by Rowena
Watch it. You’ve gone this long without admitting it. To her and to yourself.
“You’re right,” I say brightly. “Even if you dressed down, I’d still see your beauty, so go on and dress however you feel.”
“Thank you for giving me permission to wear whatever the hell I want.”
“You sure have a mouth on you,” I say in a warning tone. Stop right there. “I’d like to see it put to other uses.”
She gives me a cross look.
“Like singing. What? What were you thinking? I want to hear you sing sometime, Kiki—get your head out of the gutter.” I shake my head disapprovingly. “And I’m supposed to be saving this for later, but I’m curious—how did you get discovered? How did I not know about this talent of yours?”
“Well, you knew me—I wasn’t trying to get noticed or anything. But you wouldn’t believe this—I finally agreed to go out with a friend to some seedy bar, and she eventually convinced me to do a karaoke song. It just so happened that in that bar was a guy who would alter the course of my life. He introduced himself to me and it took a hell of a lot of convincing, but he proved to me he really did work in the industry. Meanwhile, I was suddenly feeling inspired and put up a few Muddy Waters covers on YouTune, and combined with that and this guy’s connections, I started to get offers. I thought I’d end up being the voice while they picked a hotter chick to pretend to own it or something, but I guess everyone figured they could work with me and they spruced me up.” She fans her hands out. “So here we are.”
I can’t help but think this is fate, and it might sound delusional, but what happened to her since that karaoke night led to her return to my radar; in fact, the day before my brother pointed her out on my screen, my mind had suddenly returned to her, and I sadly wondered where she was and how my life would’ve been different had she been in it.
“What about you?” she asks. “How did you get...” Her pretty brown eyes glance around the limo, “...here? When did all of this...” She indicates my crisp black evening wear, “...happen?”
“Tech,” I say with a casual shrug, keeping my eyes on her cute, overly made-up face.
It’s hard not to allow myself to take in such a treat before me, and she obviously took care to serve it up to me.
As a deliberate tease maybe?
It tickles me to think she might be trying to get back at me a little, show me what I missed.
I want to warn her again that it’s not a good idea to tease me, especially in a space this small with doors that lock on my command.
“Of course,” she says with a slight roll of her eyes. “So what was it—some ride-share company? A social media platform? A hookup app or BNB couch-surfing thingamajig?”
“A photo-related app that I sold to a social media giant.”
She nods. “Well, no surprise, I guess. You were always good at that kind of stuff.”
“Not essays and shit though. Which is a good thing, because then I might have never met you.”
She’s trying her hardest not to look affected but I know she’s blushing.
“Well, congratulations on your success. I’m glad you found a way to get what you wanted.”
I can’t stop a wicked smile from forming, but I do stop the words that almost tumbled out.
Yes, I have found a way to get what I wanted career-wise, and I also found a way to get her back in my life.
And I sure as hell will find my way between her legs and not only win the dare, but her heart again.
Our booth is quiet and semi-private and the ambience is rather romantic, but Kiki is clearly nervous, almost to the point of fidgeting.
She concentrated on the menu to pick out what she wanted, and now that our orders are in and we’re waiting for the appetizers, she’s got nothing but me to deal with.
I guess we better take care of the elephant in the room.
“Listen, Kiara—I plan to show you again and again, but for the record, I’m incredibly sorry about what happened back then. Prom night.”
She stares at me for a few seconds, silently and firmly meeting my gaze. Then she looks away and says, “Thank you. I do appreciate the apology, though I’m not sure if you mean it for me or you.”
“Both of us, I suppose—I need you to know much I mean it. And I want you to have that dignity, the respect of acknowledgment of a bad deed. I was obviously a shithead back then, and you deserved so much better. I need you to know it weighed on my conscience, that I realized what a horrible thing I did and suffered in the aftermath. I understood the value of what I’d lost. And boy did I regret hurting you—that above all. Not to excuse anything, but at the time, my prefrontal cortex wasn’t yet fully formed; I had no idea how badly I was fucking up when I made that decision. With our current arrangement, I hope you come to realize how different I am, and maybe we can at least be friends again.”
She takes a deep breath. “How much do people really change after high school?”
“You’re not saying we’re essentially the same as we were seven years ago, are you?”
“No—not really. People change, obviously as a matter of course with new life experiences. But I have this cousin, for example, who got right into the work force after high school. She stayed in the same town, pretty much around the same people. She still has the same insecurities, the same reactions to certain triggers. In lots of ways, she’s exactly the same girl I knew growing up; she hasn’t changed much since we were fourteen—beyond the physical. Her initial ideas and beliefs are intact, and no challenges or new information has been introduced in a way that inspired critical thinking. She’s comfortable in what she ‘knows’ and doesn’t need to know anything beyond it.”
“I get what you’re saying, but I definitely had challenges and new information that changed me and I’m not that guy from high school; I don’t give a hell what people think these days. Being successful changed some things, but even before that, I had a lot of epiphanies in the years after graduation; I learned a lot about myself and what I want.”
“And what the heck else could you want now? You can buy it all now, can’t you?”
I smile in response, trying my damnedest to hold a neutral expression.
“To some degree,” I reply.
“Anyway, I’m glad you realize it was your loss,” she says playfully. “In fact, I don’t know if you guessed this or not, but I had planned for you to be my first that night. And what I foolishly thought back then, my only.”
She rolls her eyes and gives a falsely casual chuckle while my grin only widens at her admission.
I don’t think I succeed in keeping anything neutral this time.
I probably look like a wild animal to her based on the slight alarm that passes over her face.
How could I not? Both my chest and cock are throbbing.
5
Kiara
Is Liam turning into a werewolf before my eyes?
He suddenly looks so predatory!
My core is buzzing dangerously in response to the fire of his gaze, the palpable sexual heat emanating from him.
I’m so grateful when the server arrives with our main course.
“Have you changed your mind about a stiffer drink?” Liam asks.
“Nope!” I say quickly, lamenting I can’t relax around this guy enough to have even one drop of alcohol.
“I’m not gonna take advantage of you while intoxicated, you know,” he says with a knowing look in his darkened eyes.
“I’d rather just keep my wits about me.”
“Because you still don’t trust me or my intentions.”
Yup!
But most of all, Liam Cox, I don’t trust me.
“I’d rather keep my wits about me,” I repeat, turning my attention to the food.
My mind keeps going over his words, the sincerity with which he said them.
I believe he truly regrets his actions, that he’s sorry for hurting me as well as sorry for missing out on what we could have had if he’d
had the courage to stand up for himself. Or discern better whether he wanted social approval or me more. In any case, he discovered too late he wanted me more than kudos from friends he probably no longer has.
“So will you sing for me, Kiara?” he asks as he slices off a piece of juicy-looking steak.
His eyes are on his plate, and his voice is neutral.
I detect no sexual undertones, so I think he’s calmed down.
“Sure, but I’m not busting a tune right here.”
He half-chuckles. “We’ll find a more opportune moment during the week for sure. How’s your mom?”
The abrupt change of direction throws me for a moment, but I recover quickly, pleased with the change.
“She thinks it’s a terrible idea for me to do this—go out with you.”
“I bet,” he says regretfully. Then he looks at me, smiling.“Does she still look twenty?”
I chuckle a little. “Not twenty, but still pretty young for her age, yeah. Wait, you weren’t into my mom back then too, were you?”
“Kiara, what kind of guy do you think I am? Seriously?”
I shrug carelessly, punishing him a little.
“Pretty much everyone mistook her for your sister rather than your mom,” he says defensively.
“Well, she had me pretty young; she was only twenty. With me being twenty-four and still not quite feeling like I have it all together, I’m not sure how she did it—raised me by herself.”
“Glad to hear you guys are still pretty close,” he says in a way that makes me suddenly realize how little I know about his own family life.
Sure, we ended up talking about a lot of things back then, but besides his brother, he didn’t talk about his family much.
All I knew was that his parents were together and both worked long hours. And he had two siblings.
“How’ve you been holding up out here?” he asks. “You’re living pretty far from everyone now. Have you made a lot of friends?”
“A few, and just one real one—Angel. She’s sort of a celeb in her own right.”
“Oh yeah? How?”
“She’s a YouTube personality, and she makes way more than a living wage doing it.”
I give him the gist of what she does.
He makes no more questionable comments, no innuendos, and the fire I’d seen burning in his eyes earlier has long disappeared.
To be honest, his expression is more like someone I just met in person for the first time, like we got introduced on Tinder last night or something.
He looks totally neutral and I miss the playful familiarity from earlier.
I get the sense he’s trying really hard not to frighten me away—which he almost ended up doing when he looked like he wanted to eat me up all of a sudden.
I want to encourage him to relax, but maybe it’s too easy for him to go from casual friendliness to predatory horn-dog and he’s pulling back for the sake of both of us, to honor his promise to me.
I actually appreciate the effort.
So far, Liam’s been a complete gentleman on the car ride back to my apartment.
“Tell me about your charity,” he says as he reaches into the liquor compartment.
He begins pouring himself a drink.
“I focus on disenfranchised groups—recent wards of the state, in particular. A lot of foster kids don’t exactly get the best start as adults, and once they age out of the system, there’s not a lot of guidance for adult life, so my charity provides education and job training opportunities.”
His eyebrows actually raise.
“Wow. What inspired you to do that? You didn’t have to deal with the foster care system at any point.”
“No, but I met a few people who did. And then a lot of things ended up lining up—I came across this movie on Netflix which sparked the idea, and at some point, I just couldn’t get it out of my head. So I did something about it.”
“I’m impressed, Kiara.”
My lips tug into a smile, my cheeks heating up.
“It is a worthy cause indeed; I’m glad I get to throw money at it.”
My grin widens.
I start to feel self-conscious so I ask, “How’s your family?”
He looks surprised by the question then gives a half-shrug.
“My brother’s good. He’s also annoyingly rich but he’s in a different field altogether. My sister’s still in school, getting her Ph.D. My parents are…good, I guess. Separately. They divorced a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shrugs. “They were there for us as best as they could be, and I think they’re both much, much happier now that they’re out of each other’s hair. My siblings and I turned out fine, so don’t feel bad for us; after all, some people never even get to meet their dads,” he says in a softer voice. “Or have you?”
His eyes look so sincere and concerned, I can’t get mad at him for bringing up that sore subject.
“I have not. Still don’t know who he is.” I shrug. “I do suspect my mom does know who he is though. Before—through my childhood and teenage years—I believed whatever story she decided to tell me about him, even though it kept changing. I think she knows I can track him down, that he’s alive, and she’s just trying to make sure I don’t get my feelings hurt; for some reason, she’s pretty sure he’ll reject me.”
“So you’ve never confronted her with your suspicions?”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to hurt her feelings, make her think she was lacking in some way when it came to parenting me. I don’t want her thinking that, as hard as she tried, she wasn’t enough for me. Some of us don’t need full development of the prefrontal cortex to understand how our actions might hurt someone.”
“Ouch. I deserve that, I guess.”
His face is back to neutral, but I get the sense I did actually hurt his feelings.
I feel kind of bad.
“Looks like we’re here,” he says with a distant look, his eyes focused outside the car on my apartment building.
I follow his gaze, my stomach dropping a little now that we’ve reached the end of the date.
I feel like time has flown by—didn’t I just come downstairs and enter this limo for the first time five minutes ago?
But it’s nine o’clock now—we’ve actually been together for over two hours.
As emotionally taxing as this outing’s been—fighting off feelings of anger, resentment, and desire the whole time—it’s too early to be done!
“I can walk you up or we can say goodbyes here—your choice,” Liam says all gentlemanly and with a slight bow of his head.
“You can walk me up,” I say brightly. “Just keep your hands to yourself.”
The corners of his mouth twitch, but he nods and follows me out of the vehicle.
I am keenly aware of his tall, hard body near mine, and I question my decision to let him accompany me the moment our feet hit the first step.
You’re still in total control, I tell myself. He won’t do anything you haven’t allowed him to; in fact, why are you even thinking this? He’s just walking you to the door…
“You smell divine,” he says in a muted sort of way, giving me the brief impression he is exercising great restraint.
But maybe his voice just got lost a little in the slight gust of wind.
Which reminds me that he’s walking behind me while I’m wearing a dress that hits me mid-thigh.
How much can he see?
Don’t be silly—he’s not looking up your dress right now.
My mind keeps yapping a mile a minute while Liam remains quiet behind me.
When we finally reach my door, I turn to him with a friendly smile, but I barely have time to register his stormy handsome face as it descends toward me.
His lips meet mine with a light peck at first, then his tongue sneaks into my mouth while his lips tug at mine, the warm, slender organ probing my insides and causing the slight tingle of interest at my core to grow into an inces
sant buzz, throbbing with yearning.
I wish Liam could calm that area at the apex of my things a little, slide his large hand down there underneath my dress, maybe even introduce his…
Liam pulls away abruptly, leaving me practically drooling for more.
I hadn’t realized till now that I’d lifted my hands and grabbed the side of his head to hold him to me as we kissed.
“I kept my hands to myself,” Liam says smugly, infuriating me.
I let out a frustrated sound, turning to my door and digging in my purse for my keys.
My panties are wet, my traitorous mound still begging for relief.
“Aw, don’t be upset, Kiki…”
I open the door and quickly slam it in his face, leaning against it.
I stay there panting heavily for a while, and shame hits me within a minute—I wasn’t raised like this!
Even though Liam sort of broke his promise, no matter how toyed with I felt, I should have at least thanked him for dinner and everything before slamming the door on him.
I go to the nearest window and peek outside.
To my dismay, both Liam and the limo are gone.
I pull out my phone.
I apologize for the outburst. Thank you for a lovely dinner, I text him.
It takes a while, and it’s torture waiting for the eventual dots that show up to turn into words, but they come.
The pleasure was all mine, he responds.
I take a deep breath, relieved he doesn’t seem to have taken my reaction too hard.
Part of me wants to stay dressed a little longer, to fool myself into feeling the date’s still going on, I guess, but the slickness between my legs—and the heat of my anger and desire—need the washing away of a cool shower.
Not to mention the lingering feel and scent of Liam Cox on my lips.
If tonight made anything clear, it’s that I still can’t quite trust him.
He is dangerous, and not just because forgiveness brimmed in my heart at dinner after he apologized and sincerely expressed regret to me.
