Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
"Are you wearing panties?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied, her cheeks becoming rosy.
“Take them off and give them to me,” I instructed, holding my hand out.
She wanted to say something, but she clamped her mouth shut instead and wordlessly pulled them off. Looking me in the eyes she dropped them into the palm of my hand. I stuffed them into my jacket pocket.
“Shall we?” I said, indicating we should leave.
We never spoke as we made our way to the restaurant. We were shown to a nice table in an alcove that looked out to a well-lit Japanese garden. I ordered a bottle of champagne. A waiter came back surprisingly fast. He carefully filled our flutes and withdrew.
I raised my glass to her.
“What are we celebrating?” she asked quietly.
I smiled slowly at her. “We’re celebrating us.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Us? Is there an us?”
I nodded. “There is an us. I’ll show you later.”
We clinked glasses.
“To us,” I murmured.
“To us,” she echoed.
I jerked my head towards the menu. "What are you having?"
She shrugged. "Maybe the Caesar salad.”
I shook my head. “No, you’re not having the Caesar Salad. You didn’t have lunch. You must eat something more substantial tonight.”
She frowned. “How do you know I didn’t have lunch?”
I took a sip of my champagne, feeling myself relax and enjoy the present. “I’ve had my evil eye on you all day, little Lillian. All day, I watched you go about your business with that little butterfly stuck to your pretty pussy.
She swallowed hard.
“Do you like steak?”
She nodded.
“Excellent. They do good steaks here.”
When the waiter returned, we gave him our order and he withdrew, finally leaving us alone.
"Tell me about you." Usually, when I was out on a date and I asked this question, I didn't really care for the answer. It was just a way to pass the time until we got to the main reason why we were having dinner together. This time though, I found myself interested in what Lillian had to say.
"There’s not much to tell. I lost my father several years ago, but my mom is still alive and well, and my sister is married with twin girls.”
“You’ve just told me about your family. Tell me about you, Lillian. What do you love?”
“I love children,” she blurted out, then immediately looked uncomfortable.
I stared at her. Clearly, she hadn’t meant to share that bit of info, and looking at her now, sophisticated and sexy in her black dress, you couldn’t imagine her as anybody’s mother, but for some strange reason I knew without a shred of doubt she would make a wonderful mother. I shook my head in surprise at that thought. Where the fuck had that come from, and what made me an expert on Lillian?
“And you? You’re an only child, aren’t you?” she countered, smoothly turning the tables on me.
“Yes,” I replied.
She sipped her champagne and set the glass back down. "Did you ever long for siblings when you were growing up?"
I shook my head. "No." My voice was flat and unencouraging. I was unused to anyone probing into my private life.
My parents never had time for me when I was a kid. My father's first love had always been business, and my mother's was socializing and shopping. I always wondered why they bothered having a child, but I suppose it was something to do. In a way, I was glad they hadn't had another child to feel as unwanted and unloved as I had felt growing up. I’d never spoken about any of this to anyone and I wasn't about to start now.
I was relieved when the waiter returned with our food and I could move us on to more cheerful topics, like what I was going to do to her tonight.
“When we get back upstairs, I want you to get on the bed and open your legs as wide as you can for me. Can you do that?”
Her gaze bounced around the room, then she swallowed the food in her mouth, and nodded.
Chapter 18
Lillian
Ibarely ate my dinner while Max cleaned his plate.
I may be inexperienced, but I sure as hell knew what it meant to share a hotel suite with my boss.
How could he be so irritatingly relaxed? As soon as the question formed, the answer quickly followed. This was his lifestyle. There was no point in fooling myself that I was special. That I was the first woman he had flown by private jet to spend a weekend in a new city.
My spirits plummeted, but I quickly told myself to stop being silly. Wasn’t I using him for sexual gratification too? I wasn’t interested in Max beyond the satisfaction he could give me in bed. I knew what I was getting myself into when I laid down on his splendid bed and did what I did.
I sat with my legs squeezed tightly together to ease the ache that had taken permanent residence between my naked legs.