Page 2 of Rawest Venom

Meet you at 7?

Me

Sure! Can’t wait to see you again!

There’s enough time to doll up for this one, and I’m anticipating needing it tonight. After a shower, I blow dry my long, auburn hair, frowning at the faded dye. It’s only been three weeks since the last coloring. Briefly, I let my mind consider what my natural hair would look like now and what it must be like to wear it. To have something real. But those thoughts never lead to any good.

Nothing true survives.

Will likes sluts.He has a preference for small Asian women and anal, but he’ll just have to get a medium-sized redhead with C cups. The butt sex? That I may have to do.

Donning a cropped cable-knit sweater and tight miniskirt, I slide on some suede boots. Last minute, I throw an argyle scarf around my neck. Snagging my bag, my hand rifles through the contents, checking for the appropriate date essentials. Lipstick, phone, wallet, powder, mace, and, yep, a loaded pistol in the back pocket. We are good to go.

The first thing I notice is the wires of his glasses shimmering off the light streaming out to the street from the restaurant window. Will’s hair is always a long, brown mess, but I’ll give him points for his tall stature. If there’s anal involved, at least his penis is skinny.

“Hey, wow! You look fucking sexy!” A cold hand reaches out to snatch mine, his fingers clammy with sweat. As he leans in, I turn my cheek for him to kiss. His taste isn’t something I want in my mouth before eating. I’d lose my appetite.

“Not so bad yourself, Will. Look at you. I like this.” My fingers walk up the buttons of his checked shirt, then tug on each wing of his collar. Gently, my breasts graze his body as he wraps his arms around me.

Sliding his hand to the exposed skin of my lower back, he guides us inside. Knowing Will, hethoughtI would enjoy the eclectic nature of this farm-to-table restaurant. He was probably trying to be hip. All I can wonder is if they have burgers, but I’ll pretend for him.

“Great choice of restaurant, by the way,” I say, slipping my hand into his as we approach the host stand.

“Oh, it’s seat yourself and we encourage splitting up your partnership to mingle with other guests…” the host says, staring at us over his thick black-framed glasses.

“Sure, um, can we have menus?” Will asks.

“Scan the QR code with your phone.” With a wave of his thin arm, the host motions to the open restaurant. There aren’t many people inside.

Pretending this is completely normal, I grip Will’s scant bicep and give him a reassuring smile.

“The window?” he asks.

“I’d prefer the back, if you don’t mind.” Squeezing his hand, my voice nuzzles his ear lobe. At my suggestion, his steps hurry toward the rear of the establishment.

Tables are set up family style, with long wooden tops and benches lining either side. He lets me slide on one while he scoots in next to me. Scanning the menu with our phones, I try to calculate what I should eat to go with anal. A salad? Steak, likely. Not spicy.

“You’re vegan, right?” Will’s light brown eyes catch me off guard for once. Is he? Is he vegan? How could I not know this?

Brushing my fingernails across his back, I lean my shoulder into his. “Ha! How’d you guess?”

“I figured you were, working for Cal and all. Thought you’d like this place.” A wide, lazy grin forms on his lips as his eyelids take longer to blink.

“Well, you figured right, mister. Do they have a blackbean burger?” Oh, wait, beans are a bad choice. “Or a salad, some rice.” What do vegans eat?

Will’s heavy brow furrows, casting a shadow over his round glasses. “They have an eggplant parmesan here I was told was good for vegans.”

Isn’t that sweet? “Thanks for thinking of me. I’ll try that.”

“I’ll get it, too. Maybe I’ll become a vegan.” His bony shoulder taps mine. Dammit. All that vegan talk and he’s not one already. Oh well, too late to back down now.

After ordering and receiving our genuine farm raised chickpea hummus and veggie appetizer, I politely hold a piece of celery as I ask, “How’d you know I was working with Cal?” Lifting the cool vegetable to my mouth, sans bean dip, I pretend to munch on it while gazing at my date and batting my lashes.

“I used to work with Cal, didn’t you know?”

“Really? No, I didn’t know that. What did you do?”

Settling back on the bench, he straightens up, one half of his lips kicking up into a smirk. “I was one of the lead programmers. Yeah, the only reason I left was to do freelance programming for myself.”

---