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“That’s my ride,” I said to Nia, grabbing my clutch. She hugged me and I promised to text the address of the restaurant so she’d know where I was in case anything happened.
When I got to The Birdie, the very exclusive restaurant Bryce had picked, I tried not to let myself be too impressed with the sumptuous mid-century feeling inside. But I was impressed that Bryce had scored a reservation – in a private booth no less – on such short notice. Such was the life of the very wealthy.
I was led through the restaurant to the back booth where Bryce was already waiting. I can't lie and say the fact that his eyes travelled the length of my body didn't give me a little boost. I tried not to preen under the soft lighting of the restaurant, but I knew I looked as amazing as I felt.
Bryce stood up and helped me into the soft, emerald-green booth before sliding over next to me. It was shaped like a U and I felt like we were royalty.
“I hope it’s not inappropriate if I tell you that you look stunning tonight, Reyna.” Bryce’s lips broke into a warm smile that made all of my breath lodge in the back of my throat. His voice was deep and commanding, rumbling across my skin. The way he looked at me made me feel like a part of me got under his skin, too.
“Not at all. Thank you.” I grasped for the delicate glass of water and took a large gulp, slightly regretting the glass-and-a-half of wine I’d had at home.
A waiter gracefully appeared at the table and Bryce ordered a bottle of wine. I don't even remember the name because even the wine was out of my league. He went away for a few minutes while we chose our entrées.
When we made our choices, Bryce flagged down the waiter, who immediately came over. Being waited on hand and foot with such precise attention was something I wasn't used to. Bryce clearly was.
When the waiter left, Bryce just did that thing where he looked at me, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle.
“So, Reyna. I know we have our agreement in place and all of that, but what do you want out of this? I know we still have to talk about the logistics of the engagement, but I want to know your thoughts.”
The question caught me off guard. I could tell in his eyes he wasn’t asking about what I wanted professionally. He was asking about other…stuff. I didn't have a collar, but if I did, it was getting hot under it.
“I don’t – I haven’t really thought about it, honestly.” That was a lie. I reached up to twirl a lock of hair and then pushed my hand down. “I guess…companionship would be nice.”
God, companionship? Now I sounded like a golden girl. What the hell, Reyna?!?
"Companionship," Bryce repeated slowly, stroking his chin thoughtfully, "And nothing more?"
"I guess not.” I leaned in a little closer to Bryce, bending over just a touch. Of course, I wanted more than companionship, but I wasn’t going to be the one to say it. I shifted my legs a bit so one knee grazed his thigh. I took a deep breath of Bryce. He smelled masculine and powerful, like somehow, someone had bottled that in a cologne.
“Would it be wrong if I told you that I’d like to explore more than just companionship with you while we’re doing this?” His eyes were like molten lava, dark and dangerous. I knew exactly what he meant, and there goes that collar again.
“It’s not wrong, no. I guess we’ll have to wait and see what happens.”
Bryce shifted closer, one hand finding my thigh, leaving a burning hot spark of sensation that travelled right up to where it was starting to feel good. Really good.
“Reyna,” he said, his voice deadly low. “I’m not really a wait-and-see kind of guy when I want something.”
His lips were nearly touching my ear as he whispered, sending shivers down my spine and sparking the wetness between my legs.
My breath hitched as I felt his warm breath against the sensitive skin of my neck. Part of me wanted to climb on top of him right here in this booth, but there was an alarm bell ringing in the back of my mind saying that we had an agreement and it would probably be better if we stuck to that agreement.
“Bryce...” I started, but he gently placed his thumb over my lips, stopping me from saying anything further.
“I understand if you need time to think about it,” he said softly before removing his hand from my thigh and leaning back. My skin practically screamed out at the loss of attention. The tension between us was palpable; just a simple touch could leave me wanting so much from this man.
“But Reyna, just know," he leaned toward me again, "I don’t want to wait. And if you have any interest at all, just say the word.” He leaned in even further to speak directly into my ear. "But I'm pretty sure there's interest." His husky, ragged whisper almost made me burst at my emotional seams.
Suddenly, his hand was sliding back up my thigh and toying with the hem of my dress. I nearly whimpered in want. Ineededthat hand to keep slipping higher, like I needed my next breath. Every cell of my body was focused on where Bryce’s thumb slipped under my dress.
I turned toward him, my lips just a breath away from his. “Bryce, not here.” My voice was weak as my entire nervous system was flooded with arousal.
Bryce growled low in his throat, skating his lips across my neck.
The waiter appeared, and Bryce moved back, adjusting himself discreetly under the table.
Dinner passed with friendly conversation – trying to know the answers to questions that a real couple would know: favorite colors, movies, and books – stolen glances, and more heated touches that left me aching for more. I was just suddenly unsure if there should be more. It was all feeling so real, yet business-like, and something sunk in the pit of my stomach as I realized this could also go very, very wrong for me.
We walked out of the restaurant, holding hands like any regular couple would do when Bryce stopped me, just out of the glow of the street lamps. He gave me a wicked grin.
