by L. L. Ash
Freddie just nodded, pointing at Steve with wide eyes, as if he couldn’t agree more.
I pulled a glove and threw it at him.
He ducked and dodged just as my client walked in.
“Watch yourself, fucker.” I pointed at him with a scowl accompanied by an unfortunate smile.
These guys loved to give me shit, and damn if I didn’t know that meant they loved me, too.
I pulled into the parking lot of her condo five minutes early, like the eager little beaver-eater I was.
Eventually, when we got to that point, that was probably the thing I was looking forward to the most. I wanted to get my lips on that amazing, pink pussy like a fucking drug addict wanted their next fix.
But it had to wait.
It was date number two and I had a three date minimum. Usually. But for Fae? Definitely a three date minimum. I can’t have her seeing me like all those other guys that wanted her for her body. I wanted her to know that I want her. All of her. I wanted her mind, her humor, her sass and her sweetness.
Even just walking up the stairs, I was fucking sweating and breathing heavy like a fat kid in gym class. Who cares that I could run five miles in one session, or that I could deadlift almost four hundred pounds? In the space of moments, I was practically blacking out with eagerness to get to this woman.
When I got to the door, I looked at my phone and saw that I was still fucking five minutes early.
I pressed my forehead on the door, then fell forward as the door disappeared from under me.
Fucking awesome first impression, Rome.
God…
“Hey!” Fae grinned as I stumbled on my own feet. “I heard your motorcycle.”
Of course she did. The thing can be heard from blocks away.
“Uh, yeah.” I grinned, feeling like an idiot.
That’s when my eyes finally registered what she was wearing.
Her body was swathed in this slinky, swaying fabric in emerald green, black heels on her feet.
Oh yeah. Nice dinner. That’s why I was dressed in slacks and a blue button up under my jacket.
“Should I bring my jacket?” she asked me, staring into eyes, where she was probably getting a blank reflection.
Fuck, get a grip, man!
“Uh, yeah. That’s a good idea.”
Seriously, this woman made me go stupid.
She grinned in amusement as she walked back into her house and retrieved her jacket.
After locking up, Fae followed me to my bike where she tucked her dress around her thighs and slipped her helmet on like a pro.
I should get a car. This woman deserved to be taken on a date in a fancy as fuck car like what Ryan had.
Mentally shelving that thought to do over the weekend with the ridiculously huge stash of cash in my savings, I pulled my helmet on and we were off.
I drove us into the city, parking in the lot of one of the nicest restaurants in the state. Dad owned it, of course, but that didn’t change the fact that their food was amazing and the views of the Sound were even better.
I helped Fae off the bike, trying my best to assist as she untucked her dress from around herself without flashing everyone in the parking lot.
Yeah. I’ll definitely be getting that car.
“I love this place,” Fae smiled at me as we approached the front door, slipping her small, warm hand into mine.
“You been here?” I asked her.
“Once. On my mom’s birthday. My dad tries to spoil her on her birthday.”
The horrible, rotten taste I had for her parents got just a little less sour at the revelation. Maybe they weren’t out to ruin their daughter’s life. Maybe they just didn’t know how to let her live her own life, like my own dad.
Inside, the hostess smiled at us and said, “Right this way Mr. Smith.”
She led us back immediately as Fae looked at me with surprise.
I didn’t come here often on my own, but they knew who I was because of the meals I shared with Dad at our special table on the balcony. The same balcony I’d reserved just for the two of us.
Seated on our lookout over the ocean, Fae and I looked at each other over the stark white tablecloth, gently swaying in the ocean breeze.
“So this is pretty nice.” Fae wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Hope you didn’t break the piggy bank to take me here.”
“Wow.” I grinned at her, fingering the white linen napkin on top of my charger plate. “I don’t know whether to laugh or be insulted.”
“The former,” she shrugged. “But I’m not the kind of girl you have to impress with money. I’m sure you do well. I mean, you own your own business. But money isn’t...this isn’t what I love, you know? You could’ve just taken me on a picnic and I’d be just as happy. Although this view is gorgeous.”
My chest warmed at her words. She had no fucking idea how wealthy I was, and I’d keep it that way for as long as I could. I loved that she liked me despite my inked skin and generally coarse personality. I liked that she appreciated me for who I was, as an artist and as a man, not as an ATM machine.
While it’s true, I made a great living being a desired tattoo artist, what was really impressive was the fucking ginormous nest egg my grandfather had left me when he died. Of course, that was when I was going to school to learn how to take over the company. So maybe he wouldn’t have left it to me if he knew what I did for a living now.
My father was just one in the long, long list of real estate developers in our family. They owned bits and pieces all over the country, but my father, while still siphoning money in from their previous projects, owned probably a quarter of Washington state. The man owned malls, housing developments, restaurants, even some private schools and other...well, other things you didn’t know you could own.
It was all legal...barely. But nobody was going to jail and the money wasn’t bloody. It was earned, even if over the backs of others.
Gramps was a bit of a wildcard with a short fuse. He didn't mind pissing people off, while my dad was a perfect gentleman, winning people over with his charm instead of a firm hand.
“So you had another day off?” Fae asked, jerking me out of my thoughts. “You made it sound like you never get time off.”
‘Cause I didn’t. I’d had to close early to make this date, but I didn’t want to take her out on another late night party hop. She deserved to be wined, dined, and shown a good time.
And I intended to do that tonight. I wanted to show her another part of me, not just the rough tattoo artist side.
Fuck...I was starting to sound like my father.
“I made the time,” I admitted to her. “You’re worth making time for, you know.”
She grinned.
“Well don’t I feel flattered.” She winked at me as our waiter welcomed us to the restaurant and asked what wine we’d like.
I’d opted for whiskey instead, just two fingers, while Fae agreed to try their house wine, bottled by one of the family vineyards.
That’s right.
One. Of.
“Roman?” A familiar voice broke the soft silence between us.
I turned and saw none other than my very own dad coming into the secluded balcony.
“Well damn! I asked for my regular table and they told me you were here. Didn’t mention you were on a date. Hello, darling, I’m John, Roman’s dad.”
Chapter Ten
Fae
“Hello, darling, I’m John, Roman’s dad.”
Roman’s dad?
I looked at this man, wearing some kind of designer suit, even nicer than the ones my own dad wore, and that’s saying something.
Roman came from money? Maybe that’s what this whole restaurant charade was about.
His words flung back at me and I remembered him talking about how he knew what it was like to disappoint a parent with personal dreams and ambitions. He’d grown up in a similar household, been told to uphold the family name, to go do a specific job.
That’s
why Roman understood me. That’s why being with him felt like my heartbeat was echoing with his. We were like two pieces of the same person. Only he was the better, stronger half.
The thought left me breathless, so as I put out my hand to take the extended one his father offered, I couldn’t greet the man back.
“Fae Weston,” Roman told his dad. “And yeah, we’re on a date.”
John beamed in....maybe it was excitement, or happiness. I couldn’t be sure exactly which.
“Well I’m just tickled to meet you, honey. Rome has told me so much about you!”
I took in the grin that spread across John’s face, a replica of his son’s, easing his sixty or so year old face to look probably an entire decade younger. He looked youthful and exuberant, and honesty radiated from him.
I liked him instantly.
“It’s nice to meet you, John.” I smiled back up at him. “I can’t believe Roman has mentioned me to you.”
John rolled his eyes.
“Every damn time we’re on a phone call. Boy won’t shut up about you.”
Really? We’d only started dating weeks ago.
I looked to Roman and noticed the bright blush creeping up his cheeks at his father’s revelation.
It set off the pixie in me, and I wanted more.
“Well, I don’t want to interrupt your dinner. I’ll just find a different table so you two can enjoy the balcony.”
As Roman started saying goodbye, I slipped right in there with my sudden, rash invitation.
“Why don’t you join us?” I asked him. “There’s more than enough room. We’ll just get another chair up here. I’d love to get to know you a little, and I’m sure Roman won’t mind.”
A groan seeped out of Roman’s throat as he dropped his head to his hand, elbow propped up on the table as his fingers speared into his hair.
“Oh, well, if you don’t mind...” John looked to his son.
Roman looked skyward and sighed, then stood out of his seat and motioned for his dad to sit.
“You sure you don’t mind, Rome?” he asked again, obviously seeing the hesitance in Roman’s body language.
“Just stop saying fucking embarrassing shit and we’ll be fine,” he told his dad before taking the drinks from the waiter who showed up, looking confused.
“Another chair, if you don’t mind,” he said, settling my wine glass in front of me before dropping his entire glass down his throat.
“Language, Rome!” John’s eyes widened at his son’s deplorable behavior before looking at me apologetically.
“You mean he doesn’t cuss like a sailor at home?” I asked John who laughed quietly.
“The boy has always cussed like a sailor. I’d just hoped he spared his dates.”
Roman’s lips quirked into a little smile as a chair arrived.
He took it and slipped it right next to mine, sitting between me and his father.
“You complaining?” he asked me as he motioned to the waiter for more whiskey.
John asked for the same before turning back to us, awaiting my answer to Roman’s question.
“No. I like it.” I shrugged, knowing I was blushing again.
“Mhmm...” Roman’s eyes narrowed on me with a smirk before turning back to his dad. “So how’s work?”
John shrugged.
“Same as always. Been working on a few developments. Need to talk to my lawyers to get all the paperwork signed with the city before we can begin building.”
Roman nodded.
“Well Fae’s a lawyer. Maybe she can advise you.”
“Oh, I don't know anything about real estate law.” I blanched, somehow feeling like I was being thrown under the bus by my date.
“A lawyer?” John asked, ignoring my statement. “Wow! I couldn’t imagine sitting through all those classes of law and rules...”
I nodded.
“It took...fortitude. Though I’m not technically a lawyer yet,” I told him quietly.
“Oh I’m sure it did! I’m sure I’d have slept through half the classes. College was never my thing.”
“Yet you made me go.” Roman eyed his dad with a half smile on his face, his arm snaking around my shoulders and resting across the back of my chair.
“Mhm,” John gave him a deadpan look right back.
So Roman got his humor from his dad.
Chuckling, Roman’s arm tightened around my shoulder for a moment before he sighed, speaking again.
“Although I’ve been trying to convince Fae to become a baker instead. She’s really talented.”
“Oh really?” John’s eyes flared in curiosity. “Baking?”
God, Roman really knew how to embarrass me.
“Oh, it’s just a silly hobby.” I shrugged.
“Hm, I’d like to believe you, but Roman doesn’t give out compliments easily, nor does he give out endorsements. And I’ve been sitting here for a grand total of three minutes and you’ve already received both.”
My heart beat faster and my chest grew tight.
I didn’t know what to say to that.
“Wow Dad. Way to paint me in the best light possible,” Roman bantered with his father.
“Hey, you can blame your grandfather for the tight-ass genes. You certainly didn’t get them from me.”
Roman rolled his eyes.
His hand dropped off the back of my chair and I felt a fluttering against my leg before his hand lightly gripped my thigh next to him.
I was pretty much instantly wet, even though his hand was closer to my knee than anything exciting. Just his touch was sending pulses and waves of electricity through me at lightning speed.
The waiter came back, and we all ordered. Roman and John got the same, a kobe filet mignon with a Main lobster tail on top. They laughed over it, then bantered for a while as I listened.
John Smith might have a ridiculously generic name, but he was one of the most interesting people I’d ever met.
He was a real estate developer, which I guess explained his nice suit. While talk of the tattoo shop never came up, John did tease Roman about dressing up, then asked him when he’d shave his hair off.
I came to his rescue, insisting that I refused to let him cut his hair and it earned me a thigh squeeze.
When our food came, that hand left my leg as we all ate, and I missed the contact. So while I ate my Chilean sea bass, I let my fingers run over the silky fabric of his slacks, doing my own little grip thing on his thigh.
He fidgeted once, twice, each time I squeezed. The power I had over him flooding my head, making me almost delirious with it. His pants got tighter, evidenced by the lack of give the fabric now had, and that made me feel even better. Stronger.
By the time we were done eating, Roman took my hand from his thigh, lifted it from under the table and pressed a kiss to the back of it before clutching it on top of the table.
His desperate act made me grin as they talked about the quality of meat and the ridiculousness of flying lobster across the country, so it was fresh every day.
At the end of dinner, Roman slipped a card into the little black book the waiter brought before waving at his dad.
“It’s a date remember?” he asked his dad, who scowled at him.
“Pretty sure you don’t want to be dating your father, kiddo.”
Roman rolled his eyes and chuckled as John stood.
“Well, now that my stomach is full, I’ll leave you to the rest of your evening. Pretty sure you weren’t planning on spending your nice night out with an oldie like me. It was so incredibly nice to meet you and get to know you, Fae.”
I gave him my hand again, but he kissed it this time instead of shaking.
“I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you too, Mr. Smith. I’m glad you joined us.”
“Well, that makes two of us,” he bounced his eyebrows.
Hm, got that from his dad, too.
“Get lost, Dad!” Roman told his father, waving him off. “We’ll have our regular lunch
next week.”
John nodded and waved, slipping down the stairs.
“I like your dad.” I grinned at Roman now that we were alone.
“He’s...a character.” Roman nodded, pushing his fingers through his hair again, scooping a few loose strands back into his top knot.
“You guys are actually a lot alike.” I laughed. “I loved listening to you give each other crap all evening.”
“I’d have rather talked with you,” he said simply, that quickly, turning the moment from jovial to intense and sensual.
“The night is still young,” I told him, feeling my heart rate pick up. “There’s still plenty of time to ‘get to know’ each other.”
He grinned and leaned down, kissing me slowly as the waiter appeared again and left the little black book on the table again.
Seeing himself out, he left us to kiss with the weak light of night filtering over the water.
“I want to show you something,” he whispered against my mouth, pulling his lips away from mine.
The loss of connection was almost painful.
“Ok,” I breathed back, standing when he did.
Roman pulled out two twenties and tossed them on the table before heading down the stairs, snatching his credit card out of the black book on the way, leaving the receipt behind.
Sexual energy radiated between us as we climbed back onto his motorcycle, my crotch tucked against his butt, my arms holding tight around his firm abs.
We didn’t drive for long, taking a winding path down to a patch of rocky beach right off the water. He parked next to the water, ignoring signs that told us to park and walk from the concrete lot a couple hundred yards back.
The moon was trapped and hidden behind thick cloud coverage, but enough light filtered through to glitter like diamonds on the water. The scene was a series of shadows, shapes and textures between the foliage, rocks and gentle, shushing waves breaking on the beach beside us.
“This is nice,” I told him, settling my helmet in the pack just behind me on his bike.
He took his helmet off next and settled it upside down on the grass beneath the tires before reaching around and slipping his arm around my waist.
Before I knew it, I was swinging over the seat, settled into his lap, back pressed against the handlebars as his lips met mine with a consuming passion.
