Chapter Twenty One

"Yeah, let's go out tonight." I grab his arm and quickly take him to my car. Jamal is sitting in my living room on the phone with another agent fixing up the situation with the guy I shot. It was his fault for pulling the gun out on us and shooting. I hand Blade the folder with all the information on his brother. He pulls me into a kiss, that takes my breath away. Barely remembering the words I was going to say, I begin to rally it all up in my brain before I speak.

"This is all Ava could find out, we know his name now. But we just don't know who he is or where he is at." I say pulling away from him.

"What are we doing tonight?" I ask, after how long the last two days have been. I would love to do something to lose up. The past few weeks have been crazy there is no way it could get any worse.

"Dinner and a movie. I made reservations." He is full of excitement as he says this and pulls out of the driveway. The way his eyes light up and he smiles warms my heart.

"Oh, sounds lovely." I clap my hands together in excitement. He drives us out of town and to a small restaurant. A French restaurant called Ma Belle. Which I think means my beautiful, but I could be wrong.

He walks us in and the place is gorgeous and I feel completely underdressed. Everything is gold and silver and flashy. It looks like an old movie scene brought to life. It is breathtaking.

"This place is astounding," I say falling in love with the vintage interior. All the lights and golden arches. There are even a few chandeliers that look like golden teardrops falling from the shimmery ceiling. I look in awe at how shiny everything is.

"Just wait until you try the food. This is my sister's favorite place to eat." He explains as a man guides us to an elegant table. The tablecloth is silk and an angel white color. I am worried I might spill something on it. Blade pulls out my chair for me to sit down and then sits down. They poured us a glass of their family-owned wine to taste. Only a swallow to just try it to see if we want to buy the most expensive bottle on the menu. Reaching for the glass and taking a sip, it tastes smooth but kind of has a tart sting to it. I drink wine, but only really in the comfort of my home. I do drink a bit going out with my friends but on dates, it's a rule.

"We will take a bottle of red wine," Blade says, picking up the menu the server just laid down. 

"Hi, my name is Bryan, today I will be your server. Would you guys like a basket of bread and a glass of water each?" He asks as I open the menu. The menu is red and everything has ebony and gold lettering. The Gnocchi alfredo sounds amazing and the garlic and basil linguine also seems perfect. I browse the rest of the menu, but nothing speaks to me, because it contains things I don't like. Noticing a lot of the names of the food are Italian my mind starts the question the name of this place.

"I have never asked you about your favorite food?" He says as he looks at me over drinking out of the champagne glass.

"I love Italian so this place is perfect because the French make good pasta, but I also enjoy Indian foods," I explained to him wishing I had a glass of water instead of wine. The waiter comes back, so I ask him for a glass of water.

"Can I get a glass of water?" I ask and he just nods.

I don't like drinking on dates. I like to be sober the whole time.  Sometimes I fear people take advantage of drunk women and men. I have seen it happen many times in my dreams and I have never been able to stop it.

"A glass of water, I will make sure to get that to you." He says writing it down on his iPad. He comes back over with a basket of bread and olive oil to dip it in. Taking a slice of it and dipping it in the garlic olive oil, my mouth waters at the sight of it.

"You don't want any wine?" He asks, probably wondering if there is something wrong with me.

"Yeah, I don't drink much though. So you might want to just pay for a glass or two."  My nose starts to feel all stuffed up so I grab a tissue out of my purse. A check for the eleven grand falls on the floor and I bend down to pick it up.

Then I blow my nose softly into the tissue, balling it up in my hand I excuse myself to go to the bathroom to wash my hands.

Chucking the tissue into the trash can that is in the women's restroom. I wash my hands quickly with their lavender-scented soap. Not bothering to look at me in the mirror because of wanting to get back to dinner with Blade. Drying my hands on one of the reusable towels that they have a bin for I throw it in.

Walking out of the bathroom I almost get hit by a waiter but I glide to the right.

"I want the Gnocchi, see this one right here," I say using my pointer finger to point to it.

He orders for us and the wait is fifteen minutes.

"So what did you do today?" He asks if I did work today so I could tell him all about that. But I can't tell him about how I was almost arrested.

"I just worked and helped my friend out on his project. He is staying with me a few more days I think since he came from Washington." I explain giving away too much information about him. That is why all the meetings are online because they are in DC.

"Yeah, he was a college boyfriend of my friends.

I decided to write my name on the bill, offering to pay my half since we are not boyfriend and girlfriend. I don't want to waste his money on me.

We sneak into the back of the movie theater, and the bathroom.

'Kiss me, Blade,' I whisper into his left ear. He slips his lips against mine once before opening my mouth with his tongue. I moan and pull his body down tightly against me, clothing blocking us as he presses me up against the door. I will feel you. All of you. He sucks on my lower lip. He runs his fingers through my hair. Then his hand is on my breast, thumb on my nipple through my shirt.

"God, Blade." I arch against him when he moves to my other breast. Two fingers working outside of my clothes, a little uncomfortable but nothing I couldn't handle. Not so long as he kept his mouth on me, lavishing my breasts with attention. His thumb rubs around a sweet spot and my eyes rolled back into my head.

 "You are mine," he grunts out, sliding his fingers into me, the length and level of his arousal feel brutal against the side of my leg.

"Mine," he swears, as he releases my nipple and turns me around, pushing me forward as he yanks my legs back, one hand hard on my back, the other gripping my butt firmly. He yanks my underwear down quickly and slides himself into my already-aroused vagina. 

He doesn't slow the movement, giving me full, hard thrusts, my breasts bouncing from the top of my dress, as he moves me to the counter. I don't love him. I didn't even know the meaning of the word, but his touch felt like fire and I love the feeling of destruction that follows the flame.