Page 40 of Dirty Little Virgin
“Good morning, ma’am,” I call back to her. “Might I take that booth over there? The view’s lovely out these picture windows.”
“Sure, sit anywhere you’d like,” she says as she grabs a couple of menus and wipes them down with a rag she’s pulled out of her apron pocket. “You from London?”
“North Wales, actually. Contrary to popular opinion, all Brits do not reside in London. And have you always lived here in Pecan Grove?”
“Born and raised. My father opened this café when I was a little kid. I’ve worked here since I could walk. Can I get you some coffee?”
I inwardly applaud myself for being so insightful about the woman being a staple here. “Coffee would be nice. Bring me two of them. My, um, my …” I have no idea what to call Pierce. “My friend is outside on the phone. Bring him one too. And please bring cream and sugar as well.”
“I’ll get those for you while you look over our menu,” she tells me, then turns to leave.
The vast assortment of breakfast foods is astonishing. Crepes in all kinds of flavors fill an entire section. Waffles, pancakes, pigs in a blanket, and omelets of all types are on the menu.
“It’s impossible to pick one,” I mutter to myself as the waitress comes back with the coffees.
“I heard you having difficulty with the menu. Would you like to know what Old Bob’s specialty is?” she asks me with a wink.
“I’d love that,” I say as I put the menu down.
“He makes a mean Denver omelet. And on the side are some downhome cooked hash browns along with some mile-high homemade biscuits. You can even have a small bowl of gravy to dip them in, if you’d like. I like to round the meal out with a bowl of fresh fruit on top of vanilla yogurt. Does any of that sound good to you?”
“All of it does. Can you bring two orders of all that?” I hand her the menus back, and she gives me a smile. Her nametag reads Delores, so I add, “And thank you very much, Delores. My name’s Jade Thomas; it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I reach out, and she shakes my hand. “It’s not often a customer introduces themselves to me, Jade. It’s refreshing. I’ll make sure it all comes out real special. I can see you want to impress that handsome friend of yours.”
I follow her eyes as she looks out the window. Pierce is still on his cell talking away, but looking at me as he stands on the sidewalk. “He is handsome, isn’t he?”
“He is, and he has eyes for you, my dear. Let me get cracking on this order. I’ll hurry it up for you.”
Pierce and I look at one another with the window between us. He’s smiling a bit, and then he gives me a thumbs up and ends the call, coming inside.
Hurrying to wipe away the damn tears that’ve sprung up, I try to push the thoughts of this ending out of my head so we can enjoy this breakfast that I pray is delicious. It’s not as if I’ve cooked it, but I feel the same pressure to make sure it’s good for him.
I have no idea how I made that a priority so quickly. It’s never entered my head to make sure anyone’s meal is as close to perfect as it can get. I’ve never cared what anyone thinks about what I wear or how my hair looks. So why did it all spring to life in me when I met Pierce?
Is it his natural dominating character that has me not only bending to his will but catering to him because I want to? Do I really want to be doing this? Acting this way? Or is it a subtle mind game he’s learned to play masterfully?
He slides into the booth on the opposite side and reaches out, taking both my hands and smiling like crazy at me. “You looked so pretty sitting here all alone. I imagined seeing you for the first time right here. Funny, huh?”
“I guess so,” I say, as I find it odd that he’d imagine something like that. “Pierce, have you always had the ability to make women do things they shouldn’t find pleasure in? Things like getting spanked, making meals, bathing you.”
“No,” he says with a shrug. “My only relationships had the women doing as they wished and none wished to do things for me. And I wasn’t into BDSM back then. I couldn’t tell you if they’d like to be handled the way I handle women now. And how are you feeling about being tied up today?”
“Honestly?” I ask him, and he nods. “Pierce, I find it more enjoyable than I thought I would. I want to feel your hands wrap the rope around my arms and legs and haul me into the air, suspending me over the wood floor of the playroom. Does that make me immoral?”
“Not at all,” he says as he shakes his head. “It makes you in touch with your true feelings. You’re not denying things because of what you’ve been taught is wrong or immoral. Yes, if things of that nature were done against your will, then that would definitely be wrong. But with your consent, then there’s nothing wrong with it, and it expands you as a person. You’ll see what I’m talking about. And we can go slowly. Just know that.”
Delores comes to us with gorgeous bowls of fresh fruit. “This should tide you kids over while the other food cooks. Can I get you some glasses of water?”
Pierce smiles at her. “That would be great. This looks amazing. Thank you.”
She places the bowls in front of us, then places a couple of gold linen napkins with silverware stored inside of them. “I’ll be right back with that and freshen up your coffees as well.”
“Thank you, Delores,” I say, sending her on her way.
Pierce reaches across the table with one hand, and I take it. “This is one of my favorite things to eat, Jade. You have an intuition about you that’s special.”
I nod and look down as I admit, “The waitress suggested everything. I didn’t do a thing but agree.”
