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But it never came.
He looked back at me a bit quizzically.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“You’re not upset?” I finally ventured.
“About what?”
“About how much money I spent?” I whispered.
“Not at all. When I said I’d take care of you, I meant it,” he replied.
“But it was expensive,” I mumbled. What was I doing? Was I trying to get in trouble?
“It was nothing,” he reassured me, and I felt a blush creep up my cheeks.
I don’t know why I was trying to push him, but he was simply being kind and giving instead of stern and scolding like I expected him to be.
“So, I can have whatever I want, and you won’t be mad?”
He stood up and took a step closer.
“Whatever you need, little girl,” he corrected me, and I shivered at the heat in his voice.
I wanted to tell him that I wanted him, that I yearned for him to take me in his arms and press his lips to mine and kiss me the way I needed to be kissed right before he bent me over the desk and took what was his to take.
I wanted to tell him all of that, but instead, I bit my lip and turned away, trying to ignore the sudden throb that had blossomed in my core.
He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and his touch was gentle.
“Is there something else, Riley-girl?”
The nickname was startling, but not in a bad way, more so in a way that caught me off guard and made my heart pitter patter inside my ribcage like a drum. I felt my nipples harden beneath my dress and I hoped he wouldn’t notice, or maybe I did want him to notice.
I was so out of my element.
I’d never been with anyone before. I’d never been asked out on a date or kissed or anything. I’d moved around too much as a kid and then when I’d gotten to high school, all the boys seemed way too young and immature.
I opened my mouth, trying to will up the courage to tell him, but the words died on my tongue, and I asked for something else instead.
It was so lame that I cringed at myself, inwardly at least.
“How about pizza for dinner?” I said, my voice as flat as I felt.
He chuckled, his face lighting up with a smile.
“Whatever you want. Pepperoni. Sausage. Veggies. The works. Even pineapple, although we’re going to have to get two pizzas if you want that,” he murmured, and my pussy clenched again.
“Why are you doing this?” I blurted out and then I winced, wishing I could take it back immediately.
He cocked his head to the side and studied me.
“Doing what, Riley?”
“Being nice. Like this.”
“Because you deserve it, sweet girl.”
