Chapter 9
MEL
I place my fork down, satisfied after the world’s most delicious dark chocolate sorbet.
“That was the most incredible meal I have ever eaten,” I sigh, draining my sweet, sticky dessert wine.
We’ve spent almost the entire meal chatting about my staunchly middle-class upbringing in Mt. Vernon, to the city’s north, college courses, and Pete’s work. He hasn’t been able to give me names or details, but the gist of it sounds a mixture of really cool and so freaking boring I would want to rip my eyelashes out.
I didn’t get a chance to peek at the bill, but I have a feeling it might be almost a month’s rent. The food was to die for, but still….
He takes my hand again while we walk out of the restaurant, waiting for the valet to bring his fancy BMW around. Just like it did when he tangled our fingers together when we arrived, as he takes my hand, his thumb stroking back and forth over mine, my heart thuds, and my stomach clenches. I have more than a little crush on Pete, even if he’s not my type.
“Thank you for dinner,” I whisper. Pete turns his head down to look at me, his eyes warming as he smiles.
“You’re very welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed it, even with all the surprise courses.”
“They were my favorite.”
He chuckles, accepting his keys off the valet and opening my door, letting go of my hand as he does. I miss the warmth of his almost immediately but slide into the car. Pete rounds the hood, getting in and pulling out of the circular drive.
I’m starting to get excited again. I wonder what show we’re going to see. My mouth starts to move before I register what I’m saying.
“It’s like a dream. Fancy dinner and a show. Work on Monday is going to seem like coming back to earth with a thud.”
“Work?” Pete frowns, looking across the car at me. “I didn’t realize they held alumni events on a Monday night.”
“They don’t,” I admit, my voice small. His eyebrow arches imperiously, like a silent command to tell him what I mean by work. I bristle, but again, my mouth moves before I permit it to.
“At Sea Nest. My internship.”
His lips press into a thin, disapproving line. Oops. This wasn’t how I was supposed to tell him.
“I thought we discussed you not taking the job.”
“We discussed the possibility of me turning it down. But I decided the benefits outweighed the risks.”
“I see.” His voice is curt. Oh shit. Have I ruined the date? How can he spank me in the car on the way to the theater? He cuts across a lane, anger vibrating off him, pulling up outside a small strip mall.
Okay. This definitely isn’t the theater. Shit. I have ruined the date.
“Stay in the car,” Pete growls, shoving out of it. I crane my neck, but I can’t see where he disappears to. Shit. Maybe he’s calling me a cab.
I jump as Pete’s door opens, my nerves keyed up as I worry about whether I’m about to be kicked out of his car. He slides in, holding a nondescript brown paper bag. His eyes slide over me, but he simply drops the bag in my lap, starting the car and pulling back out into traffic.
“Put those on,” he says, his eyes not moving off the road.
My eyes drop to the bag in my lap. Slowly opening it, I peek in, my cheeks flushing with heat. It’s a pair of black lacy panties with silk ribbons at the sides. The crotch is heavy, something smooth inserted into the pocket there. My fingers close around the second thing in the bag, and my cheeks flame. It’s a remote.
Holy shit. He’s bought vibrating panties for me. I swallow, still blushing as I reach under my skirt, shimmying off my pink lacy panties.
“I’ll take those.”
Pete’s hand appears in front of my face, palm up. Waiting for me to put my panties in it. Swallowing again, I carefully place my panties in his hand, watching out of the corner of my eye as he shoves them into the pocket of his suit pants.
I awkwardly manage to get the panties on while still strapped in, and carefully settle the crotch, so it isn’t uncomfortable. I’m not sure what he wants me to do with the remote. Picking it up, I blink as his long fingers snatch it out of my hand, and it disappears into his pocket as well.
“You’re not going to turn them on?” I whisper, my voice sounding loud in the otherwise silent car.
“Not yet,” Pete replies, his voice more controlled and less furious now. “When you least expect it.”
Oh god. I just hope if he does it at the theater, I don’t yelp and make everyone look at me.
There is another valet at the theater. Seriously, this is the life. Pete takes my hand, curling his fingers around mine as he leads me inside, handing over our coats at the coat check and our tickets at the box office. We follow the crowd, stopping at the bar.
Accepting two glasses of champagne from the bartender, Pete hands one to me, tapping it with his and holding my gaze as we take a sip.
“Wait here,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb over mine and releasing my hand. “I have to go and speak to someone. I’ll be right back.”
Nodding mutely, I take another sip of my champagne as he walks off, stopping about forty feet away to speak with an older couple. They both glance over in my direction when he talks to them. Pete glances over as well, smirking and putting his hand into his pocket as he sips his champagne and keeps chatting.
A whimper rips from my lips as the vibrator sitting against my clit starts up, a low hum, rubbing the lacy material over me. Oh god. I take a quick sip of champagne.
“Are you all right, my dear?” A kindly older woman dressed in floral lace and so many diamonds she looks like a chandelier smiles at me. Oh right, the noise I just made.
“Yes,” I gasp, forcing a smile. “I stubbed my toe on the way in and just flexed it.”
“Oh, isn’t that just awful? I hate stubbing my toe,” she smiles.
The vibrations in my panties kick it up a notch. I cover another whimper with a forced laugh.
“It could have been worse. I could have been wearing open-stilettos.”
As she agrees and moves away, my eyes find Pete’s. He’s watching me with heated eyes and a smirk playing over his lips, his hand still in his pocket. I bite down on my lower lip, and he says something to his companions, moving back across the room to me.
“It’s almost time for the show to start. Are you ready to go in?”
“Yes,” I reply breathlessly. Pete accepts my champagne glass, leaving both on the bar and sliding his hand into mine again as he leads me through to the doors.
My panties are still vibrating at the higher level. “Uh, Pete,” I hiss.
“Yes?” he whispers back, smiling as he shows our ticket stubs to the usher, who points us in the direction of our seats.
“Aren’t you going to turn this thing off?”
Pete squeezes my hand, releasing it and sliding his hand up my back instead, caressing when he reaches the bare skin in the middle of my back, exposed by the low cut of my dress.
“No. I think you’re such a good girl that you can handle it.”
Oh god. This is my punishment. I think I preferred spanking. At least it happened in relative privacy. There are so many other people here!
Thankfully, as we take our seats, I realize we aren’t as exposed as I originally thought we would be. We are sitting at the back of a box. I am on the end, Pete beside me with two other seats beside him and four in front.
When we sit, Pete takes my hand again, drawing it onto his thigh and covering it with his other one, squeezing lightly. I focus on regulating my breathing, so no one looks over and wonders why the hell I’m panting over here like a weirdo.
The other seats in our box fill up, including with the older couple Pete was speaking to in the bar earlier. They smile and nod, taking a seat in the front row, opposite ours.
The lights go down, and Pete’s thumb starts stroking over the back of my hand. A glance at his face tells me he is still smirking, though his eyes are focused on the stage. I turn my eyes to it as well as the heavy red curtains pull back, the orchestra starting to play, and the lights dimming.
I squirm a little in my seat, trying to pay attention to the play. It seems interesting, and the music is great. But I’m too distracted by my panties.
Pete’s hand disappears off the top of mine, sliding into his pocket. I keep staring at the stage, my eyes almost watering from the effort to keep them open as he slowly dials up the vibrations. Holy shit. It feels like an entire colony of bees is buzzing against my clit. In a really, really good way. Oh god!
Biting down on my lip to stifle any wayward moans, my fingers tighten, clenching at Pete’s hand and the arm of my seat as I come. I’m so proud of myself that I managed to swallow any sounds. That was difficult. That was amazing.
My eyes dart over to Pete, who is staring at me now, his lips slightly parted. The vibrations cease almost immediately, his hand sliding out of his pocket and covering mine again, his thumb resuming its slow stroking. Pete turns his face back to the stage with one last heated gaze.
Now I’m sated, and my panties have stopped buzzing, I can actually concentrate on the play. It’s incredible. I totally want to come again - when I can focus on the whole thing. I probably won’t get to sit in such amazing seats, but that’s okay. I think I’m officially in love with the theater, and that’s not my recent orgasm talking.