MATE AND HIS LOVER 9

#34 Cost of security

Gloved service, chandeliers, a violin show... Restaurant 18KC at West Parsay is not the kind of restaurant criminals meet at for dinner. Especially not by the seat next to the gilded windows and koi pond.

But this is the place Mont chose to meet with Daisy, at Daisy's expense, of course. She had to hack into the restaurant's booking system and steal someone else's table, because the next available slot was days away, and she wanted to meet him as soon as possible.

While waiting for their soup orders, Mont — a short, pasty, redhead guy in an impeccably sheen, cream-colored summer suit — explains Daisy about a safe house option in Panama. It's expensive, he keeps reminding her in-between blotting his lips with the napkin. But also the safest, he adds every time.

As Mont gives out the details, Daisy, and even Frank (who had insisted to come with her) is impressed with the arrangement.

In order to not get caught by Ian again, Daisy decided to think less like a runaway rogue and more like the CEO of one of the Forbes Fortune 500 companies and looked for individuals who heed to the illicit requests of the ultra rich middle aged white men.

To Monk, Daisy doesn't really fit into his usual client demographics. But he likes her. She's smart and good looking. Even though he wonders what a girl like her could possibly need to hide from he doesn't ask about it, and never will. That's the number one rule of his business — you don't ask clients why? Only "How may I help you?" 

Mont wants to make sure Daisy gets the best hideout possible. But, as he kept telling her, it really is expensive. "One really shouldn't save pennies at the cost of security, especially a young girl like you," Monk says.

Frank wanted to pay for this whole thing but Daisy told him she would ask for money when she really needs it. This time, she has it covered. The payment Daisy received from her Mexico job is more than enough to pay for Mont. 

By the end of the dinner meeting, Monk has received his advance. It will take a couple of weeks before the arrangement is done. He promises to get in touch with her soon enough and leaves with a little gentleman bow to his client and her friend.

On their way back, Frank says, "Can I ask you something? About your past. You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but... what was your relationship with Ian like?"

Daisy doesn't think this was an impromptu question. "What I told Nate at the flight was true: I was never in a romantic relationship with Ian Stanton, or any other guy. I didn't have time for boys."

"Then you two were friends?" Frank says.

There was a time Daisy would've answered yes to that question without thinking, but now she's angry with herself for once considering someone like Ian her friend.

But then again, she didn't have much choice at the time.

"He was the only one close to my age in the gang, besides another boy who was younger than us, so I often hung out with him."

"What did he think of you?"

Daisy feels like Frank had hit the nail without even knowing, or maybe he did subconsciously know. She's not sure if it's wise to share with anyone what really drove her out of the Stantons yet.

"A useful subordinate," she replies; which is not entirely a lie, she thinks.

THE FOLLOWING DAY, Frank informs Nate about the meeting. Nate reluctantly agrees to let Daisy briefly leave for somewhere where she could have some space to think. It is what's best for her, given how he keeps losing himself around her these days.

Since some resolution has been reached and Daisy has calmed down, Nate decides to return home in the afternoon.

When he enters his house he sees Daisy taking a nap on the couch.

Her scanty camisole had ridden up while she had rolled in her sleep, exposing the crescent of her pale waist and the top of her hips. The fabric is piled up right under her breasts.

Nate swallows. He thinks he should look away, but is unable to do so. Then he thinks he should help cover her by pulling down the top, so her hips would stop beckoning to him like a siren.

Standing near the couch, he licks his lips. Somehow his mouth feels dry and wet at the same time. He takes his hand over her slender figure, dying to grab and feel it under him. But, grinding his teeth, he resists the urge and uses his thumb and index fingers to carefully pinch one of the folds of the crumbled up fabric below her breasts, and gently pulls it down.

Then he hurries into his room with his hard on throbbing and aching between his legs and his eyes having completely turned dark. He shoves his hand into his pocket, takes out the strip and pops in the red pill.

After hearing the door close, Daisy covered her mouth with her hand and curled into herself.

She doesn't remember when her sleep went away or what made it leave, but it was already too late when it did: she knew Nate was there and he was leaning down towards her.

Her instinct told her to stay still and she listened.

It took everything in her to prevent her breathing and heart from abandoning their lulled rhythms from the time she was still sleeping, and instead go sprinting, as she felt the thin camisole tickle her skin while Nate slowly slid it down.

She remembers the touch of his rough hands from the time when he kissed her on the plane. At the time, he wasn't himself and she wanted to be out of his reach as far as possible.

But now... her waist ached from the anticipation of feeling his large, coarse hand around it, tight and deep. But to both her disappointment and relief, Nate had better self restraint this time around.

🗳 See you on next chapter! ⭐️