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“Gideon,” she whispers my name but squares her shoulders. When she’s submissive, she’s intoxicating, but when she’s confident, she’s addicting.
“And that’s why your panties are wet. I’m not a college boy who’s going to bullshit you. If I want something, I’ll tell you. I’ll dominate your body and own your mind.” My promises aren’t futile because that’s exactly what I want from her. If she’d offer me her body, for just one more night, I’ll show her pleasure beyond her imagination.
“Then you’ll have to show me, Gideon,” she tells me, lowering her voice. “Because if I have to be honest, Sir, I’d like to see how you turn my body inside out.” Her words are fuel, which seems to have turned the fire that has been burning inside me into a goddamned volcano about to erupt.
“Tonight, we’ll go for dinner. Wear a dress, black panties, and a bra that matches. I want you in four-inch heels and leave your beautiful fiery hair loose. Am I understood?” My order comes out rough and husky, and her lips part on a soft breath that speaks directly to my dick.
“Yes, Sir,” Clover whispers in a tone that confirms she’s as turned on as I am. I want nothing more than to kiss her right now, to steal those shortened breaths, but I know we could be caught.
Moving back, I rise and smile down at her. “Good. I’ll see you after our break.” Leaving her on the couch, I head to the men’s room before anyone notices my erection that seems to be fighting its way out of my slacks.
Once I’m locked in a cubicle, I unzip my pants and shove both them and my boxer briefs down to my thighs before I grip my shaft and stroke it slowly. I shouldn’t come, but I can’t stop myself. Closing my eyes, I picture the pretty little Clover kneeling, her wide eyes looking up at me, and her mouth open wide, her tongue out, awaiting her treat.
A groan rumbles deep in my chest as I see her plain as day in my mind’s eye, which tightens my balls and has my release zipping down my spine. The sticky fluid shoots from my cock, and all I envision is Clover’s face and tongue painted in my white seed.
Chapter 8
Clover
I take one last look in the mirror. It’s been so long since I’ve been out on a date, I feel more nervous than I’ve ever felt up on stage singing for an audience. The dress I chose is cut just above my knee, and it hugs my curves. The flowy champagne color material looks good against my slightly tanned skin.
Grabbing my purse and phone, along with my keys, I make my way out of the apartment and step into the waiting elevator. With every red number that takes me down to the ground floor, my nerves kick into high gear. The moment I step out onto the sidewalk where my Uber is waiting, my heart decides it’s time to play a speedy beat against my ribs.
I think about my dad. If I were to tell them I’m moving to Seattle, they wouldn’t care. My father is far too busy with work, and my stepmother is too preoccupied with the meetings her socialite friends drag her to. Being here allows me to feel free. And that’s something I’ve always struggled with. I wanted my independence for a long while. Even with my dad and stepmother doing their own thing, I was still under their watchful eye.
My phone buzzes in my purse, and when I pull it out, I find a message from Gideon.
Gideon: I’m here. Table fifteen, ask for Gideon, they’ll know where to bring you.
Smiling, I tap out a response to let him know I’ll be there in a few minutes before putting my phone away and focusing on the road. The lights that make the city come alive look beautiful against the inky black sky.
“We’re here,” the driver tells me, and I realize I’ve been lost in my own thoughts again.
“Thank you.” I offer a smile before exiting the vehicle. Looking up, I notice the name of the restaurant all in bright red letters. The scent of food causes my stomach to grumble hungrily. I forgot to eat lunch. I was too nervous to keep anything down, so I ended up just having a milkshake. It’s not good, but I can’t force myself to eat anything when I feel this tense.
I take a few shaky steps toward the restaurant, and once I’m inside, I can’t help but lick my lips at the delicious fragrances coming from the kitchen.
“Hi, can I help you?” The hostess greets.
“Yes, I’m here with Gideon Hale. He said to tell you he’s at table fifteen.”
The hostess nods with a large smile. “Oh, yes, follow me.” She leads me through the busy restaurant, and I take in the atmosphere. It’s cosy, nothing like I am used to back home. Greta, my stepmother, wouldn’t be caught dead in a little diner like this, but I love the character.
