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“My answer is that we’ve been cooped up for too fucking long. First at your place and now here. Don’t you want to get out and stretch your legs a little?” His expression is still slightly amused, but that’s it. He doesn’t give away a damn thing. “Well?”
“Fine. Of course, I want to go out. I’m fucking going stir crazy.” I grab my bag and rush into the bathroom to get ready.
A knock sounds, and then Lucky’s voice. “Don’t wear pink, it’s too noticeable, and we need to keep a low profile.”
“Got it,” I shout and smile as I pull out the date night classic, a little black dress. I have no idea why I tossed it in my bag when it’s totally impractical, but now I need it, and I’m happy to have it.
I go with a smoky eye and deep red lips, feeling incredible. It’s been too long since I’ve had a good date because the only guys Daddy ever approved of were, well, guys he approved of, which basically meant nothing fun or exciting.
Not tonight.I have a real date with a real man, one who seems to like me even when I’m being really unlikable. A man who doesn’t give a fuck about the power and influence of my father, and even better, a man who’s already seen me at my worst and stuck around.
“I can work with that,” I say to my expression and step out of the bathroom looking incredible. “Well, how do I look?”
Heat flares in Lucky’s gaze, and he licks his lips as he takes in my long legs in the short dress and the cleavage on display. “You look the way you always look, fucking hot.”
It’s not the most sophisticated compliment, but his sincerity is indisputable, which is more than I can say for most men. I accept the compliment with a smile. “Thanks.”
“Too fucking bad you’re not wearing that.”
I wince and rear back at his harsh words. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Get back in there and put on jeans and a t-shirt, no pink. I’ll go see if one of the girls has a leather jacket you can borrow.” He shakes his head as if I’m some silly airhead incapable of dressing herself.
“What the fuck, Lucky?”
He sighs as if he’s exhausted by me. “What size boots do you wear?”
“I am not wearing someone else’s smelly boots, so tell me what the hell just happened, or I’m not going anywhere.”
He steps in close and runs his fingertips from my shoulders down to the swell of my breasts.
“We’re taking the bike. That dress, while hot as fuck, is impractical. Unless of course, you want the whole world to see your pussy?”
I growl and roll my eyes. “Size eight.”
He flashes a lazy smile. “I’ll be right back. You get changed.”
I let out a frustrated grunt, but I quickly change into a pair of fitted jeans and a loose-fitting black tank top. When Lucky returns with a black leather jacket and a pair of motorcycle boots, I’m grateful and slip them on.
“Thanks.”
Instead of grumbling about being on the motorcycle, I embrace the new experience and enjoy having my body pressed up against Lucky, my arms around his waist.
The ride is longer than I thought it would be as the bike takes us farther and farther away from Angel Harbor. With every passing mile, I feel the tension seep from my pores.
By the time we arrive at the restaurant, my thighs are trembling, and my pussy is wet.God, who am I? Now I’m turned on by a motorcycle?
“You okay?” Lucky’s dark brows arch in question.
I nod and flash a nervous smile. “I’m good. That ride was surprisingly…uhm…enjoyable.”
“I knew I’d make a believer out of you.” He winks and takes my hand in his as we walk into the dimly lit Italian restaurant. The warm aroma of garlic and herbs fills the air, and the soft chattering of diners mixes with the gentle strumming of a guitar.
“I don’t know if I’d say I’m a believer,” I begin. “Maybe I like hanging out with you.”
He flashes a knowing grin, pausing long enough to follow the hostess to a table away from the windows, instantly putting me on edge again.
“I know you do,” he whispers in my ear as he pulls out my chair like the perfect fucking gentleman. “But you still liked it.”
