Total pages in book: 221
Estimated words: 213317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1067(@200wpm)___ 853(@250wpm)___ 711(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 213317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1067(@200wpm)___ 853(@250wpm)___ 711(@300wpm)
“Did you inherit it from your dad?” I grin. “You should thank him if you did.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Ant tells me. “I never got to see him.”
It’s a slammer of a statement. I don’t know how to react.
“It’s alright,” he says, shrugging it off. “I don’t care. Life is life. It hasn’t done me any harm.”
It seems not, since he’s so calm about it.
“I’m sorry,” I say, regardless. “That must be a horrible thing. Not knowing who your dad is.”
He laughs. “That depends if they’re a cunt or not, doesn’t it?”
His laugh is addictive, so I giggle along.
“I guess so. I wouldn’t know. I’m lucky mine’s not.”
I look around, feeling like a naughty kid at a party with him, talking like this in such a prestigious place, but nobody is listening to us.
My grin is aided by the champagne. “I imagine you’ll be less of a c-word than your dad if you have kids, then.”
“Just say it,” he whispers. “Say the c-word. Don’t be shy.”
I hold my hand up to my face, giggling like a fool, because he makes the c-word seem so cool, even when it’s got sweet FA to do with pussy.
“Ok. I imagine you’ll be less of a cunt than your dad if you have kids.”
“When I have kids, I hope.” He stares at me like he’s just sampled an amazing wine. “I love hearing you talk like that, Cass. I love hearing you say cunt.”
My stomach tingles, taken right back to the four-poster bed. I can see the way he wants me from across the table. The naughty girl in me wants to say fuck it to tomorrow’s event and stay up all night, telling Ant I’m a dirty slut while he fucks my ass, but that part of me is crushed in a flash when he checks his watch and asks for the bill.
“Better get you home for your event tomorrow,” he says. “Much more talk of cunt is going to get my dick hard.”
Again, he’s so confident with his language.
And again, his words send tingles dancing through me.
I thank the staff for an excellent meal, walking proudly on my super high heels as Ant takes my hand crossing the restaurant. People smile at us from other tables, and I wonder how I look on his arm. If we look good together. If I look good enough for him.
It's cold outside, and even though it’s only a short walk to the Audi, Ant slips his jacket off and puts it over my shoulders. I thank him like he’s a king bestowing a blessing, nicely heady on a few glasses of fizz.
I wonder whether he’ll suggest I go to his when we set off on the drive, although I don’t even know where he lives yet, but no. We are back in Newton Road before I know it, and he’s reversing into my driveway. I almost stutter wait as he gets out and opens the passenger door for me, but he wraps me up in his arms as soon as I get to my feet, clearly saying goodbye.
“Enjoy your day tomorrow, Cass. It was fantastic to spend an evening with you.”
He’s like two people in one. Mr Filth and Mr Gentleman, swinging between the two of them.
I’m already thinking I could fall in love with them both – but would they fall in love with me?
I’d have to please him better on the filth score than I managed to please Jack.
Ouch. My own insecurities can be a bitch sometimes.
Ant walks me right up to the door, waiting at my side while I take my key from my clutch.
It’s me who kisses him, landing my lips on his nice and gently, but he pulls away.
My heart drops, even though he’s still smiling.
“You’d better get yourself upstairs to bed. You’ve got to be a good girl for your bride to be.”
I want to be a good girl for him. My clit is throbbing, and I’m weak at the knees, and all I want to do is grab him tight and ask him inside.
I don’t.
Of course, I don’t.
“Night,” I say to him as he walks away. “Thanks for a lovely evening.”
“Night, gorgeous,” he replies, as he drops back into his car. “I hope we do it again soon. I’ll let you know when I’m back from Berlin next.”
I get a horrible flutter of nerves as he drives away, because the dreamer in me is already daring to dream. I can only pray she’s not disappointed.
She’s been hurt enough already.
I tell Janie how the date went and she’s so excited for me she squeals.
“When are you seeing him again, then?”
I hate the way I have to shrug and say I don’t know. Ant messaged me over the weekend, telling me how much he enjoyed our evening, and we’ve had snippets of conversation over messenger, but nothing that declares undying devotion.