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It turned out taking this gig was possibly the best idea my agent ever had. I would need to make sure I thanked him.
…later. Definitely later. Because I spotted Amber coming in through the restaurant’s door and my body flooded with warmth.
We’d both agreed to go home and shower before meeting up at a local tex-mex place. Well, for me it was to my hotel room, but apparently Amber’s place was only a twenty-minute drive with medium traffic, an hour on a bad day. And considering it was after seven on a Tuesday, she obviously had made very good time.
She wasn’t as decked out as she had been for her friend’s wedding, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t absolutely gorgeous. She had obviously hit the shower, her hair still slightly damp as it fell in waves around her shoulders. She was wearing grey leggings and a light, flowing top that I could vaguely see her bralette under. It was a casual, breezy and beautiful outfit that made my heart thunder in my chest and that same feeling of protectiveness wash over me.
She saw me and her face brightened, splitting into that beautiful grin of hers. I gave her a little wave before strolling up to the hostess.
To be completely honest, it’d been a while since I’d gone out to eat anywhere casual and it was nice. It reminded me of my high school and college days, when money had been much tighter, and I hadn’t quite gotten on the path I was on now. I remembered chaperoning Michelle and Amber after their prom, driving them with their dates to the closest greasy spoon and making sure no one got fresh. A lot of good memories were built up in small, chain restaurants like the one we were in.
“Wow talk about nostalgia,” Amber said, coming up alongside me after I stepped away from the hostess. “I haven’t been to one of these places in ages.”
I smiled at hearing her echo my own thoughts. “Are places fancier around you?”
She chuckled at that. “I just started my own company. I don’t exactly have the funds to be eating out very often, so when we do, it’s almost delivery.”
“Ah, yeah, that makes sense.” I felt two distinct feelings rush through me. The first was guilt at not considering her situation, the second was that same protectiveness but three times stronger. I wanted to pour money over her head, to make sure that she never wanted for anything again. In my opinion, Amber deserved everything she desired and then some.
Thankfully, we didn’t get mired in awkwardness there as the hostess called the name I gave her and escorted us to our table. I made a note to myself to not bring up money again because it was messy, and by the time we slid into the booth, the conversation already moved on.
“Ugh, I think I’ve got callouses from that sword,” Amber said, looking at her palms where they were splayed out on the table. I gazed down at them too, although I had the feeling that I was seeing them in a different light than the beautiful woman across from me.
Her fingers did indeed have reddened spots where the sword’s hilt had rubbed her raw and I longed to bundle them up in ointment and gauze. But I also knew that Amber would sucker punch me before she’d let me put band aids on her fingers, so I settled for looking.
She had callouses in all the places one would expect of a martial artist that was familiar with about a dozen different weapons. I wanted to glide my fingers along them, to feel their roughness compared to the softness of the rest of her. There were stories in those patches, stories that I wanted to hear.
But for all the proof of how hard she worked; her hands were so little, almost dainty compared to mine. I thought about how they had looked pressed against my chest as she had straddled my hips, giving herself leverage as she pumped herself up and down on my cock. They had looked especially tiny then, making me feel larger than life. Like some sort of Norse god who was spending a night with a mortal.
But I liked that she made me feel bigger, stronger. Made me feel like I was meant to protect her, to provide for her. Not that she needed anyone to do so… but still. I could. If she wanted…
I cut that thought off. This was a professional dinner between colleagues. She’d asked me to cool it and I was. Besides, I genuinely enjoyed her company, even if sex wasn’t on the table.
“How are your hands holding up?”
“Just one blister in the crook of my thumb,” I answered, showing her. Surprisingly, she reached out and gripped my hand with both of hers and that same feeling of giant-ness washed over me.
