***
When Jim arrived at the apartment he had a bouquet of roses in his arms, and an eager, puppy dog smile.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Hello, beautiful,” he burbled, chipper as a chipmunk. “I got these for you. Hope you like them!” he added cheerily before blushing red as a beet.
Even though the gesture was sweet, all I wanted to do was groan. Because Mason would never be like this. He’d ravage my form, tickling my pussy with the petals of a flower before driving that big dick into my ass.
And even worse, that’s what I wanted. None of this shy pansy stuff. I wanted a real man, rough and ready to ride.
So I smiled weakly.
“They’re real nice,” I answered. “Let me just put them in some water.”
“Okay,” Jim beamed.
Why was I doing this? I was only leading the poor sap on. I had to break things off with him. Accepting his flowers was not helping the situation.
Fuck.
I came back into the foyer and forced a smile.
“Ready?”
I thought about breaking the bad news right then and there, but Jim had already taken my elbow possessively, steering me to the car. Limp as a noodle, I sat in the passenger seat, hands in my lap, desperately trying to form words. But it was like my brain had stopped working.
And soon enough, we arrived at the restaurant.
Shit. This was the super fancy Italian restaurant that had just opened, touting their authentic Sicilian fare and tasty bufala mozzarella. Oh no, Jim had really pulled out the stops.
Even worse, it was only then that I realized he’d dressed up for our date. Button-down shirt. Slacks. Hair combed back. The man was making a serious effort to impress me and yet, here I was, about to break up with him.
My heart tightened with guilt.
Would I be able to do this? Would I be able to reject this puppy dog?
I bit my lip, unsure.
But Jim had no idea of my thoughts. He opened the door for me and helped me out, holding onto my hand a little too tightly. His palms were sweaty. He was nervous.
I couldn’t help but compare. If Mason were here, he wouldn’t be nervous. Instead, I’d have one big arm firmly planted around my waist, pulled close to the heat of the big man.
By comparison, Jim held my hand like a limp noodle and shuffled forward, sweat dripping down his temples.
The nightmare just kept getting worse. Because once we were inside, the hostess smiled, nodding, and led us to a private, candle-lit table for two. What? Again, red roses. This time as the centerpiece.
Fuck. This was not looking good.
Despite my brain yelling at me to run far, far away, I sat down numbly. It would be rude to leave now.
Seeing nothing, I grabbed the menu, the words crawling like ants. The air around us grew thick with tension, but Jim didn’t even know.
“So how was your day?” he asked with an eager smile.
“Good,” I mumbled, hiding my face behind the menu.
“Mine too! I was able to get out of work a little earlier. Another kitten came in today. No one’s come to claim her yet. I’m seriously considering adopting her. I don’t know, it might be nice to have a little companion to greet me when I come home. She could snuggle up on my lap while I play video games. What do you think?”
He beamed and blinked, so proud to be an expectant daddy.
God. This was going to be difficult, but it was something that needed to be done.
I took a sip of water to wet my lips. The liquid went down slow and difficult to swallow.
Taking a deep breath, I finally uttered the dreaded words. “Jim, I’m sorry, but we can’t keep seeing each other. It’s over.”
Jim looked at me, eyes wide, looking a dead fish at the supermarket. Even his mouth gaped as if he no longer knew how to breathe.
Fuck.
Now I felt bad.
My heart tightened with guilt.
How could I just break it off with a nice guy like Jim?
But I knew exactly why I was doing it.
Mason Evercore.
The man had consumed my every thought and he had even crept into my dreams, causing me to wake up in a puddle of my own juices. God. The mere thought of him was making me hot. My panties were probably already wet. It didn’t take much when he was on my mind. He had a way of turning me into a naughty little vixen.
And I loved it.
Jim kept staring at me, hurt in his eyes. I couldn’t stand to see him like this so I was about to politely excuse myself when, to my horror, he started to cry.
In public.
Right at the table, with other diners around us.
Oh god, no.
It wasn’t subtle either. Not at all. In fact, it was like we were inside one of those old black and white cartoons where characters burst into tears that flooded.