Erin could be a good wife. Shit, it’s definitely too soon to be thinking like that, but it’s true. She could be a damn good wife. It would help me in my business too, though that’s just a secondary concern. Businessmen at my level tend to be married, and having a wife could open up more doors for me. I wouldn’t be that weird bachelor CEO anymore.
On top of that and more importantly, I felt really good just spending time with Lacey and Erin. Normally, I would start wondering where the next thing would be, the next woman. Back before Lacey, I wouldn’t give a woman a second night. But I didn’t know Erin back then, so maybe things would have been different with her.
They’re different now, though. They’ve very different. I want to be around Erin, just hanging out with her, laughing with her, playing with her and Lacey. And of course, I already crave her body again, desperately need a taste of that pussy one more time. I need to feel it, that tight little vise-grip. She’s a fucking freak, and I should have guessed it by how much she liked having that plug up her ass. Now I know, though. I don’t understand how she lasted so long as a virgin.
Maybe she just needed someone experienced to teach her how things are done. She’s used to fumbling boys trying and failing to get off her bra like it’s the Holy Grail or some shit. But not me, I don’t treat her like a little porcelain doll. I’m not afraid of her delicious little pussy. I want to get deep inside of it and make her fucking beg me to keep going.
After feeding Lacey and playing with her, I get the compulsion to send Erin flowers. But I realize that I still don’t have her address. I get out my phone and text her.
“What’s your address?” I ask. “I want to send you something.”
She doesn’t answer right away. I go back to playing with Lacey, though I keep thinking about her. About an hour later, I get a cryptic response.
“After yesterday, I think I owe you something. We need to meet up.”
I stare at my phone, confused. I don’t know what she owes me. I quickly respond. “Okay then. Tonight, dinner?”
“Fine. Where?”
“Lonelli’s on Lombard. At eight.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
I frown a little. “I can pick you up.”
“No, you can’t. I’ll explain why tonight.”
I stare at my phone and shake my head, completely mystified. But the odd exchange totally recedes from my mind as I spend the rest of the day with Lacey, making her my priority. I call a babysitter and arrange for her to watch Lacey, plus I make some reservations at the restaurant. Fortunately, I know the owner, and so that’s not a problem at all.
Eight rolls around, and I find myself sitting alone at the table. She wasn’t at the restaurant when I arrived. I order a glass of whisky and sip it, waiting for her. Five minutes pass, then ten, and I start to wonder if she’s actually going to ditch me.
I don’t know what the hell’s going on. I text her, wondering where she’s at, but she doesn’t reply. I’m not the type of man to sit around and wait for someone, yet here I am, sipping a drink alone in a fancy restaurant, waiting for a woman.
I don’t understand what’s going on. The more I look at those texts, the more I’m convinced that she’s about to tell me something awful. I can’t help but think that it’s the reason she’s been randomly pulling away from me, only to come back sooner or later. I know we have something intense and special, but she keeps stepping back and trying to put distance between the two of us. I don’t fully understand that.
Finally, after a half hour of waiting, she appears at the entrance. She looks nervous, though absolutely beautiful in a tasteful black cocktail dress. She spots me and heads my way, but she doesn’t smile.
In fact, she looks terrified and nervous.
I stand up as she sits, but she doesn’t come kiss me. I don’t move to embrace her either. We sit down across from each other and I order her a glass of wine when the waiter appears.
“How are you?” I ask her, a little hesitant.
She stares down at her hands. “Not good, Griffin.”
“What’s wrong?” I lean toward her. “Why are we here?”
She bites her lip but shakes her head. “I need a drink first.”
I sigh. “You’re freaking me out, Erin. You’re clearly upset.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to freak you out.”
“So tell me what’s going on.”
The waiter returns with her drink and she takes two hefty gulps before looking me in the eye.
“There’s something about me that you need to know.”