The Boss's Son | ✅

9

Warning: This chapter contains a man and a woman copulating for the pure fun of it. Skip or enjoy, your choice.

He speared the last of his appetizer and devoured it with such pleasure I couldn't be sure he'd been listening to what I said. Maybe his senses were all occupied otherwise. Delicious food could do that to you.

When the corners of his mouth twitched, I knew however, that he was only toying with me. He had heard me very well. After another sip of his wine he asked, "Do I need to be afraid now?"

"No." I put my fork down and waited for our plates to be cleared. "The most outrageous that I found about you is a parking ticket that isn't paid yet – due date is tomorrow by the way – and that you didn't finish your private school education in Europe."

He propped his chin up on his hand, his thumb running over the stubble of his beard underneath it. "Well, there was this incident in third grade when I took part in this brawl with the class bully Chad and was forced to do kitchen duty for a week." He looked over to me, resembling the proud little boy that stood up for himself.

"Scandalous!" I exclaimed, making the waitress jump who brought out our entrée. The steak was still sizzling on the iron skillets so that the butter on top was melting rapidly. We gave her the space to do her job. When she was finished, Adrian nodded to her unspoken question and she hurried away.

"I know," he picked up our conversation as if the interruption never happened. Picking up his fork and knife, he savored the aroma that hit his nose, before he placed his first well-placed cut. "I admit though, it's probably still not enough to keep up with an investigative reporter, picking fights with influential people left and right."

I blushed and smiled. "So, you read up on me as well." The idea pleased me a lot. It meant that there was an interest beyond just the physical.

"Compared to you I fear though, I come sourly unprepared," he replied.

I leaned back in my chair, watching him dismember his meat. "Are you mad at me for digging deep?"

"Me?" he asked surprised and shook his head. "Not at all. Finally, there is a sign of common sense and self-preservation; both of which I started to fear, you lacked completely."

"Is that what you think of me?" The surprise was all mine now. It wasn't about the judgement itself – I heard that before. Repeatedly. Hell, my boys constantly complained about my inability to recognize danger when it would come with a big sign and an engraved invitation. But to hear it from him after how the evening had went so far, was unexpected.

He was unfazed though, and acted like he had no care but his steak. "I think of you that you will be a challenge for me. I prefer to be the protector."

"Won't happen." I shook my head vehemently. My stepfather hadn't raised me to depend on any man. Not even for Adrian I would cross that line.

He grinned at his plate. "I realized that when I saw the knife on your leg and the lock pick set in your purse." When he looked up after, one eyebrow arched, his eyes were one smoldering challenge.

"Perceptive," I mumbled. The food in my stomach turned to stone. He had caught me. He had seen it all and had said not a word. What did he think I had been up to? What was this evening all about? Did he invite me to show me how stupid and weak I was, unworthy of the opponents I tried to bring down? Was he in bed with Rizzoli and this all a set up for – what? Nothing I had found on him pointed to the fact. I couldn't believe I had read him so wrongly. Yet, I tensed, ready to at least deliver a fight if nothing else.