Hot-Bites, Volume Two by Jenika Snow

11

Macy

The night of the dinner has come and I wish I could say I was calm and collected, but I’m so nervous that my hands are shaking and my palms are sweaty.

I have them clasped together in my lap, trying to act like I’m not about to jump out of my skin. But all I can think about is what Braden and I have done these last couple of days, how the wall I’ve built around myself has all but crumbled, and how I am about to meet his family, even if I’m not technically in a relationship with him.

The truth is, I feel like I am.

I’ve never been so open and bared to anyone in my life. Braden sees me for me, and even if that seems crazy, given the short amount of time we’ve spent with each other, it doesn’t make it any less real.

I look over at him, his focus on his phone, his expression serious as he types out a text. We’re sitting in the back of a sleek luxury car, the scent of expensive leather something I’ve never actually experienced firsthand. I’m used to the faux leather of cheap restaurants, the hard-plastic seats on public transportation.

But being with Braden has shown me a whole other world, one I knew existed, but never imagined I would be part of.

This is temporary.

But as I think those words all I can feel is the doubt in them, and the knowledge that I want more with him consumes me.

Where I always thought the rich and privileged were a bunch of snobby assholes, I saw a different side, one that Braden has shown me. He’s intense and knowledgeable, driven and successful. But he’s not arrogant.

He’s confident.

And that’s such a turn-on.

As I stare at him, his square jaw, his freshly shaven face, with his hard-set eyes as he furiously types out the text, I feel myself heat and soften, arousal licking at my very core. I remember what I did to him in the bed. I remember what he did to me in the shower. My breathing starts coming out faster, more labored. And just when I think, feel, that I want to take this further … when I want to reach out and touch him, do something dirty in the back of this car, the vehicle slows and Braden lift his gaze from the phone to look out the window.

“We’re here,” he says in a deep, almost authoritative voice.

He glances over at me, and I can tell by the way his expression changes that he sees the desire on my face.

I clear my throat and straighten, looking out the passenger side window so I don’t get sucked into the moment, so I don’t reach across and grab his massive cock, and make him come in his expensive, tailored suit pants right before his family dinner.

I blow out a small breath of air. The window is tinted so it’s hard to see out. But there’s no mistaking the massive estate the luxury car is slowing up to.

When I lean in closer to the window to get a better look at the mansion, I suddenly feel like a fraud, so out of place and my element that I start to feel panic settle inside of me. I’ve never seen a house so big in person, with pillars that support a large covered porch, a front door that’s really two doors in one, this intricate, wrought-iron scroll work on it.

This isn’t me.

It is tonight, I mentally demand of myself.

The car comes to a stop in front of wide, no doubt expensive marble steps that lead up to the porch. My heart is racing double-time, and I don’t know how this is supposed to go, if I’m supposed to pretend to be his girlfriend? If I’m just arm candy? Should I be seen and not heard?

I am so confused on the ins and outs of all of this that when I look at Braden, I can see he is aware of where my thoughts are. He reaches out and takes my hand in his, giving it a light squeeze.

“Just be yourself.” He smiles and it’s genuine. I know how this started off for him … rub the street thief in his family’s face.

But maybe things have changed for him, too? Maybe he feels this escalating emotion like I do?

And then he leans in and kisses me softly on the forehead. The act is so gentle that I actually close my eyes and lean into him. It’s so strange, but I feel like being with him, letting my walls and fears come down, is exactly what’s supposed to happen. I feel collected and calm, relaxed with him. I’ve never felt this way before, but in Braden’s presence he makes it all so easy.

I could stay like this forever, but my door opens, and a man dressed in butler attire is standing there, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture stiff as he stares straight ahead, not making eye contact.

I climb out and smooth my fingers along my dress, my pulse racing. I wonder if they can see my heart beating, if it’s so pronounced that it’s visible.

Braden places his hand on the small of my back as soon as he’s out of the vehicle and standing beside me. I take comfort and strength from his touch, and tell myself this isn’t the worst thing in the world.

I can do this.

That’s what I keep telling myself as we head toward the front door.