chapter 11- first date ii

Emi

“I’m sorry,” I say to her. “I’m not much of catch, a former pole dancer. I’m also sorry I ate all the spring rolls. Let me go buy you another one.” Catherine chuckles ruefully and shakes her head, holding me down gently.

“No, you’re not getting away from me that easily. It was years ago. You’re not out of my league. I’m just a normal woman like you,” she says, but I don’t believe her. “I don’t care if you were a pole dancer. When I was college I was a bartender. And, I’ll just eat one of your meatballs.” She steals one with a smile as if I didn’t give her any news that hadn’t surprised her.

“Catherine…did you hear what I said?” I ask timidly. “Pole dancer.”

“Of course, I did,” she says, biting gingerly down on the meatball. “Mm, this is quite delicious. I see why you enjoy them.” I begin munching on them too. “How can I judge you for that? I’m a very famous domme at the Darkest Dungeon. I guarantee you I’ve done things you can’t even imagine while you just danced in a bikini in front of some men.”

I didn’t think of it like that. She probably had been much more risqué in her life, but she didn’t know that I also was a nobody. Literally. A runaway orphan that nobody wanted.

“Honestly, it sounds like you were just trying to survive. You don’t have to share anything you don’t feel comfortable with, but I’m curious about you. Would you prefer if I start?” I nod quickly.

“Please.”

“You already know I’m a criminal lawyer.”

“Who likes BDSM. Why BDSM?” I ask her.

“Oh, I’ve always had this thing about control. It’s made my relationships easier to manage once I figured it out. Not that I’ve had much success in that arena.”

“Do you like it?” I ask. She looks confused.

“Yes, I love it. I’m quite passionate about it, but—“ she says cutting herself off with a sigh. “I’m getting older and I don’t want to be a wrinkly old domme.”

“Wrinkly?” I ask and laugh. “You’re perfect.” Her playful brown eyes bounce to mine as she shrugs and a trace of sadness reflects in them. She hands me her last bowl of street food. I eagerly blast through that. She places her hand on her chin.

“It’s been so long since someone has said those exact words,” she says. “I must have forgotten.” I giggle. “I think, you’re right. I do want something else. What should we get now? I’m feeling quite…adventurous.” We eat sweet plantains, next. Then, the Peruvian house special of fried rice with beef, chicken, and shrimp.

We manage to snag treats from three more places. Things like smoked brisket biscuits and smokehouse mac’n cheese, a bacon wrapped and fried hotdog enter my gullet followed by some massive specialty donuts—like a bacon one with maple syrup and finally a brownie battered one with fudge icing rounds out the night and my stomach..

“Are you sure you will be fine walking back to your car?” I ask her at my door, feeling stuffed to the frills and like I’m doing a terrible job of being on a date. My cheeks are so flushed despite the chill. She even loaned me her trench for the walk back when I started to shiver. I hand the coat back and she smiles warmly at me.

“I had an extraordinary time. I’ll call you,” She says and my eyebrows shoot up. “Very soon, because I want to see more of that adorable face of yours.”

“Of course,” I say without thinking and she grins. She pulls me close. Her ruby lips are so close to mine. Her eyes are so hungry for something that isn’t food. I lick my lips.

“May I?” She asks. I nod. “Say it, please.”

“Yes, pleeease,” I squeak and her lips gently fall over mine. That gentleness barely lasts, burning into a low, passionate fire that warms my overfull body up even more. I press against her, feeling embarrassed when my belly bumps into hers.

“Oof,” I whisper, blushing harder. She kisses my cheek, my jaw, and returns to my lips again without hesitation.

“You’re so beautiful,” she says, embracing me harder. We finally part, slightly panting. Her eyes glazed with heat and desire. “I better go.” I want to beg her not too, but I’m scared to ask her to stay, plus Scarlett is there. If she’d ask me I’d go to her place in a second.

She backs away, straightening my jean jacket.

“I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Okay. Can’t wait!” I say, a little too nervously as she chuckles and retreats. “Catherine.”

“Yes?” She asks, turning around.

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For being you,” I say and she smiles even more broadly before vanishing around the corner. Sighing, I groan as I realized what I had said.

Thanks. For being you? What was that? I’m a complete moron.