The parking lot is empty except for a red Ford Fusion parked right in front next to the handicap spot which must be hers, and Blake’s delivery van. I glance inside the car as we pass, looking for a name or a clue that gives her identity away, but nothing is visible.
The car is spotless. I smirk. She’s a neat freak.
When we walk in front, I glance down at the bumper for a decorative tag, just in case, but it’s a bust. She doesn’t have one.
Entering the front door, I shout. "Bah Humbug, Motherfucker! How’s the pizza in this dump?”
Blake comes out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel, all smiles. "Zane! Good to see you!” He sticks out his hand, and I shake it. Then he leans over to speak to Batman. “Hey, buddy, no dogs allowed,” he laughs, “but you’re not a dog are you, Batman? You’re a cop, so we’re cool.” He stands and says, grinning from ear to ear. “So … you’ve got a date with destiny!”
I smirk and lean in, lowering my voice. “Is that her name … Destiny?”
He lifts his head, surprised, then he smirks hard. “My boy, you don’t know who she is?”
"No,” I lean closer, “but I think I’m supposed to."
The grin from ear to ear returns, and I grin just as big, eager to learn who she is.
But he just says, “Her name is not Destiny.” Then he spins around and swaggers off, leaving me standing there no closer to knowing who she is than when I walked in.
I look down at Batman, and swear under my breath. “Dammit, he’s not going to help me.”
Blake calls from the kitchen. "Come here, Pup. I have a Christmas hambone you can enjoy."
I unleash Batman and give him a hand gesture to ‘find.’ His nose leads him to the back to his treat. I roll the leash around my arm then hook it to a belt loop as I walk across the dining area to the booths in the back.
The beautiful mystery woman leans out so I can see her and gives me a very flirty finger wave. A sideways grin and a head nod respond along with my dick.
She is wearing a tight red t-shirt crop top that sits softly, hugging her boobs and giving me a very satisfying eyeful of her beautiful tits bulging over the scooped neckline. Her cleavage is long and deep, and the thought of sliding my oiled cock in and out of there makes it grow even harder.
When I arrive, I have a full erection so I start to sit across the table from her, but she pats the space beside her. I quickly adjust, putting my arm casually across the back of the seat and sliding close enough to feel her softness pressing against my hardness. If she wants to be close, I am going to give her every opportunity.
Mmm, she smells good like butter and coconuts.
I ask her, “Have you been waiting long?”
“Not too long.” She tilts her face and smiles.
She is so beautiful!
"Do you know what you’ll have?"
"I’ll have the same as you." She says softly.
Damn, her voice is so sensual.
She bats her eyes, “Meat-Lovers.”
My eyebrows raise. She remembered the way I like my pizza? Dammit. How could I have forgotten you?
My fingers play with her hair. “I’m flattered you remember that.”
She smiles. “I remember everything, Zane.”
“You’re so sweet.” I smile, then ask, “So, you’re a dancer at Been Jammin’?”
She grins, looks away, then looks back. “Yeah, when I found out how much I could make, I knew that’s where I wanted to work.”
“Been Jammin’ is the top spot. You must be good.”
“I can hold a man’s attention. But I was just lucky to get hired.”
I smile. “I bet you can, and I’m sure luck had nothing to do with it.”
She smiles at my compliment. “Yes, it did. When I submitted my application online, they were in the middle of tryouts. Thirty minutes later, Cat, the manager, pointed to a pole and said, ‘Make me want to throw my money at you.’” She looks down. “I was really nervous, but she hired me on the spot.”
I laugh. “I’ll make sure when I come to see you dance that I bring plenty of bills to throw then.”
She grins, “You do that, and I’ll focus all my attention on you.”
I shake my head, “On second thought, going to see you dance might not be a good idea. I don’t play well with others, and I sure as hell don’t share.”
Her left eyebrow twitches ever so subtly as a sweet smile spreads across her face, then she changes the subject off her, and on to me. “I was totally surprised when I recognized you tonight. I would never have guessed law enforcement would be your career choice. You were such a badass in school with a reputation as a player.”
I laugh as that tidbit of information rules out knowing her from college and narrows down the timeline to even earlier, and a much smaller pool of girls.
I push a piece of stray hair out of her face, wanting to see her beautiful eyes in the dim light. There is something about them that is captivating. "Sweetheart, cops are badasses."
She smirks and says, “Well, that’s true, but players aren’t usually cops.” She studies my face, and I can see her wheels grinding, analyzing me.
My badass player grin spreads across my face, telling her in a couple hours, I will be owning up to both those titles.
She smirks, “So … tell me about your military stint.”
I smirk back, busted, then I look out over the room, remembering my service and thinking about how to share it with her without sharing it with her.
Once you tell someone you served as a SEAL operator, they assume a lot about you. Some good; some not so good. I look back at her wondering which one she will be.
“There’s not a lot to talk about.” I tell her honestly, hoping she’ll let it go.
“Uneventful or …?” She questions my answer.
“Classified.”
“Ah! What branch did you serve in then? My dad was in the Army.”
“Navy.”
“Hmm.” She looks at my chest and my arms, then asks, “SEAL?”
I nod and she smirks. “That explains a lot.”
I raise my eyebrows and she laughs, explaining. “Supremely confident, don’t blend in even when you are trying to, physically perfect….” She laughs, shaking her head. “Did Batman serve with you?”
I smile, genuinely relieved she asked about him and not a thousand and one questions about me. “No. I intended on becoming a SWAT officer, but they didn’t have any openings, so I shifted to K9 handler.”
“Why?” She asks, studying my face intently again.
“I love dogs.”
She waves her hand, calling for more information.
“I need a mission.” I added.
She listens intently, patiently, until I continue. “There is structure, routine. We are a team. I don’t ever have to wonder if my partner has my six.”
She smiles and I know I scored a few more points.
“And the benefits are excellent."
"What kind of benefits?"
I take her chin and turn her face to mine. “The kind that gets a date with a beautiful woman on Christmas Eve."
"Oh, those benefits!" Her eyes sparkle.