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“I received an invite to the State Building and Housing Committee Fundraiser,” he said, ignoring my question a
s usual.
“Yes, I received it, too,” I replied. “Would you like me to call them and decline on your behalf? Don’t you have a secretary?”
He laughed, and I felt a tingle in my spine. I took the phone away from my ear and let out a sigh.
“Mira?”
“Yes?”
“I want you to go with me to the fundraiser.”
“Ward, we—. I…”
“I would love it if you would be my date,” he said, and a part of me had fully committed before I had a chance to object. The sincerity in his tone sucked me in.
“Yes,” I heard myself say.
“Great. I will pick you up. Be ready by six p.m.,” he said and disconnected the call, leaving me staring at my phone wondering what in the hell I’d gotten myself into.
Chapter Eight
Ward
She made me wait outside her door. She could have invited me in for a glass of water or anything, but she made me wait outside. I fumed as I paced up and down her porch. My mind went crazy as I pictured her taking a shower then drying off and putting lotion all over her body. I felt my shaft grow hard, and I groaned like a wild animal. Was she deliberately teasing me, or was this the way she treated all of her dates?
Finally, the door opened. Mira stepped out, and my heart melted. The anger inside me ebbed out immediately when I set my eyes on her. She looked enchanting. She wore a sparkling black gown with spaghetti straps with a black choker, and she had straightened her hair and curled it in a Victorian style. I shortened the distance between us and backed her against the wall.
“Mmmm, Mira. You look so good. I don’t want to share you with anyone at the party. I want to keep you to myself,” I moaned the words out.
"Ward, if you don't take your hands off me, you will find yourself in a hospital," she said, pushing me off her.
I chuckled. "Is that a threat? Are you saying you will spank my ass? Is that what you want to do?"
"No, I will rip off your balls," she said, and I felt immediate pain in my genitals even though she hadn’t touched them. I let go of her and stepped back.
She laughed and winked at me. "You look so scared," she said.
"I’m carrying precious cargo. I don't want to find myself in a hospital with my balls needing sutures."
As her laughter lit up the night, I leaned closer to her and reached for the pins holding her hair together. She started to protest, but I took out the pins, and her hair cascaded down her back. She was beautiful with her hair long and wavy.
“You are beautiful, Mira.” And dangerous.
“Ward, you have no idea how long it took me to get my hair pinned up like that,” she said and sighed.
“But I love the way it looks down,” I said of the curls cascading her shoulders and back.
“Can we leave now?” she pouted.
I didn’t make a move toward the car. Instead, I stared at her in awe. “You’re really beautiful, Mira.”
“Let’s just go,” she said.
“Why don’t you like accepting compliments? You deserve it.”
“Thank you. Can we go now?” she replied, once again moving past my compliment as if it was never uttered.
