A blissful expression descended on Rob’s face, and hidden from view was his girl, working hard to keep his mood one of pure delight.
Chapter Fifteen: Dining Out
Casey felt very self-conscious as her heels clicked loudly on the ma
rble floor. It sounded like a tiny horse’s hooves, and she tried hard to tiptoe to dampen the sound. Her hand gripped Rob’s tightly as he led her across the atrium towards the double doors. She knew he would hold the door open for her, and he did, ushering her into the waiting room.
Immediately the hubbub of voices and the clinging of wine glasses and cutlery filled her ears. The elegance of the dining room was not lost on her. Cream drapes allowed light through the window but protected diners from prying eyes. Glass chandeliers picked up the light and transmitted it around the room, hitting brass framed mirrors and bouncing back. Everything exuded money and style. Casey’s hand trembled a fraction more, and she turned to see Rob smiling at her.
The table was in a corner, and the waiter helped her slip into her chair, offering her a menu. Casey did not open it but lay it on the table. In the seat at right angles to her was Rob, and he ordered aperitifs. The small measure of alcohol would counteract her nerves. Why she was so struck with anxious feelings seemed to amuse Rob but perplexed Casey. He had told her of his intention to take her to an extravagant restaurant several days previously. The red dress she wore was one he chose, and it fit her like a glove—sleek, tight, and moulded around her bosom and hips. When she moved, it went with her like an extra layer of skin. Rob’s tuxedo was as she expected: the perfect refinement to his lean, muscular figure.
Each dish ordered required the correct cutlery, and Casey watched Rob as he selected the chosen implement off the table surface. She copied and concentrated hard on being an elegant moving statue. No munching loudly and no licking her lips. Instead, she dabbed with a napkin. No slurping water from the crystal glass, and strictly no gawping at the other diners.
She was not permitted to cross her legs, and now and again Rob reached under the tablecloth to check that they were slightly parted for him. The lack of panties was another particular requirement of his that he had imparted an hour before they left the house. Standing in the bedroom closet, she had been about to put knickers on, and he had simply shook his head at her.
“Oh,” she had muttered. Being without panties in the privacy of their house was fine by her, but out and about she struggled to meet his request; her dress was not long.
The couple spoke softly to each other over the courses, which were made up of small portions of expensive ingredients. Casey had been with Rob long enough to finally understand the nature of his work, and she had grasped the terminology and intricacies sufficiently to join in and discuss his thoughts and ideas without sounding especially naïve or foolish.
Dessert arrived, and the cream was as rich and fresh as if it had come straight from the farm. Everything Rob had chosen off the menu had been delicious and was met with pleasant compliments and comments by the pair. Casey’s trembling had ceased, and the alcohol had unwound her nervous disposition.
“What would you say if I told you I want you to come for me here and now?” Rob suddenly said.
Casey giggled. “Oh like that film, you know, with Meg what’s-her-name.”
“Except she faked hers. I don’t want you to fake yours,” said Rob quietly, leaning forward to catch Casey’s eye.
She went pink and leaned towards him. “You’ve got to be kidding. I mean… why, and you know I’m not exactly quiet. I could beat Meg what’s-her-name hands down for noise.”
“Why? Because I want you to, and it would be lovely to see your appreciation of me.”
“Rob, don’t be silly. I mean… I’m not that, you know, hot for it.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No,” she said sheepishly.
“So if I stuck my fingers between your legs, you would be dry as a bone?” he teased, and his fingers crawled over her thigh like a spider.
“Please!” she hissed and dropped her spoon on the plate with a clang.
“Apart please, Casey,” he said with an expectant look.
Casey’s heart went ballistic with racing beats, and her legs froze. Rob stared at her expectantly, and his dark eyes were irresistible, calling for her obedience as the other diners continued their own private conversations. The restaurant was small, and there were perhaps less than two dozen people seated about the room—couples and small groups of three or four, made up of various ages. They did not appear to have any interest in Casey and Rob.
“Casey, do you want to be spanked?” he said into her ear.
“Now you are winding me up,” she said.
“Am I?” he asked softly.
“What about all these people?” Casey put down her spoon and stared back at Rob. A small daring part of her wanted the thrill of being exposed and coming in such a public arena, but the other more major part of her persona refused to countenance the idea. It would be mortifying and quite impossible for her to achieve a sexual climax in the presence of strangers. “The whole time I’ve know you, Rob, you’ve never done anything in public.”
Rob rose from his seat and held out his hand to Casey. “Shall we find out?”
Eyes opened widely and glancing around, she expected everyone to stop in their tracks and watch them. But nobody batted an eyelid since Rob was merely requesting her to stand up, nothing unusual about his request.
Nervously Casey stood and took his hand. Her legs began to wobble, and a strange sensation crawled under her dress and across her skin.