Dinner

TATE

I was already convinced that Emerald would have looked good in anything. But something meant to make the one wearing it look better than they already did?

It was like a miner finding a raw gemstone. It was rough and dirty, but when it was taken care of properly, it would shine like nothing else could.

I had seen the raw beauty of Emerald long before now, but with a bit of polishing, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Something in my chest tightened up and squeezed like a vice until I felt lightheaded. I couldn’t look anywhere but at her.

Yes, I had wanted her before. I wanted her close to me because I thought that was all there was to it. That four-letter word that I never really understood.

~Love~.

I knew what it was, and I saw it in my grandparents, but I’d never felt it. Not really.

My mother tolerated my brothers and me; our father looked at us as a way to spread his influence.

My grandparents did their best, but we were shipped off to boarding school as soon as we were old enough and only came home for winter and summer holidays. Three, maybe four months out of the year isn’t enough.

I knew what it was, just like I knew what a relationship was supposed to be, but I never understood them. How they worked or what they felt like eluded me.

I never cared enough to fix that lack of knowledge, mostly because I saw what they were capable of doing to a person. How they destroyed people that made the wrong choices.

I was a businessman. I couldn’t make the wrong choices. The wrong choice meant millions of dollars. I didn’t rely on things like emotions and shit. They only get in the way.

But when I laid eyes on Emerald, that foolish view I had shattered like a cheap mirror and all I saw, all I wanted was her.

So, when she asked me what I wanted, sitting in my car looking like a sex goddess pulled from my deepest fantasies and made real, I told her the complete truth. I couldn’t lie to her anyhow.

The look of something I knew all too well fell over her beautiful face, and it was like that caveman inside of me started banging his chest in pride.

~Lust.~

She ~liked~ what I had told her.

“If you keep looking at me like that, baby, we’re not going to make it out of this godforsaken car, let alone back to bed,” I gritted out, using every bit of battered and broken control I had left.

“It’s your birthday, and I’m taking you out. I stood you up once already, but I’m not doing that shit again.”

“Why were you late, anyhow?” she asked, and I sighed in relief that she took the new topic easily.

I really needed to readjust my dick, but I was pretty sure if I gave it more room, it’d take on a mind of its own.

“A meeting ran late.” I clenched my jaw and put the car in gear. “One off the books.”

“That’s fucked-up, Tate,” she snapped, crossing her arms with a huff as she looked out the window. That look was familiar, too.

“Are you jealous?” I asked, amused.

“No,” she answered, quick and sharp like a whip. “But wasn’t monogamy one of the things ~you~ insisted on?

“Sounds hypocritical that you were late for a date with me because you were busy getting your dick wet.”

“It wasn’t that kind of meeting, Emerald. I already told you it’s been months.” I smirked to myself.

“Only weeks for oral, though.” She huffed again. She had me there.

I could feel the angry tension growing thicker as the seconds ticked by until I couldn’t stand it any longer.

“I didn’t finish then,” I admitted.

“What?” She made a face at me.

“I don’t want to know about your sexual exploits, Tate. It’s bad enough I’ve had to chase them out of your bed. On more than one occasion. I’m more interested in the cleanliness of the mattress I’ve been sleeping on.”

“It’s only a month old.” I couldn’t help but smile at the obvious tone in her voice.

“Thank god it’s skank free, then,” she mumbled, refusing to look away from the window.

“Skank free, yes, but I wouldn’t exactly say it’s ~entirely~ clean.” I chuckled. “I’ve needed relief on occasion.”

“And you just spunk all over the sheets? Use a fucking sock or a tissue, like most ~normal~ men. Gross.” She glared and finally looked at me.

“I’m kidding, Emerald.” I laughed. “I do that in the shower.”

“~Why~ are we having this conversation?” She rolled her eyes.

“Because you’re concerned about ~our~ bed being skank free and clean.” I chuckled again, finding myself far too amused by her irritation and jealousy. “Which it is.”

“I never agreed to that.” She turned to look out the window, though not before I saw a small smile on her face.

This was new and interesting. I avoided spending more than one night with women for a reason.

I hated the jealousy that came when they thought a good fucking more than once meant they had some kind of claim.

It was a lesson I learned in college.

One of my regular fuck buddies saw me with one of the other female students, who I was not actually sleeping with…at that time, anyhow.

I cut that shit off real fast, and it wasn’t too long after that that I started my “one night only” rule.

Jealousy was not an attractive emotion. It turned the most beautiful people into a complete turn-off.

But…I shouldn’t be shocked that Emerald was the exception to what I had thought I knew. She was the exception to literally ~everything~.

Every rule I had about relationships, women, people in general, she threw out the window like garbage and dusted her hands off with a wink.

I looked over at Emerald for a moment before turning back to the road and reaching for her hand.

I didn’t realize I had been worried that she would resist until she sighed and laced our fingers together with no hesitation.

“I really don’t like my birthday, Tate,” she said.

I sure as shit could understand why. Her birthday was when she lost her father, and her whole life spiraled downward.

Her father died, her home burned, her brother sent to war, her mother diagnosed with a disease that broke her with every slip of the memory. She dropped out of college.

That was the part that bothered me the most. She’d given up her future to help her broken family hold itself together a little longer.

I saw the pang of regret and sadness when she talked about it before, and I didn’t miss how quickly she changed the subject this morning.

She missed it. She ~wanted~ to go back but hesitated. I wanted to know why but decided I’d leave that for a later date. Right now, her birthday was bothering her.

“Then it’s not your birthday,” I said, giving her hand a small squeeze. “It’s just another day.

“I’m making you take a break from cooking for us every night. That, and Devon is there. I don’t want that fucker thinking you’re cooking for ~him~.”

The laughter that came from her was different from the usual sound that I had started craving like a junkie looking for his next fix.

This one was like that moment of stunning sight when the clouds opened up after a storm. Relief and brightness were peeking out of the darkness and slowly taking hold.

Once again, that caveman inside of me started pounding on his chest in pride.

“Are you jealous?” she asked, repeating my words back to me.

“Abso-fucking-loutely,” I nodded firmly. “You know, I’ve never been the guy that did the whole long-term thing, so I never got around to figuring out what kind of partner I was.”

“Clearly.” She giggled.

“If I had to guess, I would have gone along the lines of relaxed, from the few disastrous experiences as a teenager.

“I never looked at another guy and saw a threat. I guess that’s one of the reasons it never worked for long,” I mused. “But with you, all I see are threats. And tonight is going to damn near kill me, I think.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold on,” she said, looking at me like she did when she tried to figure something out. “The other day. You slapped a bunch of obsolete files on my desk. ~What the hell was that~?”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” I shrugged. “You don’t look anything alike, which I discovered was because you both were adopted. I felt like a dick.”

“That’s because you ~were~ a dick.” She pursed her lips but put her other hand on ours, where they rested on the center console.

“It’s kind of sweet, though. In a fucked-up, Neanderthal kind of way. Wait. That was before the will was read, right?”

“It was.” I nodded.

“That means—” She frowned.

“I’ve been a jealous, possessive bastard for months?” I finished for her. “Yes. You’re an amazing woman, Emerald. Not just physically, but all the way.”

“Stop that,” she scolded me.

I was confused. I didn’t think what I said was a bad thing, but she was…angry?

I looked over at her to try to get a clue on how to fix this, and I noticed her squirming a little in the seat, and her face was flushed.

It took longer than it should have for me to realize what she was doing. She wasn’t angry at all. She was turned on. The squirming was her rubbing her thighs together for a bit of relief.

~What the fuck? Hell yeah!~

***

It took supreme restraint on my part to get us to the restaurant without pulling over to give Emerald what she clearly needed.

She was trying to be discreet, but now that I knew, it was like I had homed in on every tiny movement she made.

Fuck, I really wanted to see her come again, to hear those sounds coming from her, to have her cry out again, to take her over that edge again.

If I did, though, we’d miss our reservation, and I dropped the ball once before. I’d have to be dead to do it again.

So, I’d think of repulsive things in an attempt to control my raging hard-on and take my woman to dinner.

That’s right. She was ~my~ woman. For as long as she would have me, she was ~mine~ to care for, to spoil, to fucking ~cherish~.

Something about her told me that she hadn’t had that in a long time. Not the way she deserved.

We were seated at a table for two in a small alcove, and I ordered some wine for us as Emerald looked at the menu.

“I don’t know what any of this says.” She frowned.

“Italian,” I supplied. “What do you like?”

“Not spaghetti.” She made a face. “I ate it far too much when Mom first… Not spaghetti.”

“Chicken, then?” I asked, and she smiled. “Sauce?”

“Alfredo?” She tilted her head.

“They have a fantastic alfredo sauce.” I smiled at her. “They have lobster or a wonderful scampi, too, if you want seafood.”

“I prefer seafood fried.”

She wrinkled her nose. God, that was adorable.

“Do you want a soup or a salad to start? Pretty sure you don’t like salad much.” I chuckled.

“Absolutely soup.” She narrowed her eyes briefly.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” I breathed out.

“Stop it,” she said, squirming again, and I felt the control over my dick evaporate.

“Emerald,” I warned, “keep rubbing those perfect thighs together like that, and I’ll take you into the restroom and make you scream.”

Her face flushed as the waiter came with the wine. I was torn between being irritated at his timing and thanking him for the interruption because I wasn’t making an idle threat.

I fully intended to follow through, and I was seconds away from doing exactly what I said when my phone rang in my pocket.

I wanted to ignore it, but I was still waiting on a call from the person I had taken the Wells’ family pictures to have restored.

I glanced at the screen and silenced the phone seeing it was just my father. This mess with Nicole was bound to get his attention sooner than later, but I wasn’t going to deal with any of that right now.

Vince had said something when I missed poker night about how Emerald should be the higher priority. Tonight, my ~only~ priority was her.

I placed our order and took a drink of the fine wine.

“So, I’ve been thinking about what you said.” She cleared her throat. “About the charities. What do they support?”

“I’m afraid I don’t really know much about them.” I tapped the table thoughtfully.

“I know there’s a lot to do with kids. Scholarships and funding for private education when the public curriculum proves to be too little for them, colleges, things like that.

“There’re also heavy donations toward shelters and outreach programs for at-risk children in gang-heavy areas or abusive homes. Pretty sure there’s a lot for women in the same regards.”

“That’s great.” She smiled.

“Honestly, you want to talk to my grandmother. She knows the finer details,” I admitted.

“What about the homeless?” she asked.

“We own and run several shelters around the city and offer free dinner three times a week at most of them,” I said, surely. “Those and the food banks I helped brainstorm, so I know a little more about them.”

“Food banks?” she asked. “I didn’t know King Industries ran food banks.”

“And food delivery for the elderly.” I nodded. “Those only started up a few years ago, so not many people know of them if they aren’t one of the ones using them.”

“And you’re the mastermind behind them?” she asked as our soups were delivered.

“It’s kind of a funny story that you’re going to tease me about, no doubt.” I smirked at her.

“My car had a problem, and I was in a rush, so I left the driver to wait for the tow and took the subway. First and last time, I might add. I missed the stop or something because I ended up in Gretchen Park.”

She flinched, and I agreed. That place was run down and teeming with thugs, drugs, and crime. It was the dark, disgusting underbelly of the city, right next to the shit-stained asshole of Carver Hill.

“It was a sad, depressing sight. King Industries is supposed to help the communities that house us, but we had let our home fester and rot, completely ignoring the desperate need around us.” I shook my head.

“So, I fixed it. As much as I could anyhow. Something Gandy always told me was that you can only help someone as much as they’re willing to be helped.

“I didn’t fully understand what he meant until this past week. You can’t ~make~ someone take the help they need if they don’t want it.”

“You probably could have saved yourself a headache if you had remembered that sooner.” She gave me a look.

“It was that instance that made it finally click, actually.” I chuckled. “I tried putting more of my attention into the youth charities, but some of those are so technical and beyond my understanding from a legal standpoint.

“Most of the trouble was having a place for the ones fleeing abuse to stay until the legal matters were met. The shelters run by the city are depressingly underfunded and overcrowded.”

“All because you have the directional sense of an infant.” She giggled.

“Do you have an idea of which you would want to be a part of?” I asked.

“Not really. Not yet, anyhow,” she said.

“That’s fine. You have years of habit built up, so there’s no rush.” I nodded. “You said you went to college for public relations?”

“Not exactly.” She grimaced.

“Not a fun time?” I guessed.

“No, I loved it.” She sighed and got a slightly wistful look on her face. “I was studying analytical media tactics as a part of a program that wasn’t technically offered.”

“Okay, I’m curious now.” I lifted an eyebrow.

“And you weren’t before?” She smiled, taking a sip of her wine, apparently finished with her soup.

“I was headhunted in high school by—shit—a lot of people. Most were private sector security firms and PR companies. The military, too. See, I had shown a lot of promise in a number of fields that people like that wanted.

“I have a better than working knowledge of computers, the analytics of various situations and have the ability to come up with a tactic to assure the best possible outcome, to name a few.

“I was also good with debates and understanding large-scale legal matters.”

“Is there nothing you can’t do?” I chuckled.

“Public speaking.” She snorted. “It scares the shit out of me. But that was fine since most of the people that wanted me to work for them were needing me behind the scenes.”

“So, who did you go with?” I asked.

“No one.” She smiled. “I worked my ass into the ground to ~earn~ my place in college. I always liked the idea of taking on Big Media and making it my bitch, so I focused there first.

“Of course, it was part of a business course, so my major had to be related, so if you look up my transcript, you’d see marketing and public relations as a double major.”

“I really shouldn’t be shocked anymore, but you are just full of surprises, Emerald.” I smiled.

“Unfortunately, because I didn’t have a patron for my schooling, I had none of the benefits.” She shrugged.

“After Dad died, I went through extensive grief counseling. I missed an entire year of classes because I had to work to afford my sessions.

“Mom ended up diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and couldn’t be employed anymore, so I had to start working full time.”

“But you made it, right?”

“Kind of.” She shrugged. “I did get the job as your assistant, and it was pretty great. I got to hire Barbara and get my mom into her apartment.”

“That’s the only thing you liked about it?” I teased her.

“I liked bossing you around.” She laughed. “No, I liked the travel we did for meetings and events. I got to see and do things I had given up on.”

“You do know that most of those I could have managed on my own, right?” I laughed.

“What?” She stared as the soups were replaced with our main dishes.

“I didn’t technically ~have~ to take you with me for any of it, except for that retreat where we were gone for a week,” I admitted.

“~You~ told me to add myself to the itinerary.” She glared at me.

“I did, and I regret nothing.” I laughed. “The first time we went anywhere, you looked like you were having so much fun, I couldn’t not take you with me when I left the city after that.”

“You cheeky bastard.” She shook her head. “That was ~months~ ago.”

“You’ve had my attention since the second I saw you, Emerald. It’s only gotten better since then,” I admitted, looking at her.

“Getting to know you, however little that has been so far, is by far the best part of this past year.”

“Tate. Seriously, stop.” She made a face and took a big sip of her wine. “I don’t know what to do with all of that flattery, so stop before you send me into shock or something.”

“It’s the truth, not some cheap trick.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “I would never tell you something with the intention of manipulating you.”

“Damn you, Tate,” she hissed out and stood up. “Excuse me for a moment.”

~Dear fuck, what did I say now?~

I sat there, puzzling over how I pissed her off the whole time until she came back and sat down.

Her face was slightly flushed, and her hand shook as she reached for her glass of water, taking a long drink of it.

I watched her for a second before I noticed she was avoiding looking at me. Again, it took a bit longer than it should have to figure out what was going on.

“Emerald,” I said, my voice low, and she flushed again and found something interesting in her food, “did you do what I think you just did?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said meekly.

“Bullshit.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “You just made yourself cum, didn’t you?”

Her face turned red, and I groaned as I signaled for the check.

No. No way was I going to let her make that face, the one I wanted, no, ~needed~ to see again and keep it from me. Fuck that.

I handed the waiter far more than the bill and got up, taking Emerald’s hand in mine.

I had the valet bring my car, and we walked past the small crowd of reporters with cameras and recorders.

“Get in,” I said softly, and Emerald blinked at me when I held the door open for her.

That second of hesitation from her tipped my control just enough for me not to give a shit when I pulled her toward the car and kissed her.

Those lips that had haunted me for months with fantasies of how they would feel and taste were nothing compared to the reality and the memory did not do real time any justice.

It was like I was getting a peek into heaven. She was soft and timid but eagerly took in everything I gave her like she had only been surviving until now. Like she needed this in order to thrive again.

Her hands went to my shoulders, and her fingers held onto the lapels of my jacket, pulling the smallest bit to bring us closer.

She was so timid about asking for what she wanted; it was both endearing and frustrating. I broke away with a groan when she pressed herself against me.

“Get in the car, Emerald,” I whispered next to her ear.

“Before I do something we’re both going to enjoy the hell out of, right here in front of all these people and cameras, which I don’t think you’d enjoy much.”

“Tate,” she said with a soft sigh.

“I know, baby. We aren’t done here. Not by a long shot.”