The maître d’ smiles, a little too much in Anita’s direction and as I consider setting him straight, he is leading us to our table which is situated towards the back of the restaurant where we sit opposite each other. I feel my own tension and can see her anxiety in her breathing and nervous nibbling of her lip. I am reminded of her having done that when she attempted to control the excitement and sound of her release when we had sex, both times. With the combination of how fucking hot she looks and my own thoughts of her lip biting I am stiffening in my pants and really need to get my mind out ofher pantsor we are going to end up shagging again with no chance of conversation. I think she senses my thoughts and concerns because she turns conversation to safe, non-sexual conversation, Mase and Liv.
“Dad said Liv and Mase had arrived safely.”
“Yeah, he sent that message to our mum,” I confirm, knowing full well that Mase refused to allow Liv to take her phone with her on honeymoon, but he did take one for emergencies that he had no intention of turning on once they arrived safely on the very small, secluded and exclusive little island he has taken his wife to.
“I have no clue where they’ve gone,” Anita says, and I nod.
“Nobody does, not really, except our dad. Mase wanted them off the radar unless there was an emergency.”
Again, she nods, and a strand of her hair falls across her face. She pushes it back slowly and I am back in that place where all I can think of is her and me naked and sweaty. The waiter appears as if on cue to get us out of each other and back on conversation. He leaves us with menus and that passes some time allowing me to calm down a little.
This is one of the reasons I prefer meaningless sexual relationships, because of the pretence a real girlfriend requires. When you both know and agree that sex is what you want and need it’s easy, no strings fun. You shag, you shag some more, maybe even share the odd meal or night out but you both still know that the real point is the end of the night, the sex and afterwards whoever isn’t home gets up and leaves. Easy, or it would be if Anita wasn’t my brother’s sister-in-law. That is the only reason I am thinking I might need to offer her more, isn’t it?
Anita
We are sitting and staring at each other and have been for a while. We’ve eaten in relative silence and it’s not a comfortable silence we’ve shared. I am desperately trying to think of something to say to break the heavy, awkward atmosphere between us. Unfortunately, I watch Dec for a few seconds longer and it’s enough time for us to lock eyes and the atmosphere between us charges in an instant, meaning I need to speak, to say something before I end up sprawled across the table with no thought for our fellow diners.
“How’s work, the club?” That is what I come up with as a safe topic of conversation.
His eyes darken and then he responds. “Good, work, the club, although the kitchen holds extra special memories that make it distracting to be in there,” he replies and we’re back there again. “Sorry,” he says in response to the long sigh I release.
“No, don’t be. We have a serious elephant in the room, Dec, so maybe we should address it,” I say in one huge breath, knowing that if I don’t get the words out, I am going to chicken out and still end up sprawled across the table.
“What do you want? From me?” he asks me with a huge sigh of his own as he rubs a finger across the bridge of his nose. Unfortunately, he doesn’t give me a chance to speak, he simply continues himself. “I am not Mase. I am not looking for a happy ever after and kids and stuff. I like fun and uncomplicated.”
“I see,” I reply, unsure what to say because I don’t really think that I am in a position to want the things he claims not to. He doesn’t want them, and I don’t deserve them.
“Look, Anita, I like you, I think that’s pretty clear to us both and I would like nothing more than for us to leave here together, but I don’t want to mislead you on who and what I am.”
“Man whore,” I say with a small grin tugging the corners of my mouth.
“Is that courtesy of your sister?” he asks with a small grin of his own but makes no attempt to deny it which is disappointing and reassuring at the same time.
The waiter returns to clear our plates and we both decline dessert, eager to be left alone once more to resume the conversation we’d been avoiding up until a few minutes ago.
“We could go and discuss this more, decide what the hell we want to do,” Dec suggests, and I nod, not that I know what I want or what I will accept in terms of a way forward from this awkwardness interspersed with hot sex. “Where do you live?” he asks and I realise he means going somewhere private, secluded. Somewhere with a bed, although we’ve never had a bed before, so anywhere with kitchen counters or walls is a high-risk location.
“At home, with my parents,” I admit and feel a little embarrassed that at almost twenty-four I still occupy a single bed in my parent’s box room. “But maybe somewhere private isn’t a good idea.”
“Maybe not. So, what do you want Anita, from me, us?” he asks again, without any invitation to move on now.
“Not a clue, but I like you.”
“I like you, too.” His grin broadens. “Come on.” He’s already reaching for my hand as he stands. Clearly, we’re moving on.
He throws down some cash onto the table and then we are on our way out, me trailing behind, smiling appreciatively at the sight of his glorious behind that is encased in quite tightly fitting suit trousers. My eyes lift to see the rippling muscles of his back showing through his white shirt.
“Dec, your jacket,” I say with a giggle as he spins round and dashes back to retrieve it from the back of his chair.
“See, you are sending me crazy,” he tells me as he returns, throwing his suit jacket back on before grabbing my hand again. “We can go back to mine,” he says once we exit onto the street. “I assume your parents wouldn’t thank me for coming into their home, defiling their daughter only to leave under the cover of night.”
I laugh and shake my head as I imagine my dad’s face at the reality of me having sex.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He grins leading me to his car that is parked nearby. “Are we doing this?” He pushes me back against his car, his body holding me firmly in place as his lips graze mine making me needy and desperate for more.
“I’m still not sure what we’re doing,” I reply, because I have no idea what we’re embarking on or what I am agreeing to.
“This, us,” he says with a small frown as he gazes down at me, his fingers lifting my chin so I am gazing up into his eyes. “I think we both know it’s confusing and may go horribly wrong, but I can’t get you out of my head, Cupcake.”
