hips, the high slit teasing a breathtaking view of her shapely legs.
Amanda glanced back over her shoulder, tucking a loose lock of blonde hair behind her ear.
Loose as mercury. The thought echoed in Brandon’s head, recalling the fluid grace of her bare body in the sauna.
Brandon gave her space to look around. He stepped into the kitchen, grabbed a Coke for himself, and offered her one, which she gladly took.
Carrying the two cold cans over to the coffee table, he kicked himself.
Should’ve bought wine. But he’d been far too wound up with nervous energy before their date to even think that far ahead.
Sinking onto the sofa with a contented sigh, she popped the tab and took a sip. Then she patted the cushion right beside her, silently commanding Brandon to join her.
“Come on. Loosen up, sweetheart.” As he settled in next to her, she leaned in close. “Come here. I know just the thing to get you to… relax.”
She caught him by the chin and drew him into a long, tender kiss.
“That definitely helps.”
She kissed him again, lingering even deeper before pulling back with a coy smile. Leaning across to the coffee table, she took another sip of Coke and caught sight of Brandon’s camera. She scooped it up and nestled back into the cushions.
“You know what? I think I’ll only give you one more order tonight, and then you’re off duty.” She pressed the power button and started flicking through the photo gallery.
“And what order would that be, Mistress?”
“You’re going to be a good boy and tell me all about yourself.
Like this?” she asked, tilting the screen toward him.
“This is the kind of stuff I want to know!
Were you a photographer at your last job?
Because none of what I'm seeing here looks like amateur work. How long have you been shooting? What other hidden talents are you keeping from me?”
“No… nothing like that. It’s just something I’ve enjoyed since I was a kid. No more hidden talents, I promise.”
“Doesn’t matter. Spill. It’s long past time I got to know my boy a little better.”
“All right. If it’s your command.”
“Damn right it is. My final order of the night.” She swung her legs onto Brandon’s lap, settling in comfortably.
His hands glided over her calves until his palms cupped Amanda’s bare feet.
Without a second thought, he began working them with a gentle, rhythmic massage.
The touch coaxed a soft moan from Amanda’s lips, making her melt deeper into the cushions.
Spurred on by the sound, Brandon devoted himself entirely to the task, his thumbs kneading deep circles into her soft soles.
Soon, the conversation flowed effortlessly between them.
A warm, easy intimacy settled over the room as they shared what they liked, what they did, their hobbies, and how they’d grown up.
Brandon felt his guard slip away, the glaring social divide between them dissolving into the background.
It was a natural ease he hadn’t felt with anyone in a very long time.
Amanda let out another yawn, and Brandon followed suit by reflex.
The exhaustion of the day was finally catching up to them, yet neither of them wanted the night to end.
He glanced at the clock on the shelf and realized they’d been talking for nearly three hours straight.
No way. Amanda followed his gaze, her eyes going wide with the exact same shock.
“God! Is that clock actually right?”
“I was just wondering the same thing.”
They grabbed their phones and confirmed it: almost three hours had slipped right through their fingers.
“No wonder I’m starving,” Amanda said, shifting slightly and draping an arm behind Brandon’s head. “Turns out I lied. I do have another order for you.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really. Your Owner commands you to order us a pizza.”
They both burst out laughing at her playfully imperious delivery. It was refreshing to see this side of her: playful, teasing, and so disarmingly vulnerable at his side. Brandon felt lucky just to witness this side of Amanda.
He pulled out his phone, and together they picked a flavor and placed the order.
“Come on, up you get. I need to use the bathroom.” Brandon obliged, stepping aside to show her the way, though the door was already in plain sight. “And I really need a shower. Do you mind?”
“I’ll grab a fresh towel for you. Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Perfect. That was going to be my next order.”
“I thought we were done with orders.”
“They’re done when I say they’re done,” she murmured, her voice a sultry whisper against his ear.
Amanda followed Brandon into the bedroom while he went to fetch a clean towel. He slid open a dresser drawer, and when he glanced back, she was looking around his room with a satisfied smirk.
“What? I’m just sizing up where I’ll be spending the night.”
He chuckled, handing her the towel.
“Besides, I just remembered something. Where is it?”
“Where’s what?”
Her brow arched in a suggestive slant. “The very first present Isa and I left in your locker.”
Brandon felt the heat rush to his cheeks, instantly flashing back to the day he discovered their lacy lingerie stashed among his things at the club.
“How did you even pull that off? Did you swipe the master key from Laura, or make up an excuse so she’d hand it over?” he asked, pulling open the nightstand drawer. Nestled safely in the corner, neatly folded, were the two pairs of panties.
“Now that’s a secret you’ll never pry out of me.” She pinched the silk pieces between her fingers and gave a wicked little giggle. “Seriously? Right on the nightstand? God, I would've paid to see your face when you found them.”
“Where else was I supposed to put them? It’s not like anyone’s ever given me a gift like that.”
“And is that why you’re blushing even harder now?”
“No! I’m just… Here, take this.” He shoved the fresh towel into her hands and gently steered her by the shoulders toward the bathroom. “Go on, the pizza’s going to be here any minute.”
“The nerve! Is that really how you’re going to treat your Owner?”
Amanda giggled and clicked the bathroom door shut behind her.
How old are you, Brandon? he thought, shaking his head as he headed toward the kitchen. What are you, a hormonal teenager? Getting all flustered over a pair of panties? Idiot.