Grayson might have been a pervert, but he wasn't a monster.
Before we headed inside the restaurant, we sat in the car while I tidied my makeup and hair. I had a little capsule of perfume. I sprayed myself with it liberally, hoping to hide the scent of sex clinging to the dress. With any luck, the smell of food and wine would overpower anything that might otherwise waft from me.
Despite all my efforts, I was self-conscious as we stepped through the door. Classical music rolled in calm waves and rising crescendos beneath the sound of polite chatter, clinking glasses, and cutlery tapping against porcelain. Grayson kept his hand on my back to guide me through the tables behind the host who'd greeted us at the entrance. My chair was pulled out, and I forced a polite smile as I settled into it, hoping that any nerves the man sensed might be put down to dating jitters and not because I had a sex toy inside of me.
Sitting down was much easier than walking, and the menu provided enough of a distraction that, by the time we'd both decided what we wanted to order, I'd almost forgotten that Grayson had a remote in his pocket which was tethered to both my pleasure and torment.
We chatted idly. I'd thought it might be difficult to settle on a topic of conversation when we lived together, but I started by asking Grayson about work and he was happy to offload. Of course, I had an ulterior motive for keeping things mundane. I'd been warned that Grayson would turn the toy on whenever he thought I was having naughty thoughts. He'd been purposely vague about what those thoughts might be. I mean, would he have the dildo twist and pulse inside me because I wanted dessert? Or was it reserved for any time he assumed I'd pictured him pinning me down and fucking me like an animal?
I jolted in my seat. The vibration was a mere burst. The short, sharp shock against my clit made me clench my thighs together. Grayson smirked. Holy shit, he hadn't been joking about being able to read my mind. That, or he just got lucky. It could've been that I was an open book, and he could read everything on my face. Grayson had known me long enough to learn about my various expressions, although I'd never considered he might have cared enough to pay attention.
Satisfied that I'd been suitably punished for filling my head with sinful ideas, Grayson returned to the conversation as though nothing had happened. Meanwhile, I had to focus on steadying my pulse and willing the blush from my cheeks. If anyone had noticed what he'd done, they didn't comment on it. In fact, no one turned in our direction at all. They were much too interested in their own company to care what we were doing.
Rather, what Grayson was doing.
"What?" he asked innocently. "I gave you fair warning."
"You're going to get us caught," I hissed back at him.
"Us?" Grayson smirked. "I'm not the one who can't behave, Kitten."
I stabbed my fork into my appetizer and resolved not to make eye contact until I trusted that Grayson had lost interest in his game. My single-word responses to the conversation must have given the impression that I was sulking because, between courses, he reached out and placed his hand over mine in a tender gesture.
"Tell me about college," he said. "I'm running out of things to say about work."
I flicked my gaze upward to meet his eyes. "Really? You do remember why I came home in the first place, right?"
"Let's not relive that part."
"Then, what else is there to say?" I asked.
"I'm interested in your plans," Grayson clarified. "After summer."
I paled. I didn't want to think about the end of summer, not least because Dad would be home and everything between us would come to a screeching halt. That we could continue was a childish notion. Sure, the idea that I loved Grayson buzzed around my brain daily, and he had called me his girlfriend, but it didn't mean Dad would magically accept the idea of us. In fact, when faced with his long-time best friend, Grayson may very well dump me just to keep the peace.
I brought my glass to my lips and sipped my wine. As the designated driver, Grayson hadn't touched a drop. A pity, because this felt like a conversation to be shared between two people of equal sobriety.
"I don't know," I confessed. "When Dad comes home, I'll talk to him about it. He'll know what I should do."
Grayson squeezed my fingers. "I'm not asking what you think your dad will tell you to do. I'm asking what you want to do."
"I want..."
I faltered when I looked down at his hand. I knew what I wanted; for everything to stay the same as it was. For time to freeze so that I could just live in a moment with Grayson forever without thinking about Trey, college, Dad, or anything else that might come between us. Possibly without a dildo in my pussy in the middle of a fancy restaurant but, you know, that was a minor detail in this otherwise perfect day.
Of course, there was no way I could tell Grayson that.
Sure, some guys might be flattered that a woman wanted to throw their lives away to be with them, but he'd never struck me as that sort of person. A few cancelled plans here and there was nothing in the long term, but dropping out of college? That was on a whole other level. No, he'd never accept that as my answer. Well, he might accept that I wanted to drop out so long as I didn't make it clear that he was the reason.
"I can't go back there," I said at last.
"Because of Trey?"
"And Anna." I paused to take another sip of wine. I hadn't counted on getting emotional. "We were best friends, you know? Losing her hurt more than Trey. I'm still mad at her, and I don't even want him anymore."
"Can't deny that I'm always happy to be reassured of that," he said.
"Of all people, you should know just how over him I am."
Grayson smiled. "Well, I suspected. Although, if you decide to head back, after all, I'd understand. You can come back to stay at my place during your breaks. We can decide which kitchen we prefer if you catch my drift."
"I really can't face it," I reiterated. "Everything about that place just makes me think about what they did. I know I wouldn't be able to focus if I was there."
"So, you're gonna transfer?" Grayson asked.
"Maybe. That is something I need to speak to Dad about. He might be able to pull some strings."
"What if he can't?"
Another pause.
Oh.
I set down my wine. I hadn't even thought about that possibility. I'd assumed that Dad had enough pull at his workplace to make them find space for me on a course so I could finish out my degree. His wasn't the only college in the country, but I hadn't even started to research other locations. Hell, I'd barely done the necessary work to transfer anywhere. The end of summer loomed ever closer. At this rate, only divine intervention would secure me a place anywhere.
"I... I'll get a job, I guess? Pick it back up in a year."
"If it comes to that, Kitten, you can always intern at my company."
"Right," I scoffed. "Because that'll end well. Did you forget what happened the last time I was in your office?"
"No. I think about it a lot, now you mention it. Do you?"
My eyes widened. "Don't you dare."
Grayson dared.
I pressed my lips together to stifle a whimper as the shaft twisted and pumped inside me. No vibration, thank God because that would've really sent me over the edge. It wasn't a short burst of pleasure, either. He left it running at a – mercifully – low speed before he continued our conversation as though nothing was amiss.
"I'm just putting it out there," he said. "I don't want you to think you haven't got options. Sure, it's not History of Art, but at least you could start building a career. The company also offers subsidized education if you reinvest what you learn back into your role."
"Are you seriously pitching me a job right now?" I hissed. "Now?"
"Yes, now. Over dinner. A perfectly nice, romantic dinner, and nothing else."
Grayson's smile was positively wicked. Bastard. I twisted my hand in the napkin on my lap and tried to put the feeling of the dildo thrusting inside of me out of my mind. Easier said than done. Even without the motion, it was a thick machine which had filled my womanhood almost as entirely as Grayson's cock did. My heels dug into the carpet beneath the table and my toes curled inside the shoes. If he wasn't careful, he was going to find himself caught in something like that movie scene where a woman fakes an orgasm in a diner. Only, mine would be real, and much messier.
"Just think about it. Oh, and before I forget..."
Grayson hit the button and the pulsing subsided. After I'd taken a deep breath, he withdrew his hand and sank it into his pocket. I feared that he might have a second remote, but I needn't have worried. Instead, he drew out a flat, square box and set it on the table between us.
"I picked this up for you."
"What is it?"
"Open it and find out."
I eyed the box warily. "Is it something that'll get us banned from this restaurant?"
Grayson laughed. "Give me some credit, Kitten. Besides, if it was something like that, it wouldn't be small enough to get inside this box. You should know that."
Terrified that he was lying, I took the box gingerly and slid it closer. I shielded the contents with my hand as I snapped the catch and opened the lid. I breathed a sigh of relief. To be fair to Grayson, he was right that the box was too small and flat for a sex toy. Unless, of course, there was a market in micro-anal beads or something and I just wasn't aware of it. Thankfully, that wasn't what he'd gifted me. No, it was a silver bracelet with two charms hanging from it. One was new, a heart, but the other was an apple which seemed oddly familiar.
"I might've taken your charm out of your purse while you changed earlier," he said. "Thought it'd make for a better surprise."
"Well, I am surprised," I admitted. "Especially seeing as I said I didn't need gifts from you, Grayson."
Grayson ignored my comment and took the bracelet from its thin white pillow. Carefully, he fastened it around my wrist. Orange flares of candlelight glinted off the heart which, I noticed, had been engraved. One side bore an elegant C, and the other had a G.
"I knew it'd suit you," he said. "I'll keep adding to it whenever we have something to celebrate. Or if I want to spoil you. Maybe even just because."
I hated that a lump formed in my throat whenever Grayson talked about spoiling me. Not just because I didn't want him to waste money on me, but because it meant that he was thinking about the long-term nature of our relationship. It ignited a flame of hope in my chest that he might cast off his friendship with Dad for my sake. I didn't dare to believe it until it happened. Not least because he'd never said that he loved me. I mean, I hadn't said it either, but I also hadn't insinuated that our relationship was anything more than we'd first agreed upon.
A summer fling.
I pushed such gloomy thoughts out of my mind. We were meant to be on a romantic date, and it was better to live in the moment than worry about things that hadn't happened yet. If I kept my expectations low, I'd be ready for whatever came our way at the end of summer.
Of course, living in the moment meant that, throughout our main course, Grayson would switch on the vibrator and dildo intermittently. He waited until I'd relaxed into eating before startling me with a sudden burst of stimulation. I squirmed in my seat, my cheeks flushed and my breath hitching in my throat as he brought me to the brink and then switched off the device so I could slowly come back down.
My hands trembled as I tried to maintain the visage of a person in full control of themselves, the cutlery quivering and squeaking on the porcelain plate as my body vibrated in a constant, rolling purr under the influence of the toy. Grayson continued to engage me in conversation. His lips curled into a smile whenever I paused and closed my eyes. The man knew that I was losing grip on my senses, and he did nothing to hide how powerful it made him feel.
"Do you mind if we order dessert to go?" Grayson asked a waiter as he came to clear our plates. He flashed a wicked smile in my direction. "My date is looking a little flushed."
"Of course, Sir. I'll bring the dessert menu."
I leaned over the table when the man left to hiss, "And whose fault is it that I'm flushed?"
"Yours." Grayson shrugged. "If you'd just keep all those dirty thoughts out of your head..."
"Maybe if you weren't so trigger happy with that little remote."
"Oh, Kitten, you haven't seen trigger happy, yet."
The waiter returned and Grayson ordered a couple of desserts for later. Satisfied, our server asked, "Will there be anything else, Sir?"
"Just the cheque, thank you. I know better than to keep a lady waiting when she's ready to be driven home."
It took everything I had not to ask the waiter to serve us dessert in the restaurant. If Grayson thought that this wasn't him being trigger happy, then the ride back promised to be a far more extreme experience, and I didn't know if my body could take it.
Still, something in his smile told me that I'd enjoy finding out.