Page 14 of The Big Boss


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But I wouldn’t miss tonight’s date for the world.

I’m happy that she’s agreed to see me again—that I somehow convinced her that I wasn’t this evil thing that she seems to think I am. It only took saving her life.

I can’t shake the feeling of terror that I’ve had ever since I saw that car. If I’d been even three more steps away, I wouldn’t have been able to save her. It’s a sobering thought, and one that’s been lodged in my gut all day.

She needs to be safe—I need to keep her safe. My instincts are screaming it. But there’s nothing I can do about it. I just met her yesterday, and even though every cell is screaming that she’s precious and needs to be protected, Justine would punch me for trying to control anything she did.

And I wouldn’t blame her for that.

However, I’m used to being in control. I’ve curated the environment around me so that there’s nothing that can’t be predicted. And I think that’s one of the reasons I’m so draw to her, aside from everything. She’s wild. She can’t be controlled. I love that. And at the same time it makes me anxious.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I manage to rally myself enough to check it. It’s a text from Justine, and suddenly I’m feeling far more awake.

Eight o’clock. Lena’s.

She adds the address as well.

I haven’t heard of it. Is it any good?

I watch the little bubbles on the screen and imagine her in apartment typing. Is she in bed? My mental image of her is tousled and gorgeous, lounging on her bed while she texts me.

Honestly, it’s delicious. I promise.

Anything else you can promise me?

A hesitation. What do you mean?

I laugh softly as I type. I mean you’re buying me dinner. Do you promise not to violate my honor? Just cause you’re paying doesn’t mean I’ll owe you.

Your honor is safe with me. You’ll have to discard your honor on purpose.

That is tempting. Does this place have good desserts?

Delicious, why?

I can’t keep the smirk off my face or the way my dick hardens in my pants. You taste like strawberries, I type out. I thought maybe I’d just eat you.

There’s a long pause where there’s no typing on her end. Long enough for me to wonder if I killed her entirely. But then, finally, two little words that make me stiffen to the point of pain, and blow out a breath in sudden arousal.

We’ll see.

In that case, I can’t wait. There’s not too long before I need to leave. Though I haven’t eaten there, I know where the restaurant is. It’s close enough to walk from here. And since I’m going to wear casual clothes anyway, I might as well.

I take a quick shower, resisting the urge to just spend twenty minutes jacking off to the thought of tasting her again. Especially since the real thing is a possibility. Over the years I’ve gotten really good with my hand, but nothing compares to the real thing. Especially the electric intensity of our connection.

Jeans and a t-shirt are all I wear, per Justine’s instructions. To be perfectly honest, I can’t remember the last time I wore jeans out of the house. Sure, I dress casually at home, but whenever I leave home it’s work related. And that means suits.

It’s kind of nice to be out and about like this. It also reduces the risk of me being recognized. I’m not one of those wealthy people whose face is plastered everywhere so that they’re famous for being rich. But I’m well known enough—especially in Portland—that it does happen from time to time.

When I see the tiny hole-in-the-wall restaurant, I know why she chose it. It’s small, something that she thinks wouldn’t be on my radar. But she’s wrong. I love small and out of the way places. The reason I’ve never been to this place is that it’s vegan food.

I don’t hate it, and I’ve had some amazing vegan dishes, but I don’t regularly seek it out.

And there, standing on the sidewalk, is Justine. Her hair is down again, and she’s wearing a flowing dress that billows around her feet in the evening breeze. The light from the setting sun makes her glow, and I have the urge to capture this moment in my mind so that I’ll never forget it.

Just then, she looks over at me. And it feels like a miracle when she smiles. Not a full one, but a small one. It’s a smile of private joy and secrets. Of inside jokes and pretending. Something that I already wanted more of with her.

“Hi,” she says as I walk up to her.

“Hello. Is this casual enough for you?” I take my time looking at her, enjoying the view of the gorgeous green dress that sets off her skin and eyes.

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