29. 29
Harlow
I stare at the message over and over in disbelief.
THE PATIENT: Dress up tonight for your shift.
Me: Why?
THE PATIENT: I’m taking you to dinner.
This is real.
Our first real date. I mean, it’s during work hours—
No! Don’t overthink this.
After class, I rush home, shower, and find a curve-hugging green dress in the back of my closet. New thong panties that I bought with Killian’s card, and strappy high heels. I style my hair and put on makeup. I look hot.
“Really hot,” I mumble, then check my pronounced backside in the mirror. “I’m just as pretty as Frida. Believe it. Believe it. Believe it.”
Knock, knock.
Who could be here?
I check through the peephole.
Oh. Killian. Wow. I figured we’d leave from the mansion.
I open the door and smile as I take in the sight of him. He wears slacks and a black collared shirt, two gold chains, a matching watch, perfectly styled hair, and that sexy, crooked smirk.
“Goddamn,” he says and shakes his head. “You’re gonna give me a hard-on all night.”
“Good.” I don’t hide my smile and do a slow spin for him. “I didn’t think you were picking me up.”
“It’s a date. The man drives.”
Heck yeah. The confirmation I needed.
Without another word, he pushes his way inside. Something catches his eye, and he squints, but he quickly refocuses on me, stroking his jaw as he drinks in my curvy form.
“That dress. Mmm, mmm, mmm.”
“Thanks,” I say bashfully. “We can go. I’m ready—”
Suddenly, I’m pushed against the wall, my chest flattening against the old wallpaper. My dress is yanked up, and cold air hits my bare skin.
“Killian!”
He’s close, his body caging mine. His hands follow the curve of my waist and spread over my ass, squeezing. Sensually, his thumbs stroke over the waistband of my thong.
“These for me, baby?”
My voice cracks. “Yeah. They’re for you.” To make him even more pleased, I add, “I waxed too.”
He nips the shell of my ear, then his thumbs hook under the elastic and slowly pull down.
“Aren’t you going to buy me dinner first?” I tease.
“Think you’re cute, baby? Don’t worry. I’m not gonna fuck you. Yet.”
My eyes blow wide as something wet, cold, and hard drags from my pussy to—
I gasp and tense. I push off the wall, but his weight presses down, keeping me pinned there.
“What are you doing?” I say frantically as pressure builds against my asshole.
“Be a good little employee. Arch your back and let it in.”
I stammer, unsure what’s happening. It’s not his cock. It’s too stiff and cold.
Just then he kisses my neck, and his other hand snakes around, finding my clit.
Painfully slow, his fingers circle my clit while the blunt tip presses against my ass, tangling pleasure with the pressure until I can’t separate them.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and give in, arching my back.
The pressure builds against the tight muscle.
I whimper and breathe unsteady. It hurts. More and more.
“Shh. You’re okay. That’s it.” A kiss presses to my temple, warm and grounding. “Almost there, baby.”
I nearly cry out, and—
The pressure suddenly lessens. Something’s still there. I clamp down reflexively around a narrow stem, but the hard object stays in place. I glance back at Killian.
“What is it?”
“A plug, and you’ll wear it all night for me while I watch you pretend you don’t like it.”
“What?” I balk.
He taps the flared base, sending the sensation deeper. I clench around the plug before forcing myself to relax.
Killian snaps my panties back over my hips, trapping the base snugly between my cheeks before smoothing my dress over his secret.
“Relax, you pathetic thing. I lubed it. You’re fine.”
I say nothing, but he must see the horror across my face, because he chuckles.
“I have to train you to take my cock, baby. I’m a lot bigger.”
I blink several times and shake my head. Of course, he disregards me.
“I’m not doing that. I’m taking this out,” I say.
“Nope. It stays. Your body wants it there. It’s aching to feel the real thing. Although, I imagine you’re afraid you’ll like it too much. Me, owning another part of you.”
Bastard.
“Okay, but I’m telling you now, Killian. It won’t happen.”
“We’ll see.”
At the restaurant, I shift in my seat, adjusting for my new accessory. I’m still angry that he ignored me. I could remove it in the bathroom, but some stubborn, embarrassingly aroused part of me wants to prove I can handle it.
Killian watches from across the table, his eyes smoldering. “I’m already losing my mind watching you squirm,” he murmurs.
I cup my elbows and smile shyly, but I won’t let him control everything or think he can just boss me around.
That plug does feel... I don’t know.
That isn’t important. I can’t believe we’re here. On a date.
“It’s a fancy place, but I don’t put out on the first date.”
“You will. You love cock.”
I gasp, but a smile breaks through. “Only yours.”
He shrugs, as calm as can be. “I know. I’ve ruined you for other men.”
“Oh! Wow. Someone is full of himself!” I laugh dramatically, then sip my water. “I’m not into arrogant guys.”
“What kind of guys are you into?” His eyes are intense and sincere.
Toxic and wearing a crooked smile.
But I don’t say that. I think back to the conversation with Jaxson, wondering how this will differ.
“I like a gentleman.”
“Do you like stroking a guy’s hair all night?”
My mouth gapes.
“Uh, what?” I act dumb. I feel dumb. He was awake that night.
Ting, ting.
My gaze darts to my phone, and damn, I’m glad it interrupted at this exact moment.
I find a text.
Evan: Check this out.
Evan: Picture of an office door with his name on it. Underneath reads “Store Manager.”
Whoa. I’m surprised he got a management job, but I guess he really is changing.
“Who is it?” Killian asks.
I set my phone on the table.
“Keysha,” I lie. I don’t want drama tonight. I just want it to be about us on our first date. “I never asked you this, but what do you like in a girl?”
“You.”
My heart leaps into my throat. God, I’ve wanted him to say these things for so long. To make sure I’m not dreaming or misheard, I ask for clarity.
“Me? Really?”
He shrugs, then takes a deep breath. “Harlow, we spend a lot of time together, but this isn’t easy for me to say. I’ve been thinking a lot and need to tell you some things. Since I met you, my life—”
Ting, ting.
Ugh!
“One second,” I say, panicked, and rush to silence my phone. On the screen, another text.
Evan: Remember this? Found it in an old box.
Evan: Picture of a small bookend statue.
It’s a pair of crocodiles in love, a male and female. Evan gave it to me on our first date. I thought it was so sweet and cute.
Evan: We were so young.
It was only three years ago, but I get his point.
Quickly, I turn off the notifications and set my phone down. When I look up, Killian is setting down his own phone, then gives me a death stare from under his brow.
“Sorry, sorry. I turned it off. What were you saying?”
He doesn’t skip a beat.
“I like a girl I can trust.”
“Oh.”
The air thickens.
“I’ve been cheated on before,” he adds.
I nod slowly. “That’s terrible.”
Just then, our food is served, but the tension doesn’t ease.
I take a leap of faith.
“I won’t cheat on you, Killian. I want you to know that.”
It’s a bold statement. We haven’t talked about exclusivity. It’s literally a first date.
“Uh, I mean, if we were together. I would never cheat on you.”
His shoulders loosen but he still seems guarded.
We continue talking. It’s easy, but he avoids going back to that moment, which is really disappointing. I bring it up once. Then twice.
“It was nothing,” he assures, completely unfazed. “How’s school?”
I frown and shrug. “I have to pay next semester’s tuition by Friday. Other than that, things are going well. I got an A on my last two tests.”
I leave out the part that I only have half the money for tuition. Maybe I should sell the car. I could get a cheaper model and have plenty left over.
“Good job on the tests,” he says with sincerity.
“Thanks. I can’t believe I’m in college. I was never the school-type.”
“Me neither. That’s why I like dancing. Did you always want to be a nurse?”
“Yeah. My mom got breast cancer. I took care of her for a couple of years before she died.”
“I am sorry,” he says with sincerity.
“It’s okay. It taught me I like helping people that way. I’m a people person. I love talking to patients and moving around. I could never do remote work.”
“So being a nurse was always your plan for the future.”
“I mean, career-wise. I want to get married and have a family, too.” I sip my ice tea and add softly, “Do you?”
We’ve discussed it before, but now, I’m starving for specifics.
Immediately, I catch his eye twitch and he shrugs. “I had plans with Asher. We were going to travel the world, then do that.”
I tilt my head. “Marry each other?”
He laughs, loud and authentic. “I’m not gay.”
“Well!” I chuckle.
He smacks the tabletop in amusement. “No, Asher and I were close, but not that kind of close.”
I giggle, glad he isn’t offended by my assumption.
“Did you ever have a friend you planned a future with?” he asks.
“Sorta. Keysha and I were both planning to go to nursing school together. She became an EMT instead.”
He sits back in his chair, appearing calmer. “By the way, how do you feel?”
“Huh?” I think for a moment.
He smirks devilishly.
“Oh!”
The plug.
I squirm again, trying to ignore the fact that it’s comfortable yet has steadily become more noticeable. My body is more sensitive.
“I don’t particularly like it,” I reply smugly.
“No? Because you’ve been shifting in your chair more.” He licks his lips, that dangerous gaze too much to stare into for long.
My cheeks flush, but I won’t admit that I kind of like it.
It seems time flew by when I finish my meal.
It is definitely less awkward than when my phone chimed, but I can tell it’s bothering him.
I hang my head as we walk to the car. I could explain it’s Evan and totally harmless.
Some guys get so jealous, though. The last thing I want to do is talk about my ex.
The drive is quiet. The flash of streetlights illuminates my legs as we pass them. I hold myself as I grow increasingly upset. I’ve been dying for this chance. It feels like maybe it’s over already.
Then—
I nearly gasp as his hand reaches over and rests on my thigh.
Reflexively, I place my hand over his, desperate to keep the connection. He doesn’t look at me and keeps driving, but his thumb strokes tenderly.
Very. Good. Sign.
He pulls into a complex I don’t recognize. It’s gated and high-end.
“Where are we?”
“I want to show you something.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
He leads me to a condo on the top floor.
Inside, it’s immaculate, but nothing like the mansion.
Tall ceilings rise above dark furniture, while wall-size windows turn the Atlantic into moving artwork.
Disturbing paintings cover the few walls that aren’t made of glass.
The place isn’t warm, exactly, but it is honest. Nobody decorated it to make Killian appear normal.
“This is… very nice.”
“I own it. I lived here before the drugs. I’m moving back.”
“Oh.” I swallow hard, trying to process this news. “Out of your parents’ place.”
“Mm-hm.”
“Well, where does that leave me?”
He shrugs. “Where do you want it to leave you?”
“If we’re dating, I can’t keep being paid as your sober aide. Does your father know you’re moving?”
His eyes narrow. I guess he didn’t like that answer.
Ting, ting.
What the—?
I shut that off!
My hands fumble as I retrieve my phone, desperate to turn it off.
It’s Evan again.
Evan: Did you get my flowers?
Yes. I wish he would quit sending those. They arrived an hour before Killian showed up. I’m glad he didn’t see them on my kitchen counter.
I peek over at Killian. He’s on his phone, perhaps checking his own notifications. Patiently, I wait for him to finish. He slips his phone into his pocket, then side-eyes me. There’s something off. His expression is colder. His eyes darker.
Maybe he got a bad text.
“Everything okay?”
Suddenly, he strides toward me. He snatches my upper arm and drags me into the kitchen. I struggle to stay upright on my high heels.
“Killian!”
“Some women need pain to be properly ruined. That’s you, Harlow.”
The glint of his knife catches in the low light.