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CHAPTER 14
Lily
I look up at him. “Dinner?”
“Yeah. Dinner.” He says it so casually but there’s a tension in his face I can’t read.
Dinner.
But it’s not that simple.
I leave him hanging for a moment while I think. I loved going down on him. How much he loved it, how turned on he was. I love all the sexy things we do together…
‘Join me for dinner’ should be a pleasant request but I’m instantly overwhelmed by the offer. Dinner is not a blowjob or a spanking. Dinner means more. It means the potential of a relationship.
Which means the risk of being hurt.
Especially for someone like me.
“Hmm. Dinner. Let me think…”
I’m not from his world; he could easily realize that he’s dating below his pay grade, his age. The women he’s used to would be confident. They’d know what to wear, what to say, how to keep his attention on a night out.
Which fork to use.
A date. A proper date. With the city’s most eligible bachelor. It’s a daunting idea.
I mean, the man has a plaque with his face on it, for goodness’ sake.
Sensing my nerves, he moves in close, a reassuring hand caressing my lower back. “We don’t have to if you don’t want. Sorry if I misinterpreted… things.”
To see him like this, so open, so vulnerable, it makes me forget my worries. “No! Dinner sounds nice. I was just quiet because…” In an effort to reassure him, I make up a white lie that isn’t really a lie. “I just didn’t know what to wear.”
A smile takes over his features. “You have nothing to worry about. The women will prepare you.”
“The women?” My mind instantly goes to a stark hospital hall filled with nurses in outdated little white caps. “What does that mean?
“You won’t have to do a thing. We have a spa on site. Just for the women who live here. An entire team devoted to preparing you for our night out.” He smiles. “Remember I told you I’m in charge? And right now, I want to spoil you.” He takes my hand in his, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. “Let me spoil you.”
“You’re too good to me. Thank you.”
Okay, now that I’ve agreed to the spa, that means in preparation I’ll need to shower, shave everywhere, deep condition the hair, and put on a face full of makeup so these women think I take care of myself… but Jesus.
What to wear?
All these beautiful clothes to choose from and I have no idea what to put on. He’s not giving me enough information. The dread of possibly showing up to a casual night out of bowling in an evening gown and strappy sandals clenches my stomach.
“Should I bring a dress?—”
“When I say you need to worry about nothing, that’s exactly what I mean.” His big hands rest heavy and comforting on my shoulders. He caresses my forehead with a soft kiss, leaving me with a delightful, warm, protected feeling spreading over my skin. “And if I catch you doing a bit of prep work before you go to the spa, you’ll be spanked, showing up to all those women with a pretty red ass. The point of the spa day is so you don’t have to worry about a thing.”
Don’t worry. Like it’s as simple as following a command. Impossible. Men just don’t know women, do they? We inhale worry with each breath, thinking of every possible issue that could arrive and how we would solve it.
It’s how we’ve survived all these years.
Still, thinking of me and the spa day is very, very sweet and very much appreciated. “Thank you.” I press up on the balls of my feet to plant a kiss on his cheek.
Dressed in casual loungewear and flip-flops in preparation for the pedicure I’m hopeful is coming, I stride across the Village toward the bright white building that looks too spotless for me even to set foot on its pristine stairs. A beacon of purity promising me I’ll be walking out with the smooth skin of a hairless cat. I flinch at the idea of wax strips ripping away at my coarser parts but I’m starting to wonder if the information Google left out about the Bachmans is that the whole gang of them are kinky AF.
