Chad laughed on the other end. “Yes, you did,” he said. “Okay, so eight? Sound good?”
“Nine,” I said.
Chad laughed. “Okay, nine it is.”
My hands shook as I hung up and put the phone down on the table. I tried to control the beating in my chest. What the hell was I doing? Eight was fine. Why did I insist on nine? I sighed and threw my head back, running my fingers through my hair and shaking the strands about. I got up and walked over to the couch, noting the time on the wall. I had at least three hours to kill.
Damn it, Zoe, eight was fine.
But a part of me knew that it wasn’t.
Eight was definitely not fine.
I knew Chad, and a lot of men like him. The controlling type. The type that had to have their way. And for some stupid reason I was constantly drawn to them. Chad, Mark, and a bunch of others who never lasted more than a few weeks. They all wanted the same thing; control. And I was willing to give it to them.
Making sure Chad picked me up at nine instead of eight was like a silent shot at not letting him take control. It felt weird, much different than what I was used to, and I felt a small thrill race through me.
You’ve grown petty in your old age, haven’t you, Zoe?
Maybe. But this wasn’t some random first date. This was Chad Walters, owner of Body by Chad , and I needed to be on top of my game. The memory of my orgasm was still fresh I my mind, and if I didn’t get myself together, I’d have the real Chad in my shower by the end of dinner, doing whatever he wanted to me. And letting him do it willingly.
Would that be so bad?
The tingling between my legs surprised me, and I quickly pushed the thought away.
Yes, it would be bad.
Very bad.
But in a very good way…
* * *
Chad was waiting with a cab out front of my building at nine. When I came out the door he was leaning against the cab, looking like a Calvin Kline model at a photo shoot.
Dressed to kill in tight jeans, a black polo that showcased the chiseled body beneath, and a black blazer. He looked incredible. It was easy to see why he had such an internet reputation as a bad boy. Chad was always good looking, but now… wow…
“You look ravishing,” Chad said, taking me in with his eyes as he held open the taxi’s rear door. He took my hand to help me inside. The hem rode a bit over my knees and accentuated my long legs. I could see how his eyes immediately dropped to them before he gave me a hug and kissed me on the cheek. “I feel like I’m underdressed.”
“You look great,” I said with a smile. “Unless we’re going to get pizza, then we’re both kinda screwed.”
“Definitely not pizza.” He smiled and held out his hand. “Come, my lady, your chariot awaits.”
* * *
We rode in silence, both of us staring straight ahead. I didn’t want to be the first to break the silence, but it was slowly getting awkward. I had to say something, anything, and I turned to look at him.
The dim lights coming in from the streets dropped shadows across his face, making him look like a Greek God. I felt myself choke on my words, and quickly turned when his eyes shifted to me.
I looked out the window and tried to ignore the smug smile that appeared on his face.
Smooth, Zoe, real smooth.
* * *
Vittorio’s was packed, but the maître d’ showed us to a romantic table looking out at the indoor garden. The dim lighting and soft Italian music playing in the background only added to the mood. Conversation filled the small restaurant and bar, a mix of whispers and gentle laughter that made me feel like I had just walked into a movie.
I had been here before, a dinner gathering when Pleasing Him had first been released, but had never found the time to come again. I was surprised that Chad had chosen the restaurant. It wasn’t a place I had expected him to take me to.