LOVE SOAKED

CHAPTER 14 - Lights and candles

ASHER

A wave of nervous excitement washed over me as I texted Trisha about the date i had planned for tomorrow.

This "date" was more than just getting to know each other; it was a calculated step towards building a believable facade.  Seeing her answer with a simple "Okay" sent a thrill down my spine, quickly followed by a wave of responsibility. I needed to make this work, for both our sakes.

The doorbell chimed the next day, and a vision in sapphire blue filled the doorway. Trisha looked… stunning.  My carefully crafted line from "Bollywood movies" almost died on my lips, but I managed a playful wink and complimented her by saying "mein agar kahu, tumsa hasi, kayanat mein, nahi hai kali, taareef yeh bhi toh, Sach Hai kuch bhi nahi. (Mentally, I added a note to myself: watch more Bollywood films and listen to more songs.)

She looked shell shocked when she asked me, " you watch bollywood movies?" I simply nodded and continued to walk beside her.

Manya, her friend, had mentioned Olive Beach as her favorite spot. Perfect.  She told me it's beautiful in the evening as the whole place is lit with candles. To ensure her comfort and privacy – and, okay, some uninterrupted time with her – I booked the entire place.  Seeing her jaw drop at the sight of the waiting limo was pure satisfaction.

"Just a little something extra, i do for my business meetings," I said smoothly, before winking and ushering her in. Her eyes widened in surprise, as she saw the entire place empty. She unconsciously gripped my arm before asking,

"Did you… book the entire place?" Her voice a mix of apprehension and amusement.

"Well," I began, channeling my inner charmer, "important business meeting, i couldnt have anyone evesdropping on it and finding out that this relationshipis a hoax," I whispered.  The truth, of course, was simpler.  I wanted her to relax, indulge in that mezz platter she mentioned loving, without feeling self-conscious.  And maybe, just maybe, enjoy some uninterrupted conversation.

The hours that followed were a delightful whirlwind.  I learned about her childhood in Bangalore, her passion for sustainable architecture, landscape and her infectious laugh.  In turn, I shared stories of my life in America, the constant undercurrent of "not quite belonging" despite my loving adopted parents.  The pressure to please them, the reason behind the Anna situation, tumbled out with a surprising ease.

As the conversation flowed, I couldn't help but explore the physical aspect of our charade.  A brush of my hand against hers while reaching for the salt, a lingering touch on her back as I helped her with her chair, the time she accidently tripped and I held her by the neck instead of the waist-The charade was working a little too well, a little too close to home.

But the sadness that flickered across her face as we talked about the future wasn't lost on me.  Damn it, this was supposed to be simple.  But seeing a future without her in it, even a fake one, was unsettling.  So, I did what any smooth-talking billionaire would do – I changed the subject with dessert. And asked for her favorite music to be played.

A mischievous plan hatched in my mind as I got up to use the lavatory.The sight of her gleeful victory dance over the chocolate mousse and cherry sorbet was a sight I needed to preserve.  A discreet exchange with the waiter later, and I had a small recording device tucked away in my pocket.

"Ready to head home?" I asked, offering her my arm.

"Wait we havnt paid the bill yet." she said, her brow furrowed.

I hated that she assumed she would have to pay on this date, clearing my throat and grabbing her waist i calmly said,"Storm, there is no "we" havnt paid on a date with me."

"Besides," I said with a casual shrug, "my friend owns this place, so it's on the house for us."  It wasn't exactly a lie, but the truth – that I paid a small fortune to ensure her comfort and a little memento for myself – could wait.

As we walked back to the car, I caught a glimpse of the setting sun painting the sky in fiery hues.  A beautiful sight, but paled in comparison to the woman walking beside me.  This fake relationship was starting to feel a little too real, and a thrilling sense of fear, mixed with exhilaration, bubbled in my gut.

As the limo reached her door step, I placed a hand out to help her get out. We walked to her door step and dammit I wanted to kiss her, but I couldn't break the rule I made for myself, I wouldn't touch her, not until she told me to and what better way to tell than to beg on your knees. So I would patiently wait until she was begging me to ravage her mouth and body.

I simply said "it was a beautiful evening with an even more beautiful woman."

Her lips curled up in a smile that reached her eyes as she nodded and said " it really was, you dint have to make it so extravagant you know."

I felt angry, this wasn't extravagant, how shitty did her other boyfriends treat her, to have her believe that an evening with candles was extravagant.

Instead of showing the raging emotions within, I turned on my wit and said "get used to it storm, I have to keep you hooked on me to keep other guys out of your mind."

She chuckled and said something about book boyfriends and names like rhys larsen, Ryan shaw, Kai Rhodes and Davis walker.

Who in the fucking world are these guys?Were they billionaires? Did they have a bigger dick? Are they just as handsome and charming as I am?

Sleep can wait,I was going to Google the shit out of them tonight before I sleep.