Page 42 of Rough Hard Fierce (Chicago Underground 1-3)
That left something to be desired.
“Are you sure?” What if he really didn’t like the dress? What if it wasn’t the right thing to wear to the ballet? What if he was tired of me? For all I knew, I was just the flavor of the week. Intuition was nice, but it wasn’t security.
Sometimes his terseness could be downright unnerving. I didn’t want to mess this up, but at this point how would I even know until he kicked my ass to the curb?
I took a deep breath and approached him, all timidity. “Are you sure this is okay?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Tell me the truth,” I said.
“It’s a nice dress.” His leashed body and hot eyes said he liked it very much.
I blinked up at him. “Really?”
“Yes.”
A smile spread across my face. “You’re sweet.”
I threw my arms around him. He stiffened and then put his arms around me too. And wow, I guess it was okay, considering the thickness I felt press against my hip.
“Hey.” I put my hand on his cock through his jeans. “I can take care of that.”
His hips backed away. “After the ballet, or we’re never getting out of here.”
“Are you sure?” I mused. “You don’t want me to kneel down right here in front of you, with my new dress on, and make you feel better?”
I would’ve sworn I had him, but he tightened—all over—and then shook his head on a long exhale. “Later,” he said.
Then he went into the bathroom to put on his suit. He looked just like I knew he would. Perfect.
* * * *
We drove to the theater in silence. I rehearsed sophisticated-sounding things to say to his brother and sister. When we arrived, seating hadn’t begun yet, so Colin got us drinks from the bar. Turned out rich people liked to get drunk too. Same beer, triple the price. None of the cocktail tables had any chairs, so we found an empty one to stand around. As soon as we’d settled, Colin got a call on his cell. He stepped off to the side, just out of earshot, but not so far that I couldn’t hear his voice rise. I still couldn’t make out his words, but I felt his anger. One word slipped through a few times: “No.”
Colin returned to the table, frustration seeping through his stoic mask.
“Who was that?” I asked.
“My brother.”
I tensed. He and his hold on Colin were still a sore subject for me, but I knew I had to make nice. “He’s on his way?”
Colin shook his head. “He doesn’t like crowds. We’ll stop by his house after.”
We drank. My mind scrambled desperately for a topic but came up empty. The solemnity was unnatural for me, and the more desperate I became for a topic, the more inappropriate the suggestions in my mind became. Finally the tension got to be too much, and I burst out, “I’ve never been to a ballet before. It’s weird walking on carpet in high heels.”
He said nothing.
“You’ve been before…right?” I asked.
“Just to see Rose.” His sister.
“I’m worried I’ll do something stupid.”
“You won’t,” he said.
I bit my lip. “We got a book about the ballet from the library. I promised to tell Bailey all about the real thing later.”
