Once we signed on the dotted line, and I managed to convince Elle to join me for lunch, we headed out. The car ride to the restaurant was tense. It wasn’t because of her. At least, not for anything she was doing. It was me. I was insane for taking the daughter of my business partner and friend out, even for a platonic lunch.
Platonic, yeah. There was nothing platonic about my plans for her. I wanted her in every way a depraved man like me could want her. Flashes of her lace-covered breasts and thighs poking out from her work attire kept reminding me of my intentions. She was tempting me even in the car, her fragile hand placed between us since we left, her shapely legs crossed and leaning toward mine, the way her hourglass curves filled out her blouse and skirt.
“I’m pleased you walked into the meeting,” I remarked emotionlessly, attempting to appear in control outwardly and subdue myself inwardly.
“Yeah, you seem it,” she snapped.
I couldn’t blame her. I knew my actions were confusing.
“I am, but I know this is wrong.”
“What’s wrong?”
“This. You and I, us, together.”
“I wasn’t aware we were together. If it’s a problem, why invite me to go to lunch?” she asked with an affronted tone.
It was a simple yet damning question. And the answer was clear. Even though I was bound by a promise, I couldn’t stay away. I wanted to be near her. I wanted her scent in my nose. I wanted to admire her beautiful face in the flesh, not frozen in the captured moments hung across her parents’ home. I wanted her, which is why I kept an emotional wall between us. I couldn’t get close. And I couldn’t be candid about my intentions either. So, I told her a shade of the truth.
“I have an opportunity, and I plan to take it. I should keep my distance from you, but I find it difficult. You’re a good girl, and I don’t want to take advantage of your…respectabilities.”
“You need not be concerned with my respectabilities.”
