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Alina flinches again, and her gaze snaps to me.
I just flash her a vicious smirk.
With her jaw once again tightly clenched, she returns her attention to her date while the vibrations continue. I increase the strength. Emotions flicker across her face like tiny lightning strikes, and she blinks more than normal. Drawing in a deep breath through her nose, she curls her fingers into the fabric of her skirt and grips it hard.
The guy keeps talking, completely oblivious to her struggle.
After another twenty seconds, she starts squirming in her seat. Her hands are gripping the cream-colored fabric of her dress so hard that her knuckles have turned white. I keep the vibrations on. She presses her knees together hard underneath the table. As if that would help.
Both panic and pleasure pulse across her gorgeous face.
I almost laugh. She thinks this is bad? Oh, if she only knew what awaits her later.
At last, her stubborn resolve shatters and she slides her gaze back to me. Desperation lines her features as she looks at me with big pleading eyes, silently begging me for mercy.
My cock hardens at the sight of it.
With a smug smile on my lips, I at last turn off the vibrator.
Alina all but slumps back in her chair.
The rich dude asks something, to which Alina waves her hands as if to assure him that she’s okay. He looks unconvinced but doesn’t press the issue. Instead, he calls for the check.
Finally.
While he pays for their meal, I pay for mine as well, even though I didn’t touch it. Then I move towards the door right as Alina and her date get to their feet.
It brings me close enough to their table to hear him say, “Since you’re not feeling well, I’ll bring the car around to the front door.”
Alina tries to protest, but he insists.
I slip out the door and head to the parking lot behind the building too. Since I followed them here, I know which car is his, so I stride across the parking lot until I reach it. Turning back around, I lean against the side of his car and cross my arms over my chest.
He appears about a minute later.
Confusion blows across his features when he finds me standing by his car, but he continues walking towards me. His gaze flits up and down my body. The confusion stays on his face, but it’s now also joined by a generous amount of worry.
I stifle a snort. I haven’t even started threatening him yet.
“Can I help you?” he asks hesitantly as he reaches his car.
However, he stops a few steps away from me. As if he’s afraid that I’m going to yank out one of the knives strapped to my thighs and stab him. Which, to be fair, I am very tempted to do. But whether I actually do that depends entirely on how he responds to what I’m about to tell him.
“You’ve just had a lunch date with Alina Petrov,” I say.
He jerks back a little in surprise. Then he composes himself again and clears his throat. “What of it?”
“And you did it because your family wants an alliance with the Petrovs.”
Jutting out his chin, he tries to look down his nose at me. “I am not in the habit of discussing my family’s business with strangers.” He gives me a contemptuous look. “I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care. Now, move aside before I alert security.”
“Kaden Hunter.”
Deafening silence falls over the parking lot. From around the corner, the sounds of voices drift through the warm midday air and a car honks a few streets over.
The rich asshole stares at me, all color gone from his face. Alarm pulses in his eyes as he flicks another glance down at the telltale knives sheathed at my thighs. Then he swallows.
“Kaden Hunter,” he repeats like a moron.
