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Chapter 25: Ben
Fuck. Me. Running.
I bite my fist as she sashays her way to my car, swinging her ass just for me. God, this is going to be so much fun.
Lilah tells me about her day on the way to the restaurant. She fills me in on each of the shops and restaurants that have already ordered coffee from her. There's a pause in the conversation as she looks out the window. "Thanks for mowing my lawn. You didn't have to do that."
"I figured I owe you. For all the times I woke you up and, you know, the head wound."
Lilah laughs, and the sound is like music. I love it. In that moment, as crazy as it sounds, I realize that I'm falling in love with her. "Besides, I know you don't have a mower yet. Being a new homeowner and all."
She grimaces, "I know I really need to get one. Would you believe that it never occurred to me that I would need one?"
I laugh. "Yeah, I could see that, but I don't think you should buy one. It's a waste of money when you can just let me take care of it for you."
"I feel like I'm taking advantage of you..." she trails off. "But maybe I could trade you something. How do you feel about cookies?"
I put a hand over my heart. "If you make me homemade cookies, I'll never let you go."
"Deal," she blushes. Cookies are a bonus, but I wonder if she realizes how much she's let her guard down with me. I've chipped through layers of stubborn independence, and I feel like she's finally letting me in. I have a moment of cold guilt when I think about the things I haven't confessed.
I work when she works and because she has no point of reference on how long my legitimate security work takes, she's never questioned what I do with the extra time. I told her all about the corporate hack I did on a major bank, and the weak spots I found that could have been used to leak customer info. She listened, mouth agape when I told her that my last phishing email test came back with 38% of the users not just opening them, but giving out personal information. It was enough to make me reach for a beer at three in the afternoon.
What I didn't tell her is that I also helped a woman and her child start a fresh life in Canada and anonymously reported their abuser to the Justice Department, handing over the entire contents of his hard drive and cloud storage. He may have also accidentally emailed all of his personal and professional contacts an audio file ranting about some of his favorite racist topics.
I realize that I have an overactive sense of justice, but I just can't let people like that go about their lives. It eats at me. It's not like I'm planting anything on them or creating something to use against them. It's all right there in their digital files. Every filthy, awful, incriminating thing that they think no one will ever see because they put a weak ass password on it.
It's starting to feel like I'm not much better, hiding so much of what I do from Lilah. Even knowing that what I'm doing is morally right, my methods might be ethically flawed. It's very much a gray area, and I've spent enough time with Lilah to know she often sees things a little more black and white. I can't hide this forever. I just have to put my faith in her affection for me.
I pull into a parking spot, resolving to come clean tomorrow because the last thing I want to do is ruin our first actual date. Weaving our fingers together, I lead Lilah inside. The hostess smiles brightly at us when I give her my name. Lilah leans her shoulder into me while the hostess collects our menus and I take advantage of the delay to kiss the top of her head, closing my eyes and inhaling the smell of her shampoo.
"This way," the hostess singsongs. I place my hand on Lilah's lower back just to touch her as much as possible. We follow the hostess through the restaurant to the small back patio.
"This is beautiful, Ben," she sighs. Little lights are hanging from giant oak trees, and a small fountain separates our table from the rest of the patio. I glance down at her and my chest constricts as she gives me an adoring look, her eyes bright and filled with joy. That look, that smile, is everything I need.
She is everything that is good and honest and joyful. When I’m with her, I’m reminded that the world isn’t such a dark and terrible place.
I hold her chair out for her and sit in the one next to her, but she's still too far away. Hooking my foot through the leg of her chair, I pull her closer. She makes a tiny squeaking sound as if surprised but rests her warm little hand on my thigh, clearly not averse to the closeness.
Lilah picks up her menu in her right hand, her left still on my thigh. Her fingers stroke little absentminded circles as she decides what to order. At least I'm assuming it's absentminded. That or she's intentionally trying to torture me. The little smirk playing on her lips as she reads the menu would suggest the latter. Thank god there's a tablecloth to hide my rapidly thickening problem.
I lean back and throw an arm around her shoulder, spreading my legs and letting her have free rein of my thigh. I have no shame when it comes to my attraction for her. If she's determined to turn me on, who am I to argue?
"What are you in the mood for?" I ask, throwing a pointed look at the front of her dress, letting her know exactly what I'm looking forward to. She blushes, pausing her petting fingers as a very bored looking waiter approaches. He gives us a rundown on the specials, all the while looking like he could not give less of a fuck.
He takes our drink order and Lilah orders the braised short ribs. I go with the steak, and hand our menus back. As soon as the waiter leaves, Lilah starts her teasing little fingers back up, moving ever closer to the tent in my pants of her own making. This feels like a game of chicken, but it's one that I have no intention of losing.
The waiter brings our wine, setting it in front of us, promising that our food will be right out.
I lean over to whisper in her ear. "I love it when you touch me like that but now all I can think about is how good you taste. How I want to spread you out on this table and lick your pussy until you can't see straight. I want to bend you over and fuck you so hard you forget your own name." She shivers and licks her lips, squirming in her seat.
"You're not going to be able to hold still now, are you?" I ask. "I bet I could slip a finger under your panties and you'd be soaking wet for me." Lilah moans softly, so quiet I can barely hear it, but I feel it seep through every inch of my body.
SuddenlyI cannot wait any longer.
"Bathroom. Now," I tell her. She gives me a wide-eyed look but doesn't hesitate to throw her napkin on the table and stand up, walking through the back door of the restaurant. Through the window, I watch her pass through one of the bathroom doors. There's no patience left in my body as I stand and follow.
I hope that our waiter is as inattentive for the next five minutes as he looked.
