Page 102

I dressed under Tristan’s watchful eyes with a fluttering in my stomach I hadn’t felt until he came into my life. I’d actually taken a huge step tonight—being honest with myself about the scenes with Carter and making a plan to finally express what I needed—and I was fucking proud of myself.

Starting to break the cycle I hadn’t even acknowledged my entire adult life, including my twenty-three-year failed marriage, felt incredible. And I’d keep going, keep trying, because I wanted this relationship to be better than my last one. I wanted this one to last forever.

Shawn would be so proud of me.

Chapter thirty-six

Tristan

Late May

Henry and I rarely went out, but on occasion, we made it out of town together. We’d visited Leavenworth overnight, doing all the touristy things, and even took a few hikes when the weather was nice enough. Which, this time of year in western Washington, usually meant that it was misting instead of pouring.

But tonight, Henry had said he wanted to take me on a date. A real one. In town.

Well, it wasn’t near our neighborhoods, but it was still in Seattle. I was nervous—what if one of our friends spotted us?—but I was excited, too. I saw it as one more step toward claiming Henry in public, even if I wasn’t ready to go all in yet.

When my doorbell rang at five fifty-eight, my stomach tumbled. I took one last look in the bathroom mirror then sprinted for the front door.

Henry stood in the hallway in a formfitting forest-green sweater, dark jeans, and fashionable white tennis shoes, and my mouth literally watered at the sight.

His eyes bugged out when he saw me, and I glanced down at my outfit: white leather pants, an off-white high-end silk T-shirt, white sneakers with off-white trim, and a dusting of subtly shimmering eyeshadow in gold. I thought it was understated and sexy, and I was pleased to see that Henry most definitely agreed. Because once he’d snapped out of his shock, he stepped confidently into my home, threw the door shut behind him, and snatched me up, pulling me into his arms before planting a hard kiss on my lips.

Soon, we both were moaning, and I had to push away just to catch my breath, the taste of him still on my tongue—a sweet vanilla with touches of something spicier like ginger or nutmeg and a flavor all his own. I wanted to drown in it.

But as much as I would’ve loved to stay home and bathe myself in Henry, we were both dressed to impress, and I wanted to show him off.

So I took a reluctant step backward, pouting as I pressed my fingers to my lips. “As much as I’d love to continue that, you said earlier that we have reservations?”

Henry blinked as if coming back to reality—that seemed to be a thing for him tonight—then smiled, holding out his hand to me. “Yes. We should get going.” He glanced down between us, where both of us had erections that could poke each other’s eyes out. “Any thoughts for getting these to go away that don’t involve ice?”

I wiggled my eyebrows. “Well, we could—”

He tsked. “Not a chance, Devil Daddy.”

“You don’t even know what I was about to say!”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “You were either going to suggest trying ice again—and I am not reliving that in this lifetime—or pinching my dick until it went down. Which, as you’ve already discovered, is not likely to work because that kind of pain just makes me harder.”

I snickered. “True. You know, we’ve never revisited that cage . . .”

He smacked me on the ass, hard, and yeah, that was not helping my hard-on. “And we’ve never given you that spanking, either. You might be angling for it tonight, however.”

“Ooo, you promise, Daddy?”

Henry threw his head back and laughed, smacking my leather-clad ass again. The slap echoed in my living room. “Just get your stuff so we can go to dinner, brat.”

I wiggled in place, loving this side of my Daddy. I wanted to be his brat so he could tame me thoroughly and completely. So he could claim me as his own.

***

The restaurant Henry had chosen was upscale and expensive. The grand brick entry to the building, which appeared to also house the kitchen, staff areas, and restrooms, opened into a dimly lit atrium that took on a modern, sultry blue hue under subtle lighting and a canopy of stars. The rounded, glass-enclosed dining room was full of greenery and sat street-side in one of Seattle’s more upscale districts.

Henry’d insisted on paying for everything. I resolved to return the favor sometime soon, but tonight, I was going to enjoy being pampered.

Conversation flowed between Henry and I while we waited for our food, and my heart grew closer to his with every smile that perfect man threw my way. My own smiles came easy, echoing the beautiful atmosphere this restaurant—and this date—had created.

I was sipping a glass of white wine when a blink of light over Henry’s right shoulder made my eyes flick away from his, searching out what had drawn my attention. It could’ve been the flash of a camera or an innocuous glint of a streetlight off a phone turned at just the right angle, but I still felt an uncomfortable churning in my gut.