5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Jobe

“Jobe, try to remember this is a real human and you’re going on a real date and not one where you end the night tied up and whipped into submission,” my soon-to-be ex-best friend Beck pleaded with me for the millionth time.

“Therein lies my problem, how to be a fully functioning adult on a non-sex-related happy-ending date.”

Sex I could do. Actual human feelings, not so much.

“There’s no way in hell I won’t fuck this up.” I had a gift for fucking up without even trying.

“My fingers, toes, and nuts are crossed for you. I think this guy is the real thing. You need someone who won’t take your shit or try to beat it out of you.” Beck helped me pick out something nonrevealing to wear out tonight, though I did manage to slide into a sexy undergarment of my own design. “I wish I had half your wardrobe.”

“You know you’re welcome to borrow anything you like. Hell, you have a key so let yourself in.”

“What if I spill something on it? The shit you have is expensive.” His eyes filled as he glanced through my massive walk-in closet. I’d taken space from the sewing room to expand it when I had the condo remodeled before I moved in.

“Yes, and most came from the companies I modeled for.” One of the perks of modeling, though the lack of anonymity overshadowed those at times.

“Stop fidgeting, you look amazing.”

Too bad I didn’t feel as put together as I looked, but the bigger question was why was I so fucking nervous?

Beck perched himself in the window seat of my corner unit, keeping an eye out for Stanley. “Do I call him Stanley or Daddy Stanley? He’s not my Daddy so that seems inappropriate.”

“Well, you better figure it out fast or better yet, ask him when you get into the car because he’s here.” Beck gave me a quick hug, careful to not mess my makeup and shoved me out the door. “I want all the deets tonight. Love you!”

“Love you, too.”

I almost sprinted down the stairs then realized it wasn’t wise given the heeled ankle boots I’d chosen and shifted to a subtle step. Keep your cool, Jobe.

“Good evening, Jobe,” Stanley greeted me and opened the car door. “You look fantastic.”

And cue in flirting Jobe… “And you are devilishly handsome, Daddy Stanley.”

Guess I only had one switch—on or off.

“Thank you,” he said as he shut the door then got in the driver’s side.

“Nice car.” This had to set him back a pretty penny. Daddy Stanley had money because this wasn’t the same car he brought me home in.

“Thank you. I probably should’ve asked if you were vegetarian before making reservations at a steak house.”

“I partake in the occasional carnivorous meal.” He smiled and it was like I just couldn’t help myself as I gripped his thigh and slid my hand up. “But I’m a sure thing, Daddy. No meal required.”

His facial expression changed to an all too familiar one. He peeled my hand off his leg and set it back on mine.

“Take it down several notches, Jobe. A happy ending tonight won’t come in the form of an orgasm.” And stern Daddy was back.

We pulled up to the valet and Stanley came around to get the door for me. His hand touched my back and I flinched.

“Sorry, Jobe. Are you still sore?”

So he had watched me that night.

“A little.” It had been a couple of weeks and for the most part I was healed. This was more of a mental flinch if anything.

“Good evening, Mr. Grainger,” the hostess greeted us. Obviously Stanley was a regular here.

“Good evening, Stacia. Is our table ready?”

“Yes, it is. Please follow me.” She led us back to a corner table away from the crowded main room and handed us our menus after we sat. “Your waiter this evening is Sylvan. Enjoy your dinner.”

I’d barely glanced at the menu when our waiter appeared.

“Good evening. I’m Sylvan and I’ll be your waiter tonight. May I start you gentlemen off with a drink from the bar?”

“Wine, Jobe?” Stanley asked.

“Yes, please. You pick.”

Stanley chose a wine then Sylvan left and returned moments later with it. Service was speedy here and I was no closer to selecting a meal than I was before he walked away.

“Are you gentlemen ready to order?”

“You look lost, Jobe. Would you like me to order for you?” Stanley asked and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“That would be divine. Thank you.”

?? Turn up the charm

?? Flirting, got that down.

?? Let him order for me. Based upon his smile, that was the right choice.

I’ve got this.

The waiter filled our glasses and Stanley held his up in toast. “To new beginnings.”

I tapped mine to his and repeated his words. “To new beginnings.” The delicious red he’d chosen was slightly sweet and dangerously smooth.

“So, I have to know. Why do you do it?” Stanley asked.

“Do what, exactly?” There were far too many things I’d done. Many I regretted while others I stupidly repeated.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m no kink shamer but I heard you safeword. Why did you let it get that far before you tapped out?”

Oh, that…

“Didn’t you hear? I’m a pain slut. Everyone at the club knows that.” While I didn’t like the words, I chose to wear them like a badge of honor to show them I was…was what? A pain slut? A slut? A fucking dumbass?

All of the above.

“I don’t buy that for a second, Jobe, and I reported it. Trust me when I say I wasn’t the only one who did.”

I sighed and slunk back in the chair. “It’s all I’m good for.” How I wished I could take those words back. “A better question is, why are you always there to save me, Daddy Stanley? Better watch it or someone might think you’re stalking me.”

“Stalking is a strong word,” he replied, though he didn’t refute it.

“So,” I leaned on bended elbow and batted my lashes. “Why are you always there to catch me?”

“Somebody has to. You’re reckless, Jobe.”

Back to serious Stanley.

“Your preference is sweet littles which I clearly am not, nor am I a boy. So why did you ask me out?” Was this a guilt date? A way to assuage his Daddy side? I was no science experiment.

“Honestly, I don’t have an answer for that.”

Huh, interesting.

“I see you at the club with the giddy littles. You enjoy them and clearly I piss you off. You’ve denied my advances for months and now suddenly you’re into me? What gives?”

Littles crawled all over him, sitting between his legs playing. Sliding around on his lap. There was no way he wasn’t getting off on those tight asses gliding all over his junk. I downed the rest of my glass and reached for the bottle to refill only he moved it away.

“Pace yourself, Jobe.”

“You pace yourself. You’re not my Daddy and I’m not your boy, and this boy wants more wine.”

“Jobe, this conversation, while uncomfortable for both of us, is unfortunately one that must be had. Preferably without overindulging in alcohol.”

Stanley didn’t appear any happier to have this conversation than I was.

“Here it is. I don’t know how or why, but something about you has drawn me in and I can’t get you off my mind.”

Blink. Blink.

“For months I avoided you and your advances. Snarky, overconfident, and reckless. It wasn’t until I saw your vulnerable side that it hit me.”

“Hit you?”

“That’s not the real you. It’s a facade you put on for others. Pretend that you don’t care what they do to you or how they use you, but I don’t buy that at all.”

I laughed. What made him think he knew me when I didn’t even know myself?

“And if you’re wrong?” I’d been used all my life. First as a paycheck to my parents then as a punching bag to men.

“I’m not and you’ll learn I rarely ever am.”

“Overconfident much?”

“You tell me.”

Fucker.

Dinner arrived and the conversation ceased, thank the food gods. I’d had enough analyzation for one night. I didn’t know who I was madder at, Stanley for being so, argh , right. Or me for letting my guard down enough for another to see inside.

“Huffing and puffing will get you nowhere. I’m onto you, Jobe.”

“Not helping.”

“Finish your dinner then we can order dessert.” He was far too pleased with himself. This only served to deepen my hostility, though dessert did sound… No, no dessert, Jobe. Finish eating and then he can drive you home.

End. Of. Date.