Chapter 7

7

C in arrived at the restaurant early. The pinkie finger of her left hand kept twitching. It was how her big brother always knew she was bluffing at cards. That twitch was her tell.

She balled her hand into a fist, trying to stop her nerves. This was just dinner. Just dinner.

The scent of roasted garlic and freshly baked bread wafted from the kitchen, mingling with the faint aroma of pine from the holiday wreaths adorning the walls. There was a hearty laugh from a man sitting next to the window. His white beard and jolly attitude would've made him a perfect Santa impersonator.

As though he felt eyes on him, the jolly old Nick looked up. Cin ducked her head. She had always known there was no real Santa Claus. But if this man saw her face, or her twitching finger, he'd know she was steadily rising to the top of the naughty list.

Earlier, she had stopped herself from calling Kristen to offer her a ride, reminding herself that this was not a date. This was just a casual dinner between two friends, a thank you from Kristen for Cin coming to her rescue at the holiday party. Nothing more. Yet as Cin redirected the waiter to seat her at a more secluded table with better lighting, she knew she was fooling herself. The butterflies in her stomach betrayed her true feelings.

Cin smoothed down her vibrant red pantsuit. The fabric was soft and luxurious under her fingertips. She'd always been a fan of wearing pants. Even when she wore a skirt or dress, she often wore pants or leggings underneath. The garment gave her a sense of power.

She had chosen it carefully, wanting to look her best, but not too obvious. The truth was, she had been drawn to Kristen from the moment they met. Her quiet strength and unassuming beauty had captivated Cin in a way she couldn't ignore. The pinkie finger of her right hand twitched again, as though agreeing with the sentiment.

Cin ignored her twitching fingers and settled into her seat. The gentle strains of a piano playing a Christmas melody created a cozy, intimate atmosphere. She reached for her glass of water, the coolness of the crystal grounding her as she waited.

She only had to wait a brief moment. She saw the moment when Kristen stepped through the door. She looked stunning, her brown hair cascading in loose waves around her shoulders, her simple dress highlighting her natural beauty. It was Cin's heart that was twitching now as she wondered how she would keep her feelings to herself and just remain friends.

The object of her desire didn't have her curves hidden tonight. That wasn't a sports bra Kristen wore. Her girls were pushed up, making Cin's mouth water. Kristen walked confidently, and Cin knew that she had to be wearing the Benwa balls snug in that tight pussy of hers.

Kristen spotted her and smiled. When she did, her eyes lit up in a way that made Cin's pulse quicken. Cin stood, waving her over, trying to keep her flailing pinkies and misbehaving heart in check.

"I'm usually the early one," Kristen said by way of greeting.

Cin pulled out the other woman's seat, which made Kristen smile shyly. She pushed Kristen's seat closer to the table, closer to her. As Cin rounded her, she caught a whiff of her delicate perfume and felt instantly hungry.

"I just got here a few minutes ago," Cin said as she took her seat, dragging her own chair as close to the table—as close to Kristen—as she could get.

The waiter approached with menus. The clock on the wall ticked faster. Cin wanted to yank out the batteries of the timepiece. She wanted to savor this moment, to let herself enjoy Kristen's company without overthinking every word and gesture. But it was hard when her heart was so clearly invested.

"Thank you again for saving me at the party," Kristen said. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

Cin shrugged as she poured the wine the waiter had brought over first for Kristen and then herself. "It was nothing, really. I'm just glad I could help."

"It meant a lot to me," Kristen insisted, her gaze intense. "You're a good friend, Cin."

Friend . The word echoed in Cin's mind, a reminder of the boundaries she was supposed to respect. But as she looked into Kristen's eyes, she couldn't help but wish for more.

"I'm only sorry Justin wasn't worthy of you."

Now it was Kristen's turn to shrug. "I think we both saw he's not my type."

"Was it that his muscles were bigger than his brain?"

Kristen threw her head back and let out a giggle.

Cin's nostrils flared as she watched. Her gaze swept over Kristen's parted lips. Her eyes fell on the perfect symmetry of her collarbone. And then she choked.

"What's your type?" Kristen asked.

Cin reached for her wine to try and clear her throat. "My type?"

"Yes."

"My type is you." It's not what Cin meant to say, but when had her brain and her heart been in sync? Since the dawn of never. Cin had a habit of saying exactly what she wanted. She just never found any woman who wanted the same thing. Better to have it out in the open now.

"Me?"

Cin nodded, holding Kristen's gaze. "Someone who is submissive. Obedient. Eager to please."

Kristen gave a shake of her head. "That's not me."

"Yes, it is."

Kristen closed her mouth instead of arguing.

"Too bad you want a human with a dick. Though I do have an impressive collection." She was fucking this friendship all up, and she knew it. It would be better this way. Better to have Kristen reject her now and put distance between them.

Kristen looked like she didn't know whether to laugh or not. Whether Cin was joking or not. "Are you hitting on me?"

"Hitting on you would be a mistake. Because you're my type. The exact type of woman who I would fall in love with and then get hurt."

"I would never hurt you." Kristen's words were instant.

Her hand reached across the table as though she would grab Cin's hand, twitchy pinkie and all. But she stopped short, just as Cin knew she would.

"Yes, you would. Because you're completely heterosexual. Aren't you?"

"I…?"

Cin leaned in. "Or are you curious?"

Kristen looked like she couldn't breathe.

This was the heady part for Cin, getting a woman to question her identity and then reforming it for them. She was a bastard, and she knew it. But she also knew how this would end. Her alone, rejected once again by someone who didn't want her. So why not tell the truth? Why not put it all out on the table and get it over with?

"I've wanted to fuck you since the first day I saw you."

"You have?"

"If it's all right with you, I'd like to get it out of my system. It'll be the best sex of your life. I'll make you come so hard you'll see stars. You'll see how a woman should be treated. Would you like that?"