True Bliss (8 page)

On the Zander scale of hotness, where Zander is a ten, this guy is a firm nine. Instantly, my night starts to look up.

Standing up to greet him, I'm shocked when he hands me a bouquet of red roses.

“Oh, they're beautiful, Spencer. Thank you.”

I put my hand out to shake his and gasp when he pulls my hand up to his lips and places a gentle kiss on my knuckles. “Please forgive my tardiness. I got stuck on a late conference call. I'm so glad you waited for me.”

“With flowers and an apology like that, you're forgiven,” I say with a smile.

“I hope so. Otherwise, I'd have to spend the rest of the evening making it up to you. What a shame that would be.” He gives me a gorgeous grin before pulling out my chair so I can take a seat again and rounding the table to sit down opposite me.

“Have they taken your order yet?”

“No, I thought I'd wait for you.”

“Well, I can't have you going hungry now, can I? You never know what you might need your energy for later,” he replies with a wink just as Brandi appears at our table again.

“Mr. Carrington,” she says deadpan. 

“Holly,” he muses, not taking his eyes off me. I have to admit, this man oozes charm. Since he arrived, he hasn't stopped looking at me, but not raking his eyes over my body like he only has one thing on his mind either. I'm talking about looking in my eyes; it's unsettling and amazing all at once.

“I've just ordered another glass of wine for you from the bar. Would you like to order your meals?” she asks him, not looking at me. Now that Spencer has arrived, she seems to have returned to her professional self. Her tone when she speaks to him is not the warm, friendly voice she greeted me with. It's cold, deadpan, and full of some unknown emotion I can't quite pinpoint.

Picking up the menu, he looks over it before nodding at her. “That would be great,” he replies, looking over at me. “Kate, have you had a chance to look at the menu while I so rudely kept you waiting?”

“No, but I've heard you come here often, so why don't you surprise me?” I say suggestively. That glass of wine must have gone to my head already. I'm such a lush.

“Oh, now the gauntlet has been laid. Prepare to be amazed, my sweet Kate.” Wow. It seems like the food seduction class is now in session, and by god, has Spencer just gone to the head of the class. My mind quickly floats between images of him hand-feeding me selections from a delicious antipasto platter, to mouth-watering Tiramisu being licked off my lips.

Spencer clears his throat, immediately snapping me out of my thoughts. The grin on his face is all-knowing, almost like he had a direct link to my thoughts.

“You look beautiful tonight, Kate. I'm so sorry I was late. I would have loved seeing you arrive looking as ravishing as you do tonight.”

“Oh, thank you,” I say, looking down at the table meekly. I'm not used to this kind of praise. I know I haven't been beaten with the ugly stick or anything, but to be called beautiful and ravishing does something special to a girl's ego.

He leans over the table, placing a finger underneath my chin ever so gently to lift my gaze back to him. “Hey, it's not a line, you know. You are the most beautiful woman here.”

“Well, you're not looking too bad yourself, Spencer,” I reply with a sly smile.

“Glad you approve,” he murmurs as another waiter delivers his glass of white wine to our table.

He lifts his glass to me, which I emulate. “To meeting new people. Especially breathtaking women like yourself,” he toasts with a swoon-worthy smile that screams all prince and no wolf. It's very endearing.

“To meeting new people,” I repeat before clinking my glass with his and taking a demure sip from my glass, closing my eyes as the flavors swirl around my mouth. I will say one thing, the guy knows his wine.

We talk about our jobs, and I find out he is an entrepreneur. When I try pressing him further, he pushes the conversation back on me. He asks about my job, my family, my home life. It is like he wants to know everything about me. What it doesn't explain is the dismissive looks he gives to both Holly and the waiter serving us if they even try to talk to us. It's like Spencer is one way with me, and a completely different person with everyone else.

When Mac's twenty minute text comes through, I excuse myself to the restroom and text her back, letting her know he has arrived and that everything is fine.

But then it happens. The surreal moment when his phone starts ringing and he holds his finger up to his mouth, asking me to be quiet as he answers the phone call.

FROM HIS WIFE.

Yes. Princeinwolfsclothing, aka Spencer Carrington, is, in fact, married.

MARRIED.

Tell me you saw that coming because that is not the outcome I was expecting. 

I am so pissed off, then angry at myself for being so impulsive. What was I thinking, accepting a date without chatting with the guy for at least more than a few short messages?

The minute he answers that call and says 'honey' down the phone, I look to his left hand ring finger to see the clear-as-day tan line from a missing wedding ring. When he ends the call and puts his phone on the table, he looks over at me warily, like he is waiting to gauge my reaction.

“You're married?” I ask incredulously.

“Will my answer make a difference?”

I stand up from the table, spin around on my pretty black heels, and walk straight out of there, without wasting another word on the man. Holly gives me a sympathetic look as I walk past her, but I'm too furious to care at that point. Not only has the entire evening been a sham, but I'm leaving without trying any of the damn tiramisu.

What does a girl have to do to get a good freaking dessert these days?

ZANDER

I've taken this weekend off. I need some time out. From life, from stripping, from being pawed at. Stripping has become a necessary evil, and I swear to God, it's starting to suck the life out of me. I lose a little bit more of my soul with every pelvic thrust and bicep curl.

I go to the bar with Zach and we sit back and have a few drinks, relaxing, people watching and enjoying the show that the female clientele are putting on for us on the dance floor. All in all, a great night out with my best friend. But when I get home, all I can think about is Kate. What is she doing tonight? Who is she with? Is she on another date? Will this date be 'the one' for her?

My pursuit of Kate, or lack thereof, is starting to consume my thoughts. I wake up thinking about her, imagining her warm naked body covering mine, her gorgeous red hair draped across her shoulders and onto my chest. I wonder what she's doing...if she's having a good day...what she's thinking about... Seriously, this is getting to be a problem.

I login to Chicago Singles, and like the sad sap that I've become, I send her a message and wait, hoping that she'll come online again. It seems to be part of her routine now to login late at night before going to bed.

Nightdancer23: Hey, Firebird. How was your night? I just got home from having a few drinks with my roommate. Anyway, I hope you've had a great night.

Nightdancer23: Was hoping to chat a bit more about you, maybe play a Q&A game for a bit of fun?

For fuck's sake, Zan, reel it in and pipe the fuck down. I sound like a love struck teenager, but what can I say? The only way I'm going to get to know more about Kate is to push her to open up to me. I don't want to end up boxed into the friend category without being given a chance.

I waste time surfing the net and watching dance videos online for routine inspiration until I hear the anticipated ping of a new message.

Fireinthesky24: Hey. Just got home. Night was horrific.

Nightdancer23: Wanna talk about your night? I don't like the idea of anything horrific happening to you, especially if it was a date. It brings out my protective instinct.

Fireinthesky24: Would rather not relive the humiliation, but thank you for asking, it's very sweet of you. What kind of Q&A game have you got in mind? I hope it's something fun, I'm in desperate need of some fun.

Oh yes, my sweet Kate. I can bring the fun.

Nightdancer23: Of course, everything in life should be fun. Well except those things that are never fun, like enemas and Monday mornings. How about we just start off with a few 'getting to know you' questions and see where the night takes us?

I read then reread the message before sending. I don't want to push too hard, but at the same time, I don't want to sit back and leave her to meet someone else without putting my hand up and making a move.

Fireinthesky24: *giggles* Okay, but let me down these two shots of Patron first, and I'll warn you, I'm a little loose-lipped when tipsy, so you'd better be on your best behavior, dancer boy ;)

Hell yes! Now that is what I'm talking about. Relaxed, playful Kate is in the house. Think Zander, what can I ask first?

Fireinthesky24: Shot one and two taken care of, shot three poured for when I get my first question wrong, haha. My roommate and her boyfriend are asleep, so it's just you and me and my friend, Patron. Are you drinking too? Because I hate to drink alone. Ok, my turn first. Favorite color?

Nightdancer23: Favorite Color of what? ;)

Fireinthesky24: Touché! Favorite color in general?

Nightdancer23: Blue

Fireinthesky24: Such a boy! Okay, favorite color on a woman?

Now, do I get straight to the point or skirt around it? Hmm…

Nightdancer23: Blue eyes, red hair ;)

Fireinthesky24: Oh c'mon! Too cheesy! You'll need to try harder to impress me!

Nightdancer23: Okay then, back at you. Favorite color?

Fireinthesky24: Red everything ;)

Nightdancer23: *groans* my mind is going places it shouldn't be ;)

Fireinthesky24: Oooh, tell me!

Shit! I walked into that one! Okay, they say honesty is the best policy, right? Fuck, I'm starting to sound like a chick!

Nightdancer23: And onto the next question…

Fireinthesky24: No no no, mister dancer, tell me what you were thinking about. Maybe I want you to think about that ;)

No way! Is she playing me at my own game? Surely not. Dammit, I can't even text Mac to find out for me either.

Nightdancer23: Okay, then. Red lingerie on a body like yours would look sexy as hell.

Fireinthesky24: I'm too tipsy to come up with a witty comeback, but yes, I do own a lot of sexy red lingerie…

Nightdancer23: *bangs head on keyboard repeatedly* You do know that I'm going to have that image running through my mind for the rest of the night now, right?

Fireinthesky24: Glad to be of service ;) Just add it to the bank.

Nightdancer23: Firebird, you're killing me! Now it's my turn. Favorite movie?

Fireinthesky24: General consumption or pornographic?

Fuck! I need to start drinking, or else I'm going to be pulling myself off with one hand and typing with the other. I walk out of my bedroom and grab a beer from the fridge, popping the cap and taking a long swig before returning to my room and the naughty Kate on my laptop.

Nightdancer23: Both. Damn, you're feisty and dirty when drunk. I'm liking it, a LOT!

Fireinthesky24: Yeah, I kind of let loose when I'm drunk. Last time I was this far gone was about six months ago at our local bar with my best friend and her stripper booty call. We started a drinking game, and because I liked him, I ended up trying to touch my elbows behind my back, pretty much thrusting my boobs in his face.

Seriously, that was one of the highlights of the night, other than kissing her. The taste of her mouth was addictive, almost intoxicating. More potent than a shot of any liquor. The way she moaned into my mouth as I took control of the kiss drove me crazy. All I could think about was making her moan again. My hands grew a life of their own as they gripped her hips, holding her gorgeous body hard up against mine as we continued to release the pent up energy into that one moment. By the time I got home, I was kicking my ass for not taking the chance to see where things with Kate could go.