“Ely,” Rhone whispered, gently pressing his lips against the side of my neck. I melted at the slightest of touches from him. He possessed the key to unraveling me. Awakening things I never knew I had tucked away inside. Wants. Needs. Desire. The khaki pant suit I bought nearly drained what little bit of savings I had, but the look on his face made it more than worth the expense. The black boots I wore were a thrift store find and added three inches to my height. With these on, my head rested perfectly at the top of Rhone’s chest when we hugged.
“Oops,” I said when we pulled apart, noticing the sparkly sheen on his dress jacket where my blush had rubbed off.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said as I tried to brush it off. “It’s a badge of honor from my beautiful boyfriend.”
“Get a room you two,” Leo teased as he emerged from the bedroom. “Seriously Ely, you look stunning.”
“Hey, get your own man,” Rhone teased, wrapping a protective arm around my waist.
If my smile got any wider, my face would crack. “Thanks Leo. Ready Rhone?”
“Absolutely.”
“You two kids have fun,” Leo said. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That would leave nothing,” I hollered as I pulled the door closed.
Rhone was the perfect gentleman, opening the door to the waiting car, allowing me to enter first. He cleaned up nicely. I wore my hair down whereas he had his up in a loose man bun and I loved it. The loose tendrils had me wanting to twirl between my fingers. The navy-blue suit he wore, was perfectly tailored to accentuate all the best parts that made up this handsome man. His crisp, white dress shirt, the top three buttons undone gave me a sneak peak of the golden blond hair adorning his chest. The same hair that lightly brushed my chest the last time we were together. I shivered at the reminder. My fingers itched to reach out and stroke it. The scruff on his face, normally just as wild as his infamous mane was, perfectly trimmed and tamed. Rhone Horne was the whole package. Smart, successful and drop dead gorgeous.
“Spit it out Ely, your staring is beginning to scare me,” he said, snapping me from the trance I was in.
“You look so handsome,” I admitted.
“Thank you, but why are you staring at my chest while tucking your hands under your legs?” he questioned.
“To keep from touching you.”
“Ely, I’m yours,” Rhone said, sliding my hands out from under me, placing them against his chest. “You have the right to touch me anytime you wish.”
Shamelessly, I leaned in, inhaling his scent. Committing it to memory. A mix of musk and spice filled my senses. Allowing myself to get lost in the moment, my lips lightly trailed along the areas my fingers had just caressed. With the first touch, my dick hardened to unfathomable, painful levels.
“Rhone,” I moaned. When I glanced up, his lips came crashing down on mine. Filled with as much heat as I had burning inside. In no time we were rutting against each other, Rhone slid me beneath him. I didn’t want to stop. I was ready for him to take me right then in the back seat of the car, with the driver on the other side of the partition. For all I knew he could see and hear everything we were doing. I was seconds away from coming, my brain telling me to pull back while my cock continually begged for release.
“Sir,” the driver’s disembodied voice called over the speaker. “We’re here.”
“Thank you,” Rhone managed to reply. Stealing one last kiss, he sat up, doing his best to straighten up while I took a second to fix my lipstick. I loved the little case with a built-in mirror. Fit perfectly in my pocket. “Fuck, that’s hot,” Rhone said, watching me. “Is it bad I’ve pictured those perfect, lipstick-coated lips wrapped around my dick?”
Choking, I held my finger up to stop him when he reached over to pat my back. “I’m…good,” I said between coughs. There was no way I was replying to that. The image his words conjured were currently at the forefront of my mind, which was doing nothing to deflate my overeager cock.
“You ready?” Rhone asked. He emerged from the car first, extending his hand to help me out. No shame whatsoever in being seen in public with me. “Hold your head up proudly Ely, you look stunning,” he said, kissing the side of my head. The valet held the door open for us as we entered the Bellagio, hand in hand.
“Reservation for Horne,” Rhone told the hostess, his hand on the small my back. A sense of pride filled me with every public display of affection. So many things I was learning about myself and it seemed the attention I thought I never wanted, was actually a driving force for me. Getting it from Rhone made it all that much sweeter.
“Right this way, sir.” She led us to the outside patio area, facing the street where the fountains were. “The fountain show is every fifteen minutes starting at eight,” she said as we were seated. I glanced at my phone, 7:55. I’d seen the fountain show before, from the other side of course, but we had an unobstructed view for the performances while we dined. The weather was ideal for eating al fresco and wearing a light jacket was the right choice. The table was in a great spot, and I was with the most perfect date imaginable.
“Wow, this is fantastic,” Rhone said after the hostess left.
“Right? I can’t get over this view,” I replied as the sommelier arrived.
“Good evening gentlemen, can I interest you in any of our wines tonight?” He asked, handing Rhone the wine list. Rhone glanced over at me, and I shook my head in response.
“No thank you, not tonight,” Rhone answered for us.
“Very well, enjoy your evening,” he replied before moving on to the next table.
Right as he walked away, the fountains show began. Santa Baby, with Madonna belting out the infamous holiday tune played through the numerous speakers. A better song couldn’t have been chosen to start our evening off with. Santa was fulfilling my wishes; ones I didn’t know I had before meeting Rhone. Sending me this wonderful man I was sharing a meal with. When the song finished playing, the waiter magically appeared. They must time these things with the water show.
“Good evening gentlemen, my name is Pierre and I’ll be your waiter tonight. Have you had a chance to peruse the menu or would you like more time?” he asked, his eyes darting between the two of us.
“I’m ready if you are Ely,” Rhone said, glancing at me. The moment he mentioned where we were having dinner, my fingers Google sprinted to their website, memorizing the menu before making my final choice last night. The chef in me came prepared to order and hopefully be dazzled.
“I’m ready.”
“What can I get for you, sir?” Pierre asked.
“The roasted Atlantic salmon with steamed asparagus, please.”
“Good choice.” He turned to Rhone. “And for you sir?”
“I’ll have the Japanese filet, rare with a baked potato,” Rhone said. We both ordered iced tea to drink.
“Oh, before I forget,” Rhone said, after the waiter walked away. “My mom and I would like to know if you’d join us for Thanksgiving dinner at my uncle’s house this year?”
Wait. Did he? No, he didn’t. I think he did. Why is he staring at me? Was I supposed to…Oh, yeah, he asked me a question. “Oh, um…” Not what I was going for, but the anxiety his words triggered gave me a major brain freeze.