by S. Van Horne
Sitting at the table of my favorite restaurant, I can’t remember a time when I felt this nervous. Not even on my wedding day.
It’s just a date, I tell myself. With an escort!
I take a deep breath and remind myself no one else knows that last little bit but me. No one ever has to know either, not even my nosey older sister, who keeps peeking her head out from the kitchen, hoping to catch a glimpse of my date. I groan loudly, fiddling with my half-empty wine glass. I should have chosen another restaurant to meet up.
I’m not worried about my plans tonight. Thanks to Jason’s advice, I’m waiting to make any decisions regarding what happens after dinner. While sex isn’t off the table, I’m opting to get to know my guy first. I don’t need to add any more pressure tonight.
Nervously adjusting the napkin in my lap once again, I’m looking down at my hands when he approaches the table.
“Camilla?” The way he says my name sends a familiar jolt of electricity through my body. Swallowing hard, I look up at him from beneath my lashes, and my heart stops in my chest. Dark chocolate eyes stare down at me, the very same eyes I secretly hoped would be the ones I’m here to meet.
“Ben?” I gasp. What is he doing here?
“How are you doing?” He looks down at me with a smirk before pulling out the chair across from me and sitting down.
“Um, I’m waiting for someone,” I tell him and quickly scan the room, hoping my date doesn’t walk up at this moment. Allowing my eyes to finally settle on him, I notice the dark suit jacket and can’t help wondering if he’s here with someone. My heart aches a little at the thought of him with someone else, but I push the feeling aside, reminding myself of the reason why I’m here.
“A date?” he asks with a teasing smile, the same one he gives me every time I see him. Sometimes I wonder if he uses it to hide a secret or something.
“Yes, a date,” I clip, not wanting to share anything more with him, wishing he’d get up and leave.
“I have a date, as well, in case you were wondering.” He leans forward, picks up my glass of wine and sniffs it, like he’s some kind of wine connoisseur. “This is a good year. I’m a beer drinker, but I can appreciate a good vintage.”
“Hm.” I sit back in my chair and take him in. Ben has been a mystery to me since the first time I saw him. But it’s his mysteriousness that draws me to him. There is something about him that always puts me at ease when I’m around him. I’ve never felt this way around another man, and it doesn’t hurt that he’s panty-melting gorgeous. But I’m here tonight for a reason, and as much as I like Ben, now is not the time to get lost in the magic of “what ifs” with him. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I really am waiting for someone.”
“Are you asking me to leave?”
“I thought you said you have a date. Won’t she be mad to find you talking with another woman?”
“I don’t know, I’ll have to ask her.”
“Ben—”
“Would you be mad if you found your date chatting with another woman?” he questions, leaning back in his chair. It’s a curious question, one that shouldn’t matter, but I give it some thought before answering.
“It depends. This being my first date with him, probably not.”
“Is this a blind date?” He raises an eyebrow, and I shrug.
“If you must know, yes, it’s a blind date.” I’m not sure what it matters, but I’m not going to give him much more information than that.
“Please tell me you know what this guy looks like, at least. What if he’s some kind of dog?”
“I don’t know what he looks like, but I’m pretty sure he isn’t a dog,” I snip, getting irritated with his line of questions.
“How do you know he hasn’t been here already?”
“Why would you say that?” I ask, but his words strike me in the gut. It’s a thought I had briefly this morning, after my confirmation call with Jason, but I pushed it aside, ignoring the way it made me doubt myself. Now, thanks to Ben, the thought is back, and this time, there is no ignoring it. I glance down at my watch. My date is fifteen minutes late.
What if Ben’s right? What if my date has already been here, saw me, and left because I didn’t meet his expectations? Can he do that? Jason never mentioned a standard for his men to date me.
“You’re taking my suggestion wrong.” He shifts forward and grabs my hand, pulling me from the disastrous thoughts now filling my head.
“What are you doing? I told you—” I try to pull my hand away from his, ignoring the tingles from his skin touching mine, but he tightens his hold, refusing to let me go.
“Cami, I’m your date,” he says quickly, and my eyes fly to his, widening at his admission.
“You’re my—”
“I’m the Louisiana Hot Link.”
CHAPTER FIVE
BEN
“YOU CAN’T BE,” CAMI WHISPERS, and her face falls. She looks at me shocked and worried, trying to piece everything together, but unable to comprehend it all.
She looks different from the woman in the library. Her hair is down, and it’s longer than I imagined, hitting her at the middle of her back. Her clothes are tighter, more revealing of her sexy body. Her strapless dress has me wishing she’d worn a sweater. From the moment I walked through the door of the restaurant and my eyes found her alone at the table, I was hard. Uncomfortably hard.
What I’ve learned in the short time I’ve known her is that I like Cami, in all shapes and forms, and seeing her tonight, her skirt showing more thigh than I’ve ever seen from her, I can’t stop thinking about those legs being wrapped around my waist as I pound into her, making her scream my name.
“Why can’t I be?” I clear my throat, shifting my body so my hard cock is hidden underneath the table.
“Because,” she says, lowering her voice to a harsh whisper and leaning forward a little. “My date is—”
“An escort?” I watch as her chest concaves with the air exiting her body because the shock of my words are almost too much for her. Cami doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who needs to pay for a date, but if there is one thing I’ve learned in this business, looks are deceiving. “I work for Jason, babe. I’m your date. Your Louisiana Hot Link.”
Her mouth flaps open and closed a few times, and she blindly blinks at me. My chest aches, and for the first time tonight, I realize I might not be what she is expecting. A divorced-father-of-two, who works too much, reads suspense thrillers, and takes women out because they pay him to. I must look like a real winner to her. I let go of her hand, suddenly very self-conscious.
“Ben—” she starts, but I stop her, unable to handle her rejection.
“Look, don’t say anything yet.” I sigh, raking my hand through my hair, thankful I didn’t use any hair product tonight. “I can see I’m not what you were expecting, so if you want, I’ll call Jason and have him schedule someone else for you.”
Mine. The thought of another man with her angers me, but I have to consider what she wants, too. We’ve never gotten to the point where I could stake a claim on her, but given the chance to ever do so, I would in a heartbeat.
I shift my body, getting ready to stand, but she reaches out and grabs my hand, keeping me in my seat. I look at her, and the moment our eyes connect, her entire demeanor changes. She relaxes, and the worry I felt vanishes.
“Stay.” Her voice is soft and gentle, but I still see confusion in her eyes.
“Cami, I’m sorry if I’m not what you expected. I don’t want to disappoint you,” I tell her honestly because it’s the last thing I want to do. “I wouldn’t have taken this appointment but Jason…” I trail off, unable to tell her why Jason really wanted me to be her date.
“Did you know it was me?”
“Yes.” I nod
“But you came anyways.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand. Why?”
“Does it bother you? Me knowing it was you tonight.” I ignore the “w
hy” because it will make things too complicated right now.
“I guess not, it’s just, I never would have thought you were—that you did this kind of thing.” I laugh lightly, watching her cheeks flush from my reaction. “I mean, not that I’m judging you or anything, but you’re a good-looking guy—”
“I shouldn’t have to escort beautiful women?”
“I didn’t mean to imply—” She slaps her hands over her mouth, making me laugh louder this time. “What you do on your dates—”
“Cami, it’s okay.” I reach across the table and grasp her hands, trying to calm her. “I take it you didn’t look over the menu?”
“I didn’t,” she breathes, her body tense and wound up. We both fall silent and sit staring at each other, trying to figure out what to do next. Being the gentleman the menu describes me as, I wait for her to decide what happens next, even though my instinct to reach across the table and kiss her senseless boils under the surface.
I hope she decides to stay, to pursue this, because I want this woman. More than any other woman I’ve ever been with. The idea of finding myself in between her glorious long legs tonight, tasting her, fucking her, had me relieving myself more than once before my arrival. Not that it helped; the tightness in my pants tells me as much.
“So, what now?” she asks, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
“It’s your call.” I can’t help the smile that slips onto my face as I imagine running my hand through her dark silky hair, gripping it at the roots for a little tug. I wonder if she’ll purr or growl from the action. She eyes me carefully, fingering her glass of wine.
“What’s your description on the menu?”
“Louisiana Hot Link. Ben, age forty-one, brown hair and brown eyes. Always the gentleman, Ben will remind you how a woman is supposed to be treated. With arms thick and strong, he’ll wrap them around you and make you feel safe and protected.”
She smiles brightly. “A gentleman?”
“I try to be.”
She lifts her glass to her lips and drains it. I glance around, looking for the waiter to refill it for her, but there is no one around. In fact, I find it odd that no one has bothered approaching for a drink order since I sat down.
“I asked them to stay away,” she explains, reading my mind. “My sister owns the place, and I asked her to make sure no one approached us unless I summoned them.”
“I see. Would you like more wine?”
She pauses, contemplating her choice.
“No,” her voice is soft, but her eyes have turned golden. “What if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?”
I lift an eyebrow, watching the way her face flushes and her chest puffs as her breathing rate increases. She’s feeling braver now.
“I can be whatever you want me to be, Cami,” I lower my voice and narrow my eyes on her, watching the way my words physically affect her. She shivers, and her nipples harden, peaking at me from underneath her dress. Her tongue flicks out and runs across her lower lip. I hold back the urge to throw her over my shoulder and carry her out of here.
CHAPTER SIX
CAMI
LORD, HELP ME, I DON’T want him to be a gentleman. We’ve been playing cat and mouse for too long, and I want to take advantage of the moment.
Yes, I was shocked to discover he was my date, that he was an escort, but I’m not unhappy about it. I’m actually excited, and for the first time since deciding to do this, I’m completely comfortable. But he’s always had this effect on me.
“How does this usually work?” I ask, suddenly wanting to skip dinner and take him to my place, and realizing the part of the evening I was most unsure about is now the one I want the most. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my insides.
It’s because it’s with him, my mind whispers, and as much as I want to deny it, I can’t. It’s true.
“Usually, dinner and then whatever a client wants.” He tilts his head and places a hand on the table next to mine. His fingers close the distance and gently stroke my fingers. “But, Cami, you are anything but usual.”
I try to hold my reaction back, but it’s difficult, especially when he says things like that.
“Are you hungry?” My heart beats wildly in my chest.
“Yes.” He smirks, and his eyes glitter at me with need. “But not for anything they serve here.”
Oh my…
I press my thighs together, trying to ignore the wetness now soaking my panties. The Ben I’ve known all along, still prominent in my head, only makes this moment even more exciting. As much as I like that Ben, I’m falling pretty quickly for this new side of him.
“Cami, do you want to get out of here?”
“Your place or mine?” I respond without hesitation.
“Yours,” he breathes, making me think about the fresh sheets I put on my bed this morning.
“Are you able to drive?” I frown, but he explains. “How much wine have you had, Cami?”
“Three glasses,” I answer, suddenly wondering if that’s why I’m feeling brave with him.
“I’ll settle the check. Leave your keys with the valet, and I’ll drive you over in the morning to get your car,” he tells me, not really giving me an option.
“Ben, I can drive.” He stands up, places both hands onto the table and leans into me. I swallow hard as the scent of him surrounds me, intoxicating me until I no longer feel the effects of the wine because I’m drunk off him and this moment.
“I want you in my truck, Cami. I want to smell you as I drive to your house. I want to see the look on your face when you think about the things I’m going to do to you. I want to reach across and touch you.” I squirm in my seat, no longer worried about the people around us or even my nosey sister watching us from the kitchen. He chuckles throatily and offers me his hand. “Good, now stand up, and let’s get out of here.”
I take his hand and stand. His jaw tightens as he takes in the sight of me in my new strapless mini dress and fuck-me heels. I’m tall, especially in these heels, but the man in front of me makes me feel tiny and delicate. I let him take all of what I have to offer in, enjoying the effect it has on him.
“Fuck, Cami, what you are wearing?” He steps in front of me, placing himself between me and the rest of the room. His eyes narrow on me, and he reaches down to adjust himself. I can’t help it; my eyes travel down the length of his body, stopping at his hard cock. A chill runs through my body knowing I’m the cause of it.
“Too much, if you really want to know,” I laugh and move around him. He places a hand on my waist and follows close behind me. I stop in my tracks and feel the brush of his hard on against my ass when he tries not to ram into me. “We both are.”
I hear him groan and smile inwardly. Score one for the librarian.
He follows me to the hostess, where he settles the bill. Hand in hand, we leave the restaurant, and I give my ticket to the valet, quickly explaining what the plan is. I also send a text to my sister, telling her I’ll stop by in the morning for my car. I already know the barrage of messages I’ll likely wake up to. She’ll want a full report. After all, it isn’t every day her baby sister meets a date at her restaurant and leaves without eating.
Ben leads me into the parking lot, and I spot his truck immediately. It stands out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of luxury vehicles. We barely make it to the truck before he grabs me, spins us both, and pins me against the passenger side.
His hands cup my face a second before his lips find mine, and a hungry growl emanates from his chest. It’s a demanding kiss, one meant to mark and claim. I open my mouth, pushing my tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss, moaning over his minty taste.
I lift my hands and push aside his suit jacket to find the soft fabric of his button-up shirt. I shiver, picturing what the muscle underneath my fingers looks like, needing to feel the heat of his skin pressed against me. He lets the jacket slide off him and to the ground.
One less piece to remove later, I think as hi
s hands release my face and make their way slowly down my body until his fingers brush against my naked thigh. He hooks one hand under my knee, and his other holds at my waist. I hike my leg up, instinctively wrapping it around him, granting him further access while he pushes up my skirt. He settles himself in between my legs and surges toward me, grinding his hard, hot length against me.
“Fuck,” I moan, enjoying the feeling of him.
“Babe…” He pulls away, leaving me gasping for breath. He places his forehead on mine, his hands still holding my body tightly. “Need to get you home.”
I respond by pushing my hips into him, grinding even harder against his cock. I need him just as bad.
“So, get me home.”
He groans and reluctantly pushes off me. When he opens his eyes and finally looks down at me, I see desire burning there. The same desire I feel burning throughout my body.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BEN
THE DRIVE TO HER HOUSE is excruciating. More so because of the faces she makes, when her eyes dart from me to the road. I know what she’s thinking. What she’s picturing. Because I’m thinking the same.
The kiss isn’t something I planned. It was something I needed. It was the kind of kiss that told me everything I need to know about the woman sitting next to me and the dynamite night we are bound to have. I can still taste her cherry-flavored lip-gloss.
She directs me to her house with ease, and it surprises me to find out how close we live to one another. The world keeps getting smaller and smaller. Her bungalow is similar to my own.
“This is me,” she breathes, and I pull into the driveway. I put the truck in park and look over at her. She’s nervous. More than she was earlier at the restaurant.
“We don’t have to do this, Cami.” I turn toward her, reaching for a hand and giving it a little squeeze. “I’ll take you back to your car.”
