Page 11 of Deck His Balls

“Your chariot awaits, my lady.”

I roll my eyes but can’t hide my smile. “Such a gentleman. What would the tabloids say if they could see the ruthless CEO now?”

Joel’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “That I’ve been utterly charmed by a certain WNBA star, of course.”

My heart skips at his words. As I slide into the buttery leather seat, I wonder if he can hear it pounding.

The drive to the restaurant passes in a blur of easy banter and stolen glances. When we arrive, the maître d’ greets us warmly.

“Mr. Mitchell, Miss Washington, welcome. Your table is ready.”

He leads us to a secluded booth tucked away in a corner. Soft lighting from a classy icicle white Christmas tree casts a warm glow, and the low hum of conversation creates an intimate atmosphere.

As I settle into the plush seat, taking in the crystal glasses and flickering candles, excitement bubbles up inside me. This is really happening. I’m on a date with Joel Mitchell.

I meet Joel’s intense gaze across the table and my breath catches. The night suddenly feels full of possibility.

The waiter approaches, his crisp white shirt and bow tie a stark contrast to the restaurant’s warm ambiance. “Good evening. May I take your order?”

I glance at Joel, suddenly realizing I haven’t even looked at the menu. He smiles reassuringly. “Ladies first.”

“Um, I’ll have the salmon, please,” I say, picking the first thing I spot that sounds good.

Joel orders a steak, and as the waiter retreats, I find myself relaxing into the booth. “So, Mr. CEO,” I start, leaning forward slightly, “any dating horror stories to share? I’m sure you’ve got some juicy ones.”

He chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh, you have no idea. There was this one time I took a girl to a fancy French restaurant. I was trying to impress her by ordering in French, but accidentally told the waiter I wanted to eat his shoe.”

I burst out laughing. “No way! What happened?”

“Let’s just say it was a very confusing and slightly mortifying evening,” Joel admits, grinning. “What about you? Any disasters in your dating past?”

I take a sip of water, considering. “Well, there was this guy who showed up to our date in full cosplay. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if we weren’t going to a black-tie charity event.”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s… quite a statement. Did you at least get to choose which character you were?”

“Sadly, no. I was stuck being the ‘normal’ one next to Batman all night,” I say, shaking my head at the memory.

As our food arrives, the conversation flows easily, peppered with laughter and shared glances. I find myself opening up more than I expected, drawn in by Joel’s attentiveness and genuine interest.

“You know,” I say, pushing my empty plate aside, “I’ve never actually shared that story before. It’s… nice to be able to laugh about it now.”

Joel’s eyes soften. “I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to share it with me. I like seeing this side of you, Tricia.”

His words send a warm flutter through my chest. Emboldened by the intimacy of the moment, I lean in closer. “Speaking of sharing… have you ever had any, you know, weird fantasies? Things you’ve always wanted to try but never have?”

Joel’s eyebrows raise slightly, a mix of surprise and intrigue crossing his face. “That’s quite a shift in conversation,” he says, his voice lowering. “But I’m game if you are. Ladies first?”

A blush creeps up my neck, but push through. “Well, I’ve always kind of fantasized about… being fingered in public. But without getting caught, you know?”

Joel’s eyes darken instantly, and before I can blink, he’s sliding around the booth to sit next to me. His hand finds my thigh under the table, and I inhale sharply at the contact.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs, his fingers tracing small circles on my skin.

I nod, my heart racing. “Yes,” I breathe, trying to keep my composure as his touch sends shivers up my spine.

With a devilish grin, Joel’s hand moves higher, and I gasp as his fingers slip under the hem of my dress. His touch is feather-light, igniting a fire within me that I can’t tame. He slides his hand further, slipping my panties to the side, and my eyes widen in anticipation.

“Joel, what are you doing?” I manage to ask, my voice shaking as his fingers brush against my already damp center.

---