Page 77 of You Were Never Not Mine

“I have my own problems I deal with.” That’s all he says, Mr. Mysterious. And while I’d love to pry more, I remain quiet, staring at my mostly empty dinner plate, my head swimming thanks to the spritzes. And August’s cologne. The press of his hard thigh against mine and how his hand just settled on my leg, warm and heavy. Like a brand on my skin, sizzling into my flesh and marking his territory.

“I feel like I just trauma dumped on you,” I admit, hiding the hiccup that rises up. No more spritzes for me.

“I don’t mind.” He sounds like he means it and when he squeezes my thigh, I sort of want to melt into the booth seat. “I have a confession.”

I’m frowning, my entire body growing tense. I really hope he doesn’t drop a bomb on me. “What is it?”

“I thought this date would be boring. That the most exciting thing that could happen was me staring at your pretty face all night.” He gives me another thigh squeeze, his fingers sliding up higher, and I swear he’s so close to my pussy I’m tempted to spread my legs and allow him access. “But it hasn’t been boring. At all.”

“I’m glad I can entertain you.” My voice has an edge of sarcasm, like I can’t help myself.

“I am too.” He lifts his gaze to mine. “Want to get the hell out of here so I can fuck you in the back seat of the town car?”

I blink at him, my mouth falling open. “August…”

“Yeah, yeah. I know what you said about first date etiquette or whatever the fuck.” He removes his hand from my leg and I immediately miss his touch. “We could make out instead. I could feel you up. Finger you. You could give me a hand job. Or is that moving too fast for a first date?”

My mouth is dry at the images his words conjure up. “Did you pay the check yet?”

“Already taken care of.” The smug look on his face is practically criminal. He’s so pleased with himself. “Ready to go?”

All I can do is nod my response.

We sit in the back of the car for at least the first fifteen minutes of our drive in complete silence. He’s focused on his phone, texting someone, I don’t know who and I’m too afraid to ask. I read over my notifications, but I’ve got nothing. A few social media things. A text from Elise reminding me that she’s going home for the weekend. Meaning I’ll be in my dorm for the next three days, all alone.

Glancing up, I check on August to find he’s not staring at his phone anymore. No, he’s staring at me with a lazy expression on his face. His eyes are hooded and he’s sprawled across his side of the back seat, taking up every inch of available space. Devastatingly handsome as per usual and I’m fairly certain he undid a couple of the buttons of his shirt, offering me a better view of his glorious chest.

“You should probably stop looking at me like that,” he warns, his voice low. “Unless you want me to attack you.”

Any other man would use the term “attack you” and I’d freak out. With August? I’m ready for it. Dying for it even.

“I don’t know.” I sink my teeth into my lower lip, wondering where I come up with these moves. Pretty sure he brings it out of me. “You don’t want to ruin the dress, do you?”

“I don’t give a fuck.” He starts moving toward me across the seat.

“August.” My voice sharpens. “The dress was over six thousand dollars!”

“So?” He reaches for me, his hands landing on my hips, tugging me closer to him. “Worth every fucking dollar to see you wearing it tonight.”

“It wasn’t too much?”

“The cost? No. I already told you.” His fingers curl into the dress fabric.

“No. I mean…how it looked on me?” I’m whispering, worried over his answer. It felt like too much. Like I was putting on some sort of show for an audience of one—August. “Did I pass the test?”

He frowns, his grip easing on my waist. “Did you believe I was putting you through some sort of test?”

“I wasn’t sure.” I shrug, wishing I never said anything in the first place. “You can be a little intimidating, August.”

His gaze roves over my face as if he’s trying to memorize every little feature and my entire body grows warm. “It never seemed to bother you before. You’ve had zero problems standing up to me.”

“Things have changed between us. After everything you admitted and I made you ask me on a date.” I’m gnawing on my lower lip again, feeling like a fool. “Do you regret it? You spent a lot of money on me tonight. Do you want the bag back?”

I thrust the bag at him, and he literally tosses it over his shoulder like it’s trash. “Keep the bag. Keep the dress and the shoes but these?” He runs his hand under my dress, fingers skimming over the nylon tights I’m wearing. “I’m afraid I’m going to destroy these.”

His words are a warning and I hold my breath as his hand slides up. Over my hip, shifting to my front, his fingers curling into the waistband of my tights. He tugs with all his might, ripping the thin fabric to shreds with a few jerks and I gasp, my core clenching when he exposes me completely.

“Fucking nuisance,” he mutters as he tears the stockings off my body, removing them completely. He shoves my dress up until it’s bunched at my waist. All of those beautiful sequins bent and misshapen, but I can’t worry about that now. I’m breathing hard, my chest aching, my heart hammering, my skintingling. The spot between my legs throbs incessantly and when he spreads my legs, he stares at my pussy, licking his lips like he’s already imagining how I taste. “Still bare for me?”

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