Chapter 81 - EIGHTY ONE

Chapter 81: Chapter EIGHTY ONE

ANGEL

Dinner was my idea.

"Can we go out tonight? Just us? Like we used to?" I’d asked.

He’d agreed and I’d nearly squealed. This might as well be our first date, he just didn’t know it yet. The last time we had dinner alone in public, I was still a kid. And afterwards I’d hated seeing Jillian dress up for him for evenings like this, but today, it was finally my turn.

I spent almost two hours getting ready.

The sundress was white. Thin straps. Hemline mid-thigh.

I didn’t wear a bra as usual—the fabric wasn’t sheer, but thin enough that every brush of cold air would announce the peaks underneath.

The makeup took longer than the dress. Mascara that made my lashes long and dark. A subtle smudge of shadow that made my eyes look bigger. Wider. And lipstick—a red so deep it was almost sinful. The kind of red that Jillian always wore when she gave him blow jobs. I hoped he’d look at my lips and envision his cock in my mouth

I found Vincenzo downstairs, already waiting. His black jacket sat open, revealing a crisp black shirt beneath, the top two buttons undone just enough to show a hint of ink crawling up from his chest. No tie. Vincenzo never wore one.

He looked up when he heard my footsteps on the stairs and his eyes swept me from head to toe in one fast pass before he met my gaze again, "Ready?"

That was all? I didn’t try to hide my disappointment, so I put on a performance by stopping at the bottom of the stairs and turned in a slow circle, letting the dress flare slightly, showing more thigh.

"Do I look pretty?" I asked, and waited.

Didn’t he know how much I desired his compliments?

"You look beautiful, Angel." His jaw worked as he said.

Was that so hard to say?

I pouted and walked toward him. I hoped he’d be able to smell the perfume I’d dabbed between my breasts and behind my ears and on the insides of my wrists where my pulse ran hot.

"You are not just saying that because you are my daddy, are you?"

"I’m saying it because it’s true."

I beamed at him brightly. "Okay, Daddy," I said cheerfully. He thought I looked pretty.

I stole a quick—innocent—kiss from his stubbled cheek before he could react, the fresh clean scent of his aftershave making my mind foggy.

I hoped I would get fucked tonight, keeping my fingers crossed. If he didn’t get my signals, I might as well just drug him at this point. But I didn’t want it to get to that. I needed him to love me. To crave me just as much as I did him. Without being coerced

At least, physically.

*

*

The restaurant was upscale with dim lighting from red and white scented candles. Vincenzo pulled my chair out and I rewarded him with another eager smile.

I picked up my menu and pretended to read it. One finger touched my lower lip. Throughout the ride here, I’d only been able to think of several ideas to make him notice me more.

"Daddy?"

"What?" He was scanning his own menu, not looking at me.

"Do you like my lipstick? You didn’t mention what exactly you found beautiful,"

His eyes lifted then, my breath caught as those dark gazes paused on my mouth. I made a fish lip as he stared.

"It’s fine," he said. So simply. Like too simple.

"Just fine?" I traced the edge of my lower lip with my fingertip. Slowly. "I spent forever picking the shade. I wanted something that looked... I don’t know. Grown up? I guess."

"Hmm," Was his only response.

My eyes narrowed at him, when he looked at me again, I quickly straightened my expression.

He could be stubborn all he wanted, I didn’t plan on giving up until I got what I wanted.

"Jillian used to wear red," I said, watching his face. "Dr Moreau wears red too. I noticed during our session. It’s not as dark as Jillian’s. More of a berry. But it suits her."

His expression was still unreadable, so I pushed it a notch.

"Is that your thing, Daddy? Red lips? Is that what you like in a woman? I also noticed you like them curvy. Have you ever been with a girl that looks like me?"

The candle flame danced between us. Vincenzo’s eyes lingered on me over the top of his menu, but there was nothing enthusiastic about it. Like my topic was of no interest to him.

"Order your food, Angel."

"I’m just asking a question." My red lips curved into a smile that remained innocent while my brain felt like hot chilli had been applied to it.

Was he interested in Dr Moreau or not?

"I just think it’s interesting. Your ex-wife wore red. Your therapist friend wears red. Now your daughter’s wearing red." I ran my tongue along my lower lip, letting it sparkle with saliva. "Maybe I should switch to pink. I don’t want to remind you of other women when you look at me."

"Angel. Order" His tone was a warning now as he set his menu down. "Now!"

His eyes were dark and steady—The command in them left no room for negotiation.

I pouted sulky. "You’re no fun, Daddy. A girl can’t even have a normal conversation about your love life,"

He said nothing much to my irritation. His lack of attention made my eyes drift, that was when I saw him.

The man was in the next booth. Late thirties, or maybe forty.

He was wearing a nice suit, and he was staring at me. Openly.

Even when I glared at him slightly, he didn’t even have the decency to look away. A lazy smirked curled on his lips. Confidently. Like he was used to women being flattered by his attention. Well since he was asking for it so bad. . . I’d also been searching for a prey.

And now, his leery gaze had ignited a venom to bite back at Vincenzo in my mind.

I needed to know if Vincenzo’s love had teeth.