She said love that time, not loved.I can’t decide if it matters. I can’t decide anything, because her eyes are staring straight into my soul like they did right before the first time I kissed her. I know now that was a mistake. This whole weekend was a beautiful, catastrophic mistake, and I don’t know how to fix it.
“Feeling cared for and feeling loved are… They’re very, uh, similar.” God, now I’m stuttering. “And yes, in that situation, you want it to feel like, you know, you want it to feel…”Well, what the fuck do you want it to feel like, you useless asshole?
Amber clutches my hands tighter and shakes her head. “I’ve made it weird, haven’t I?” She wrinkles her nose. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to be awkward. I just wanted you to know that no man has ever made me feel the way you do, andthat’s good. That’s what I wanted, right? So, you know, mission accomplished.”
“You didn’t make it weird, honey. I think I did.” I try to laugh and sound lighthearted, holding on to her long fingers. “I don’t want to hurt you. I would never want to hurt you. And I would never want you to feel that I had let you down, or that I had used you.”
“I thought we established I like being used,” she says with a sly grin, and I feel heat again but not in my damn face, no, in my fucking groin that still isn’t getting the idea that this is a serious discussion and getting turned on right now isbad.
“Yes, we did,” I say with a breathless chuckle. “I mean, in a way you don’t want to be. I would never do that to you.”
“I know that.” Her eyes are still on my face when I feel something rubbing along my thigh.
Amber’s foot is rubbing along my thigh under the table. That panic/pleasure combination seizes my brain again, and I don’t know that anything I say right now is going to diffuse the situation. I should just shut up, and change the subject. This isn’t going to get any better in a restaurant where there are other people.
Mercifully at that moment our food arrives, and Amber’s foot drops from my thigh. I mumble some thanks to the waitress, my mouth just as useless as my brain, and Amber smiles at her brightly, completely nonplussed while I’m the bumbling fool across from her.
“This looks so good,” Amber says, inhaling deeply over her plate. “I’m starved.”
“Me, too.” I’m grateful for the couple of minutes of silence as we eat to try and gather my thoughts. Am I overthinking this? Am I reading something into this that isn’t there? I want to ask her for clarification, but then I’m really risking fucking things up, and actually making this into a problem.Just calm down,Rembrook. Let her lead this conversation. Don’t make things worse.
“So, what do you have planned for the rest of our evening?” Amber’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and I look up to see her smiling at me.
Exactly. Just relax. Enjoy the night. Stop overthinking.
“Aside from taking you home and showing you a good time?” I ask with a grin, and she covers a giggle.
“I thought that was obvious.” She flicks her hair back, artfully sending the strap of her dress loose down her shoulder. “I was wondering if there were any specifics,sir.”
I’m not going to survive this meal. With a laugh, I put my hand on the table and look over at her.
“Are you wearing panties, Miss Pope?” I ask in a low voice, and her eyes sparkle.
“Yes, sir.”
“I want you to go to the bathroom and take them off,” I tell her. “I want you to put them in your purse and bring them to me, and then I want you to sit down and finish your meal. Do you understand?”
She nods, plucking her purse from her chair.
“What’s that?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
Amber sweeps from her chair, leaning over me, the loose strap of her dress allowing it to fall open enough for me to see her breast. “Yes, sir,” she murmurs against my ear, sweeping up the strap of her dress as she stands, and makes her way across the restaurant to the bathroom.
If this is our last night, then we’re going to enjoy it.
She returns after a few minutes, sashaying towards me, letting me know her ass is bare under her dress, and it feels like yet another delicious, filthy secret. A few men in the restaurant turn to watch her as she passes, their open admiration making my cock swell even more. Yes, she’s beautiful, she’s gorgeous,she has a body to die for, and I get to take her home and fuck her til she’s screamingmyname.I’m a fucking caveman.
She slides into her chair, and clicks open her purse. Under the table, she passes me something scant and lacy. I pass my fingers over the fabric before tucking it into my pocket, and tut quietly.
“Your panties are so damp, Miss Pope. Are you turned on?”
“I think I am, sir.” She bites her lip, and picks up her cutlery. “I watched one of those naughty videos I made with my professor while I was in the bathroom, and it made my pussy so wet.”
I am so fucking glad we’re well away from anyone else in the restaurant so they can’t hear us acting like sex-crazed deviants.
“You should eat, like I told you to, Miss Pope,” I say, and even my voice can’t hide just how aroused I am.
Amber demurely finishes her meal, and I try to do the same. Damn that hour drive home. It’s so fucking far.
