We are going out to eat at Angelo’s, then to Hooligan’s. Are you sure that dress?
Girl, your body owned that dress.
It oozes sexy and screams available.
I don’t know. I want sexy, not whore.
When you are going after a man,
go whore! Trust me!
Every man wants to take a girl home that promises what that dress promises.
Jocko won’t take his eyes off you.
Not just because he’s horny for you, but because every other man in there will be drooling over you.
And he won’t like that.
I laugh, remembering poor Joseph Pruitt in high school.
Very strategic.
Exactly!
Thank you!
That’s what besties do.
I take the dress off the rack.
Leave your hair casual.
Down and uncurled.
Not up?
No. When your hair’s up,
you look very sophisticated.
Definitely down.
Sophisticated? Hmm, I’ll wear it up for Angelo’s, then down for Hooligan’s.
Okay.
I just bought a pair of gold platforms.
Want to borrow them?
Ha! That’s pushing the sexy look a little too far toward whore.
No, thank you. I’ll wear stilettos.
The red ones?
No. The black ones with the ankle strap and zipper.
Those work.
Red lipstick. Red strapless bra.
No stockings. No panties
No panties?
BARE NAKED BOOTY BABY!
Once Jocko knows that little secret,
he’ll be hard all night,
and the SEX later will be smokin’!
So, this afternoon?
Did he take your crown?
He had all my cherry pie.
Ah! Finally!
I’ll call you tomorrow.
You can tell me everything.
Love you, boo. Thank you.
Yep. Love you too. Have fun!
Hey! One last thing.
do not get wasted!
I want to know everything that happens.
Haha. No guarantees.
I go into the bathroom and turn the water on in the tub. I need to soak my pounded pussy in a nice hot bath. Jocko is big, and I know I’m going to be sore.
After pouring in some coconut-scented Epsom salt, I ease in. “Ah, that’ll make it all better down there.”
An hour later, I am dressed in the sexiest dress I have ever worn with my hair piled on top of my head, looking at myself in the mirror and realizing I will turn heads tonight. But knowing, the only one that matters is Jocko’s.
I take one last look around and straighten the flowers he gave me in the vase. I set them by the front door, so they will be the first thing I see when I walk in and the last thing I see when I leave.
A sweet reminder of Jocko’s commitment and a warning, not to fuck it up again.
Chapter Eighteen
Jocko
She's wearing a little short black dress that shows off her long legs and every perfect curve of her body, and I turn in the seat to stare at her. “You look stunning, Juicy.”
“Thanks.” She grins as she puts her car in drive and pulls out onto the highway. “Are you sure Lucifer will be alright until we come ….” She stops, catching herself before she says, ‘home.’
Grinning like I've won the grand prize at the fair, I assure her. “He's a dog. He’ll be fine. He’ll sleep.”
As she weaves through the traffic, I stare at her. Each time she cuts her eyes and sees I’m still looking at her, she smiles.
“Yes, I can’t take my eyes off you.”
“Good.” She says as she turns into Angelo’s Steakhouse. As soon as she's parked, I ask her. “May I open the door for you?”
“Certainly.”
I jump out, trot around, and make a big deal about opening her door, offering my hand, and pulling her to her feet. “I would kiss you right now, but ….”
“But, we need to eat before we go out drinking.”
“Yes, that too.”
She hooks my arm, and I escort her inside.
When I pull open the door, Jorja glides through, and the hostess looks up. Her eyes skip right over Jorja and light up when they meet mine. I've seen the look too many times before not to recognize a single woman looking to score.
When we walk up to her, she asks me for my name, but before I can give it, Jorja asserts herself and tells her, “Jorja Jones.”
The hostess takes two menus and leads us to our table. I pull the chair out for Jorja, and she beams up at me as she sits. “I like this gentlemanly side to you.”
“I fucking love the lady look, Babe.”
She chuckles, “Spontaneous shopping spree success.”
The waitress appears. “Welcome to Angelo’s. Do you need a drink menu?” She looks from me to Jorja.
“Water, please,” Jorja says.
“Budweiser.”
“Coming right up.”
Looking over the menu, I prepare Jorja. “Just so you aren’t shocked, I eat my steak very rare.”
“No worries. I like mine rare too.” She continues to read the pages.
“Mine will bleed.”
She looks up and shrugs, “Okay.” Then goes back to reading the menu. I’m still staring at her when she closes it. “What?”
“I’m just amazed.”
“At the fact that I won’t freak out at the sight of blood oozing from the steak when you stab it?”
I laugh. “Well … yeah.”
She laughs with me. “I'll have the Dallas filet, small cut, with a Caesar salad, no croutons.”
I smirk. “This is my treat. You can have anything on the menu.”
She smirks back. “It’s not your treat. It’s mine. I invited you, and I’m not concerned with the price. That’s what I want to eat.” She places her hands on the table and leans over it to tell me, “You can have anything on the menu you want, and that includes dessert.”
“And just like that, I’m not in charge.” I laugh, looking back at the choices.
She laughs.
When the waitress returns with our drinks, I give her our order, and she takes the menus.
Jorja smiles at me and says. “Just in case I forget later on, or we get too drunk to remember, I had a really good time tonight.”
“You're too sweet, and I did too.” I slide my hand across the table, and she sets hers in it. I stroke it with my thumb, enjoying the touch of her skin.