Page 34 of Inferno

The whole restaurant has an intimate, romantic vibe, and after parking my car in the lot, I rush to open his door andtake his hand, gripping his fingers tightly in mine. It may seem like a thoughtful gesture, but honestly, I’m just making sure he doesn’t have an opportunity to run from me. If he did, I’d be forced to chase him, and although this town will put up with a lot of crazy behavior in the name of love, I’m not sure chasing a guy down and tackling him to the ground would seem quite as cute as a Barnett declaring their love within moments of meeting someone.

Tightening my grip on his hand, I lead him into the restaurant. When the hostess asks us if we’d like to eat outside, I immediately agree, towing Henry through the maze of tables and out onto the warmly lit patio.

When I turn to glance at my boy, his cheeks are pink, and his gaze is almost entirely focused on his well-worn sneakers. I’m not sure if it’s the restaurant, the romantic setting, or the fact that I’m still holding his hand that is embarrassing him, but he looks fucking adorable.

“Can I get you some drinks to start?” a perky waitress asks as she hands us menus and pulls out a tablet ready to take our order.

“What do you want to drink, Kitten?”

His blush deepens, and he sinks into his chair. “Soda, Coke if you have it, please.”

“A soda and a beer, please,” I tell the waitress, who nods and taps the screen on her tablet. “I’ll go and grab those for you, then I’ll take your food order when I get back.”

“What sounds good?” I ask Henry as he hides his face behind the menu.

“It all sounds delicious,” he says quietly.

“Do you like seafood?” I ask.

“I had prawns once, they were good,” he admits quietly, still using the menu as an excuse not to look at me.

“Henry, I’ve told you before that I expect you to look at me when we’re speaking,” I say, allowing a hint of demand to slip into my words.

He responds beautifully, lowering the menu to the table, then coyly looking up at me from beneath his lashes.

“Good boy,” I praise, enjoying the involuntary shudder of pleasure that rolls through him. “Have you ever tried lobster?”

He shakes his head.

“Would you like to order a few things to share?”

“Oh, I,” he starts, then trails off.

“We could get a few appetizers too, then you can pick at what you like and leave what you don’t,” I say, wanting to spoil him.

“I don’t.” His gaze dips to the menu, then to me again.

“I’m not letting you pay, Boy.”

“But you?—”

I cut him off. “I asked you to dinner. I’m paying. If you’d rather order your own dish, I won’t be upset.”

“No,” he blurts. “Sharing…I’d like to do what you said.”

I don’t know why I like his discomfort so much. I don’t want him to feel awkward, but keeping him off-kilter and adorably ruffled is exhilarating. Once he’s a little more comfortable with me, he’ll enjoy this game too. But for now, I need to be careful to keep him on edge but not push him over it.

I also want to indulge him, to spoil him, and treat him like the perfect fucking man he is. He’s mine, and once he gives himself over to me, I’ll show him just how much I’ll pamper and adore him. I’ll give him the fucking world, and all he has to give me is him.

Sitting here like this, I can imagine our future together. Me picking him up from work and taking him to dinner. The entire night will be foreplay, a tease. I’ll order for him, knowing without having to ask what he’ll want to eat and drink. After dinner, I’ll send him to the bathroom with the plug I want him to wear,then watch him squirm while he sits opposite me, his ass full, his sensitive prostate being teased with every breath he takes.

I’ll control him, but he’ll love it, secure in my love, insulated from the worst parts of the world, sheltered and consumed by me.

I blink back to reality when the bouncy server arrives at our table again.

“Are you ready to order?” she asks.

“Yes, thank you,” I say, then proceed to order half the menu. Instead of looking shocked, the server eyes me, then licks her lips flirtatiously. I’m not sure if she didn’t see me coming in holding Henry’s hand or if she somehow thinks I’ll suddenly drop my date and leave with her. But either way, I ignore her behavior, handing her back the menu and turning to look at Henry, smiling at his visible shock.

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