Chapter 9
KYLIE
Between work and preparing for my move this weekend, I’d been able to find any distraction from the excitement for my date with Luc tonight.
I had briefly mentioned my date in the sister group chat and to Lily, but the recent events in Kelsey’s life had taken precedence.
Kelsey had been thrown into a whirlwind, with photos of her and Sam splashed across the internet.
I briefly scanned the photos. I hoped that if this wasn’t serious for him, she could protect her and Crew’s hearts.
Lily had opened her closet to me, a benefit of us being the same size and a holdover from her previous astronomical clothing budget. Lily’s family had been rich, rich. Meaning they were friends with the owners of baseball franchises.
Going through her closet had been humbling, and I passed up a Dolce the only complaint was the cost. But that apparently wasn’t a concern for Luc.
From my earlier Google search, I knew there was an eleven-year age gap between us, and while Luc didn’t seem that much older, I didn’t want people to think he was out to dinner with a kid.
When I arrived at the host stand, I gave Luc’s name.
“Your date is already here. Right this way.”
I followed him towards a secluded section of the restaurant, catching sight of Luc seconds before he saw me.
Luc’s eyes widened and drank in my appearance, his gaze greedily crawling up and down before meeting my eyes. I inhaled sharply, my stomach flipping as I practically tripped over my own two feet.
Oh man, how had I forgotten how attractive this man was?
He had left the stubble instead of shaving his face clean. His deep brown eyes softened the sharp, chiseled, and commanding appearance of his jawline.
I found my legs again and continued towards him. He stood, and his long legs closed the gap between us. He confidently leaned in, brushed my hair to the side, and kissed my cheek before ushering me to join him.
“Beautiful, Kylie.”
“Thank you,” I said, my eyes dropping to my hands before lifting to meet his.
His smile widened, and dammit, there was that crinkle in his eyes. I would do anything for him to level his gaze upon me, and that fact should scare the piss out of me. Just a simple look is all it took.
My hands shook a bit as I reached for the glass of water and sipped it.
“I ordered a bottle of red wine. Does that work for you?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Just then, the waiter came back with the bottle of red wine. He opened it, allowing Luc to have a taste. Once Luc nodded, he poured us two full glasses of wine before setting the bottle on the table and leaving us.
I sipped the wine, the flavor exploding on my taste buds.
“Like it?” Luc asked, dialing into my reaction.
“I love it.”
“I know we’re at an Italian restaurant, but this Paso Robles Cabernet is one of my favorites.”
“California?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Have you ever lived in California?”
“Say you Googled me without saying you Googled me,” Luc responded.
“Sorry, I like to make the most of the information available.”
“Any reservations?” he asked.
“Other than you being out of my league?” I asked with a huff.
“As much as I don’t want to have the ex talk, maybe we need to?”
“Maybe.”
His agreement to discuss his past reassured me; at least he understood how his ex-wife’s fame would make it difficult for me.
“Skylar and I were married for almost ten years. We split because the direction of our relationship was no longer heading towards a future we both agreed on.”
“Did you want children?”
Pain sliced across his face, and I wanted to withdraw my question.
Luc swallowed forcefully. “It didn’t happen for us.”
I felt there was more of a story, but I also understood that while he answered truthfully, he didn’t plan to elaborate. And it was definitely something that still stung.
The waiter returned to take our order, and I apologized because I hadn’t even looked at the menu.
“Would you like some calamari?” Luc asked, and I nodded.
“We should at least look at the menu to be ready when he returns.”
“Oh, I figured that out before you arrived. Chicken Piccata.”
“Okay, is it time for me to admit I checked the menu online, and I’m going to have the mushroom risotto?”
“What would you do in the time before internet searches?” he asked with a wicked grin.
“Is this where you pretend that you lived in the time before cell phones? Cher Horowitz had cell phones, and that movie came out in 1995. And Google said you were born in 1990.”
Luc laughed genuinely.
“When’s your birthday?” he asked.
“Eek, ready for it?” I asked. My birthday always caused a pause, if not a somber shift, in the conversation.
“Well, you already know mine is April 1st, so it can’t be worse than that.”
“It’s September 11, 2001. My mom watched the towers fall as she labored with me.”
“Oof. That would have been tough for your parents. I can imagine how frightened they were in the hospital while the world was in chaos outside.”
“They were panicked that something would happen to my grandparents while they watched Kendra. And now? Memorial services often overshadow my birthday. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s important to remember; I wish I hadn’t been born on such a heavy day.”
The calamari arrived, and my focus zeroed in on the crispy fried rings and chunks of fresh garlic.
“Would you like to order the main course?” The waiter checked with us as I stared at our appetizer. Counting the seconds until he disappeared so we could dig into it.
“She’ll have mushroom risotto, and I will have chicken piccata,” Luc responded, ordering for both of us.
The waiter nodded and left us to enjoy our appetizer.
Luc cleared his throat and looked a bit nervous as he began to speak.
“I wanted to take a moment to talk about boundaries. While they may seem premature, I want to allow you to decide whether you want to pursue this before too many emotions are involved.”
I stopped chewing my calamari and stared at him. Um, weren’t we talking about birthdays? What kind of boundaries did he need now? This turn of the conversation confused me.
“I’m not ever going to get married again. I likely also won’t live with another woman, and I don’t want children. I know you’re twenty-four, and while these aren’t things you might want in your immediate future, they might be something you eventually want.”
“Oh,” I said, surprised he’d brought this up so soon. “I honestly don’t see any of that in my immediate future.”
“But you want it, eventually?”
“I honestly hadn’t put much thought into it. To be one hundred percent honest, I’ve never had a relationship serious enough for the topic to come up.”
“But your sister has a baby, right?”
“Yes. I love my nephew, but that’s not for me right now.”
“I like you a lot, Kylie. You’re the first woman other than my ex-wife who has captured my attention in over a decade. I don’t want to ever lead you on about where this relationship is heading.”
“I guess I’m confused. What are your limits? Are you saying it will only ever be casual?”
“Not casual. Just never permanent.”
I chewed a mouthful of calamari and washed it down with a swig of red wine.
“A secret?” I asked.
“No, you can tell anyone you choose.”
I thought about it, and nope, that wouldn’t work.
“My dad gets attached, and my sister is dating one of your players. My other sister can’t keep anything quiet. So I guess my boundary would be that you wouldn’t get to meet my family.”
“Ouch,” he said. “But I understand. Would you be willing to meet my family?”
“I would consider it if we were in that place.”
“That’s fair. I’m sorry. I feel like I’m dropping a lot on you before we even have our entrees.”
“You think?” I asked, taking a healthy swig of wine. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to chase me away.”
“That’s the opposite of what I’m attempting here. I want to ensure you know exactly what you’re walking into.”
“Yet, somehow, I’m even more confused than when I walked in the door.”
I tried to mask the confusion that was slowly bordering on anger. Did I want to marry this guy? Jesus, we’d met twice and had a couple of terrific text conversations, but here he was, declaring no, never.
I continued, “Maybe this is because I’m twenty-four, but the people I have dated in the past have been more focused on whether or not I’d let them get in my pants, not on whether I wanted to get married.”
“Well, another note of clarity. I very much want to get in your pants, but only if that’s something mutual.”
Those brown eyes locked on mine; I had never had someone be so direct with me, and holy shit, my body, which had always failed me in these situations, began to react. The slight shift in my seat was a tell, and he didn’t miss it.
“Kylie, when you mentioned people, were those people men or women?”
Oh, he caught that. “Both.”
“Are you bisexual?” he asked, and my face burned.
“I’m not sure.”
“Do you enjoy sex with both men and women?” he asked.
My eyes darted left to right, down to my hands, where I realized I’d been picking at my fingernails.
“I don’t enjoy sex with anyone. But I’m attracted to both men and women.” I answered honestly as our eyes met once more.
His hand reached across the table. His thumb stroked my cheek, the pad of his thumb rough against my smooth skin. He then traced my lower lip, and my mouth gaped open of its own volition.
“When we were texting the other night, what did you think when I called you a ‘good girl?’” He asked, his thumb continuing it’s ministrations.
His voice vibrated through me as I felt my body respond. My heart pounded in my chest, nipples puckering against the fabric of my dress.
“Suck,” he commanded.
And without thinking, I drew his thumb into my mouth. His eyes widened with surprise before he smiled back at me.
“That’s my girl.”
He withdrew his thumb and brought his hands back to the table. I gasped at the loss of the heat from his palm against my cheek.
“In any of your palate-cleanser romance books, have you ever considered a BDSM lifestyle?”
“Are you asking if I’ve read about it?”
“Yes, have you?”
“A little bit, yes.”
“Did it interest you?”
“A little bit, yes,” I admitted nervously. Though I was more than a little interested, the problem was that I wasn’t comfortable talking about it.
“Kylie, I need you to be very specific. What about it do you find interesting?”
His eyes shone back at me as I tried to put it into words.
“I don’t want to think. When I’m with someone else, my head won’t shut off. And if my partner asks me what I want, I lose focus and try to figure out what they want me to want. I want them to decide and take charge.”
As I finished my confession, the waiter returned with our entrees and topped off our glasses of wine.
“I need control,” Luc said once we were alone again.
I squeezed my thighs together, trying to create some friction as his statement woke up my long-dead libido.
“I think you liked that. I can see your nipples through your dress, and I bet if I slipped my hand up your dress, you’d be wet for me.”
“Um,” I stuttered nervously.
“Don’t be nervous, Kylie. We won’t ever do anything that you don’t want. Consent and communication are required in the lifestyle, and consent can be withdrawn anytime.”
“Okay,” I said, unsure of what I agreed to.
“Are you good at following directions, Kylie?” Luc’s eyes burned into me.
“I’d like to try,” I answered. Shit, even if my last failed attempt at sex didn’t leave me wanting to try, something in his stare did.
And that’s how I found myself in the ladies’ room, removing my underwear and dipping two fingers inside me. And somehow, I found that, yes, I was indeed soaked for Luc. All because he had demanded it of me.