Slade can see me, and I let him know with a smile and a nod that I’ll be just fine.
It’s just one outfit. Shouldn’t take too long.
Oh! They have shoes as well…
It must be a couple of hours later, and there are a ton of clothes, shoes, and accessories being loaded into the back of Slade’s car for me.
He has on the outfit he chose, a very nice looking casual suit with a white button down underneath.
About as fancy as I could imagine him though.
“What do you think?” he asks, showing off his new clothes before holding my door open, ignoring my remarks about him having spent way too much on me.
“It looks very nice,” I say, but he shrugs.
“Yeah, I never got into the whole fashion thing.”
He smiles, closes the door, and circles the front of the car.
Nice? The man looks freaking amazing.
I make sure to explain myself better once he’s in the car. Planting a big wet kiss on his cheek, and resting my hands on his thick thigh, I thank him the only way I can think of until we get somewhere private.
“Hope you’ve got room for dinner,” Slade growls in my ear, letting me know I should pick my best outfit because we have a dinner date at the restaurant in the hotel.
“Nothing too fancy, I hope.” Wondering if I’ll ever stop sounding like my mom and sound like I’m enjoying today as much as I really am.
“Nothing fancy,” Slade promises.
But can I get through dinner?
I know we can both feel this thing between us nearly past the point of boiling.
I’m practically wiggling in my seat by the time we pull up to the hotel.
The giant chrome and glass building seems impressive. Slade’s hand takes mine, walking me into the foyer which is like a stadium-sized version of the designer boutique we were just at.
“Pleasure to have you, Mr. And Mrs. Peters,” The concierge says, asking if we have any extra luggage. Anything to put in the hotel safe.
Y’know? Regular, welcome to our hotel stuff.
This is a much better reception than we got at the boutique.
Mr. and Mrs. Peters…
I don’t need to look at Slade’s face to see how much he likes the sound of that as much as I do.
From the second we walked in until the moment we’re left alone in our suite, we’re made to feel special. Much like Slade has probably planned, the five star treatment certainly shows and even though it comes at a hefty price tag, I can tell it’s not put on either.
Everything feels genuine.
I could get used to this.
If I could just feel like I was contributing somehow.
My upbringing hasn’t been five stars, but mom has done her best. And she never lets me forget it for a second.
I think that’s part of the problem.
It’s like I’m waiting for her to spring out from somewhere, screaming at me for trying to enjoy myself. Madder than hell that I’ve found happiness and she’s just… well. She’s just unhappy I guess.
“What’re you thinking about?” Slade asks, coming up behind me and running his hands over my shoulders once he’s tipped the bellhop and made sure we’re alone.
“Just admiring the view,” I tell him, half-truthfully.
The view from our suite is amazing.
“It’s the second most beautiful thing I’ve seen all day,” Slade croons, brushing the hair from my neck and nibbling at my ear, making me giggle. Making me forget about anything that isn’t him. Anything that isn’t us here right now.
His hands slide from my shoulders down to my chest and then my hips signaling more than just an interest in the view from him.
My breath catches when I feel his large hand gliding between my legs. My knees almost buckle under his powerful touch.
He takes my weight, my body leaning heavily against his but his size and strength could hold me a dozen different ways all day as if I weighed nothing.
And that’s something I suddenly feel like exploring, more than any hotel suite, shopping spree, or dining room.
“You smell so good,” Slade murmurs, reading my mind, repeating what I’m already thinking about him.
How good he smells, how good he feels.
How hard the man gets.
How big he…
“Maybe we could be late to dinner,” I suggest, and Slade growls deeply.
His body tense against mine.
“And maybe I can have dessert up here. But I wanna see you in your new outfit first,” he says, meaning I’m dessert.
I’m not used to so much attention, but the idea of a romantic dinner before giving myself to Slade is perfect. Like everything, he comes up with.
I nod and practically purr, shivering again when his hands glide over my front, wishing my hands were bigger so I could grip more of him as they reach behind me.
“Get dressed for me,” Slade instructs in a firm tone. “And I’ll show you just what you do to me,” he adds, teasing me by guiding my hand over his hardness.