Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“I want you to meet my date,” Mr. Abrams said and sat down again.
I perked up and felt a smile tug at my mouth. He wanted his friend to meet his date. That was me!
“How I’ve waited to hear you say those words,” Mr. King commented with a wry smirk.
Mr. Abrams chuckled and rested his arm behind me along the back of the booth. “August is a dear friend of mine, though we don’t see each other often anymore. Parker works for the company and spent last week turning my world upside down.”
“Only from Wednesday,” I felt the need to clarify. My stomach did a little flip at his openness too. “Nice to meet you, Mr. King.”
“Likewise, Parker. Likewise.” Mr. King sat down next to Mr. Abrams.
I felt Mr. Abrams’s hand along my neck, his fingers rubbing my skin slowly, and it drew a shiver from me. It also had the weirdest calming effect, and I sent him a sideways smile and scooted a few inches closer.
“I actually spoke to August yesterday,” he admitted to me. “I asked when he would be in town next time, and he said he was already here to create the spring menu with his chef.”
Okay…?
Why did I feel like I was missing something?
“I didn’t know you needed a chaperone, sir,” I joked.
Mr. King found that funny.
“I told you he was a brat.” Mr. Abrams slid his buddy a smirk.
We were interrupted—or saved, maybe—by a server who asked about our orders. Mr. King let her take our drink order, but he wanted to handle our lunch himself. It wasn’t every day that happened, so I wasn’t going to complain!
While he stood up and spoke quietly to the server, I leaned closer to Mr. Abrams.
“If this is a date, can I start using your first name in my head now?” I asked.
His forehead wrinkled with a bit of confusion, but his expression held amusement too. “What have you been using so far?”
“Mr. Abrams, of course.” Duh. Then because I was me, I had to ramble about it. “It happens naturally when I’m around men who give off that sexy, dominant vibe. Aside from work-stuff, obviously. Every Abrams in the company is Mr. and Ms. Abrams to me, but to tell them apart, we have to use your first names too. I just wouldn’t address you by your first name to your face.” It was one of those few things that would’ve embarrassed me.
Maybe it was how I’d been raised, I didn’t know. My mom’s side of the family was strict on labels and formal stuff. I’d called my great-grandfather the Major until he’d died when I was ten.
“Sexy, dominant vibe,” Mr. Abrams echoed. With a slight grin tugging at his lips, he closed the distance between us and kissed the corner of my mouth.
I wasn’t prepared for that! I was a little unsettled, to be honest. I needed to know protocol.
“I’m only Mr. Abrams at work,” he murmured in my ear.
I shuddered and swallowed dryly. Could I kiss him? I wanted to kiss him. “Okay.” I tilted my face toward his an inch or two and tested a smile.
He did the same right before he pressed a kiss to my mouth—and that right there, that was the stuff.
I wasn’t going to get ahead of myself; we were in a public place, but I craved a small taste. I moved my hand to the curve between his neck and shoulder and angled myself for a deeper kiss. He smiled at that and swept the tip of his tongue against mine, and that was all. It was the fuel I needed. Then we broke the kiss with an unhurried one and rested our foreheads together.
“I hate to interrupt.” Yet, Mr. King was interrupting. “I just wanted to say lunch will be out in ten minutes. We’ll catch up soon.”
“Thank you, August.” Mr. Abrams—Wyatt—sent him a quick, polite smile before returning his attention to me. He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me once more. “I hope you don’t mind I told him a little about you.”
“I don’t mind. I just can’t imagine what would be interesting enough to discuss.”
“I can think of countless things.” He sat back as our drinks arrived. “But the reason I went to him is because he shares a Daddy/boy dynamic with his partners. Two Daddies and one boy.”
Thank fuck I hadn’t taken a sip of my Sprite yet! I would’ve choked.
I gulped instead, and my eyes widened.
He eyed me carefully. “I didn’t mean for that to sound…drastic. Or sensational. I’ve picked up on some of your traits, and I wanted to be prepared.”
Prepared for what? I wasn’t some advanced kinkster. I’d dabbled, I guessed. I’d had a couple relationships with elements of that kind, and I knew I was a sub. I had fantasies and what I supposed I would call a core fetish, but I’d never met anyone I’d felt comfortable with enough to explore it all to the fullest. It’d been one thing or the other. Romance or playtime. Casual with kink components or regular relationship, never both, never at the same time.