Page 6 of The First Deal

I had been stewing with each passing minute waiting for his return, wondering what was so important that he had to answer his phone in the first place. Sure, he was a big shot, but he had also made a point of telling me that hechosewhen he would work. He had the perfect work-life balance. Yet, here he was, making me look like I had been stood up or abandoned in a fancy restaurant after I had travelled all this way. Sure, it was at his expense, but I was feeling embarrassed.

“How are you going to do that?” I replied flatly, my face a blank mask void of all emotion, a far cry from the face he had seen before he had walked off.

The corner of Shane’s lips twitched, lifting higher as the seconds passed between us, his eyes raking over me predatorily, just like they had back at the bar when he had come to check out my boss’s man.

“Well?” I asked, tilting my head to one side, picking up my knife and fork once more, and proceeding to cut myself another piece of pizza.

“Did I tell you that you look delicious?” he asked.

“Yes.” I barely glanced his way as I focused on my meal and waited for the big gesture that might redeem him.

He nodded. “Well, I meant it. In fact, Cariño, you look even tastier than this meal.” He gestured to his plate just as I pulled my fork from between my teeth and met his gaze.

Shane sat back in his chair, his finger resting just above his upper lip, thumb tucked beneath his chin. Shit, he looked hot like that, all deep in thought, and those thoughts were written so clearly across his face. Deep in his eyes. Filthy images scrawled in temptingly red ink. “I think I’ll skip to dessert.”

“So that we can leave, and you can do what, Mr Hudson? Fuck me in the back of your car while Bo tries to ignore how loud I moan? I don’t think so. I came for a meal, I’m having a meal, and you can find another way to make it up to me.” I inhaled slowly through my nose as I tore my gaze away from his, focusing on my hands, ensuring they didn’t shake as I let the words hang in the air between us.

I needed him to speak. Especially because a fucking massive part of me did want to skip to dessert, get out of here, and ride his dick like I was trying to win a goddamn prize. But I was a stubborn bitch, and I wasn’t going to give in and let him treat me like I was a desperate slut. Also, why should he get anything out of his ‘apology’?

I made a decision then and there that Shane Hudson’s cock would not make an appearance tonight. No matter how badly I wanted it.

“That wasn’t my intention at all,” Shane said softly. “I’m not the type of man to apologise with his cock.”

“No?” I asked, but it wasn’t really a question. I looked up to see him shaking his head, but that dark look was still in his eyes. “Excuse me, I need to use the ladies’ room.”

I placed my knife and fork down while Shane directed me to the bathroom, then got up, smoothed down my dress, and slowly walked away, making sure to tempt him with the sway of my ass. Cockily, I didn’t bother to look back.

Once inside the ladies’ room though, I dropped my mask. My fingers trembled, and I stared in the mirror, attempting to compose myself, questioning whether I was even going to go back out into the restaurant.

The urge to walk out the front door, get in the waiting car, and just go home was so strong. But there was another side of me that wanted to stay. Sure, it wasn’t the best start, but up until that point, I had thought our date to be a success. I liked him, not just for how he looked, but for how he made me feel, even just talking.

So, straightening my spine and putting on a fresh smile, I left the bathroom and went back to the table.

Only to find that Shane wasn’t there. His meal, untouched, remained on the table opposite my almost-finished pizza. His glass was empty and mine had been refilled, delicious red wine filling half of the glass.

Reasoning that he might have gone to the bathroom himself, I pulled out my chair and sat back down. My legs got twisted up in the far-too-long tablecloth as I scooted my chair forward and I groaned irritably as I adjusted the fabric, then turned my gaze to the men’s bathroom door and began to shovel the last of my pizza into my mouth.

I finished it, and Diane came over to take my plate, asking if Mr Hudson was returning. Unsure and pissed off, I told her that he wouldn’t be coming back, and she took his untouched plate away, returning a few moments later with a ‘complimentary’ dessert and a pitying look on her face.

I hated that look, but I wasn’t going to bother speaking up to tell her that I was fine—a lie—or that he was a dick. Instead, I swirled my spoon around the edge of the bowl of gelato and started to eat my pity pudding for one.

My knee bumped something as I attempted to cross my legs, and then I was almost jumping out of my seat as the tablecloth moved, and two hands wrapped around my calves.

Frozen in my chair, I swallowed down the scream that wanted to leave my throat. Then I was being pulled closer and the hands began to travel. Hands that had cold rings on many of the fingers. Huge hands. Firm grip.

I was almost certain that they were his, and I felt my body start to relax, but I needed to be sure, because if I was wrong, I was going to have to run.

“Mr Hudson?” I whispered.

“Yes, Cariño,” he replied, muffled and quiet, barely audible through the wooden table and thick white cloth hiding him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

His hold on my legs loosened and his fingers began to slide upwards, slipping under the hem of my dress, up my inner thighs, pushing as they travelled, spreading my legs until my knee knocked on what I was sure was a table leg.

“I told you, I don’t apologise with my cock,” he murmured.

Resting my elbows on the table, I swirled my spoon in my dessert again. Shane’s fingers had stopped not even an inch from my pussy, my bare fucking pussy, because this dress was not the type you could wear anything with. No bra, no panties, just black silk clinging to my curves.

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