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Date. Take two. A time and address followed and that was it.
The mystery of it all brought a smile to my face as I pushed the heavy wooden door that carried me out of the pub and into the early evening air. It was a perfect blend of a desert breeze and leftover heat from the sun. Plugging the address Maisie sent me into the GPS, I realized I had enough time to go home and change before meeting with her.
For our second date, hopefully this one would end tomorrow afternoon instead of before we got to sit down to dinner. Or dessert.
An art gallery. I shouldn’t be surprised that the college girl had set up our second date at an art gallery, something that was completely out of my comfort zone and interest level.
“An art gallery,” I said to myself with a half laugh, half snort.
“Yeah, an art gallery,” Maisie said from behind me, startling me. Briefly. “You don’t like looking at pretty things, Virgil?”
I nodded as I turned and let my gaze travel the length of her body and the pretty fucking picture she made. She wore a strapless sapphire dress that was almost the same shade of her eyes and it clung to her curves, showing off a slender waist, meaty tits, and the kind of hips a man could get nasty with. The black heels she wore, I knew without a doubt, would be the only thing she was wearing in a few hours.
“Somethin’ in there prettier than you are?”
Her brows arched in surprise. “Look at you with all that game,” she said flirtatiously, letting out a husky laugh that went straight to my cock.
“Game?” I had a way with the ladies, that much was sure, but nothing I really had to try all that hard to accomplish. I was good looking, rich, and from an influential family, which impressed most women. The rest loved the whole bad boy thing that my kid sister Kat assured me was like catnip for crazy chicks.
Maisie nodded. “Plenty of game, I think.” Her gaze lingered on mine for a long time, the coy smile still on her pink painted lips as she took me in, watched me. Studied me. “Want to go inside, or is this too artsy for you?”
I knew a challenge when I heard one. “Think a non-college grad like me can’t understand art?” I didn’t understand art for shit but I knew what I liked and what I was willing to pay for it, which for most art was not a goddamn thing.
She laughed and pushed my shoulder before she wrapped one of her arms around mine.
“No. I saw this series when it opened a few weeks ago and I thought it was amazing. I think you’ll like it too if you open your mind.” Another challenge and it was one I couldn’t resist.
“Let’s go, then.” She laughed and flashed a pleased smile as we stepped inside the spacious gallery with pale wooden floors and stark white walls. “What the hell is this?” Someone had painted a toilet seat and put a five figure price tag on it.
She laughed again and the sound was sexy and deep, drawing eyes from the others inside the gallery. “That is the kind of art that sends normal folks like us running for the hills. Thirty-five grand for that? I think I invested in the wrong degree,” she said with another laugh that confirmed once again, Maisie wasn’t like other girls.
“I won’t argue with you there.”
“Good, that’s what I like. A man who knows how to obey,” she teased and grabbed my arm once again, tugging me through the semi-crowded gallery toward a walled off area near the back. “Okay, here we are. Remember, Virgil, open mind.”
I couldn’t remember shit with the way her pink lips moved, just inches from mine, so I took advantage of the privacy we had and pressed my lips to hers in a slow kiss that heated up quickly. Too quickly. Maisie pulled back first with a smile, chest heaving as she looked up at me through wide blue eyes. “Consider my mind open, Maisie. Wide open.”
She sucked in a sharp breath at my words, pupils dilating with desire as her skin turned a shade of pink. “Good,” she managed to stammer out with a shaky smile.
The exhibit was as incredible as she said, featuring athletes from all around the world in various stages of their chosen careers. It started with rookie photos, progressing to victories and defeats, injuries and even a few comebacks. “You’re right, it’s really fucking good.” That was a tame word for what it was, for all the emotion and power in each photo, but it was all I had.
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“Oh. Well in that case, I’m glad you liked it. Want to go back to the toilet seat?”
