Page 45 of Don't Speak
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
When I got home this morning, breakfast was already made and waiting for me at the table. I don’t know how I got so lucky, but I silently thanked the universe for giving me a shred of happiness. After everything I’ve been through, I feel like I deserve it.
After breakfast, we cleaned up our mess and relaxed for a bit on the couch.
I read one of my books while Dean watched TV, Simba lying on top of my stomach as I lay in Dean’s lap.
It was at that moment that Dean informed me that he wanted to take me on a proper date.
The Bunker is opening soon, having been closed this entire time due to Ben’s death, so before our lives become busy again, this is what he wanted to do.
After getting ready, he informed me that he wanted to take me out for dinner and a movie, which is how we find ourselves at Meat & Greet, the local steakhouse.
“What can I get for you to drink tonight?” the waitress asks.
“We’ll have a bottle of cabernet, please,” Dean answers, folding up the drink menu and handing it to her.
“You got it,” she says before leaving the table.
Dean turns his attention to me.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he tells me, and a blush creeps up my neck.
I don’t have many options to choose from for ‘going out’ clothes, so I chose the only black dress I have in my closet.
I paired it with some black heels, earrings, and a few bracelets, and I curled my hair before doing my makeup.
I have to admit, I do think I’m beautiful tonight.
At that thought, I wonder who I am right now.
That little voice in my head has been quiet lately, and I can’t remember the last time I felt good about myself.
Dean looks handsome as ever, having gotten equally as dressed up as I did tonight.
He is currently sporting a white Calvin Klein dress shirt with black slacks and black dress shoes.
He’s wearing a silver watch on his left wrist and a black leather bracelet on the right.
A silver chain also sits on his neck. He is really easy on the eyes.
“Thank you,” I respond with a smile. “You're not too shabby yourself. You clean up nice.” I blush before changing the subject. “So, Dean, tell me something about you that I don’t know.”
“I hate to say that I’m not very interesting, little lioness.”
“Try me.”
“Well, my favorite colors are red and black, my middle name is Christopher, I have a love for bees, and I can seriously chow down on some cheese balls. Those severely processed cheese puffs are hard to resist.”
I giggle, a slight snort escaping me before I cover my mouth and nose with my hand, embarrassed by the sound that just left me.
Dean smiles, and as if he can read my mind, he says, “Don’t be embarrassed. I thought it was cute.”
I stare at him, lost in his eyes, when the waitress returns with our wine.
My heart constricts again under his gaze, and I blush.
She pours each of us a glass and sets the bottle down.
She takes our order, and I order the filet mignon, medium rare, with a side of mashed potatoes and asparagus.
Dean orders a center-cut filet, medium-rare, with mashed potatoes and mixed veggies, and the waitress leaves to put the order in.
“Oh, good. You’re not one of those cardboard eaters,” I joke.
“Cardboard eaters?” he questions.
“Yeah, you know, someone who eats their steak any more cooked than medium rare. I'll be generous and say medium, but anything more than that is psychopathic.”
“I can’t argue with that logic.” He smiles. “So tell me a few things about you. Things most people wouldn’t know.”
I follow what he did when I asked.
“My favorite color is emerald green, my middle name is Marie, I am obsessed with snakes and mermaids, and I could quite literally eat an entire jar of Nutella by itself and be perfectly content.”
His eyes widen. “An entire jar?”
“Indeed. I have no shame. I am a Nutella fiend.”
“Noted,” he says with a nod.
Just then, our waitress delivers our food, and we fall into a comfortable silence for the first several bites until he breaks it.
“Where do you see yourself in five years?”
The question takes me aback for a second. No one has ever asked me that before, and I’ve never really thought about it. I’ve been living in a state of fight or flight my entire life. I’m just thankful to make it to the next day.
“I don’t know… I’ve never really thought about it. I’ve just been trying to get to the next day, you know? What about you?”
“I’d like to be married, I know that. I’ve never really had a desire to have kids, so I want to travel, maybe go to Greece and New Zealand.”
“That sounds wonderful. I hope that you are able to fulfill that dream one day,” I say, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of sadness.
Noticing my change in demeanor, he asks, “What happened? Where did you go?”
“Hearing you talk about your dreams and aspirations is heartwarming. Seeing your face light up when you talk about it makes me happy for you, it does. It’s just been something I’ve never been allowed to think about.
I’ve never had enough money to travel. I’ve never met anyone I’ve felt like I could see myself marrying.
No one wants a woman who has been damaged by another man. ”
His gaze darkens, and his face grows serious when he says, “I will not allow you to talk about yourself that way, little lioness. I will take you over this table, and have you screaming your worth to the entire restaurant if that is what it takes. You’re beautiful, and you’re worthy and deserving of love, and I won’t hear you say otherwise.
Understood?” His tone is direct, but not domineering.
He truly believes the things he’s telling me, and he wants me to believe those things too.
My panties grow wet with his compliments, and that familiar vice around my heart squeezes again.
As much as I’m scared to admit it, I think I’m falling in love with this man.
“I understand,” I breathe out, my skin growing hot.
The rest of dinner goes wonderfully. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so much.
Dean is surprisingly funny, and I’ve really enjoyed this time getting to know him.
After our main course, I ordered a dessert.
Dean isn’t much of a sweets eater, so I ended up devouring the chocolate fudge brownie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream solo. It was delectable.
Once we’ve paid our bill, we head out, making our way to the next destination.
Starlight Cinema is just a short 8-minute drive from the steakhouse.
Tonight, they are showing a special screening of Pretty Woman, which hysterically happens to be Dean’s favorite movie.
I’ve seen it a few times and have enjoyed it.
It will be nice getting to experience it on the big screen.
Once we’ve parked, we make our way inside. We both grab a soda before heading back to our theatre.
“Last theatre on the left,” the ticket attendant says before ripping the tickets in half and handing us our sides. Walking with my arm looped in his, we head back to our destination, finding our seats in the very back of the theatre quickly.
As we settle into our seats, Dean lifts the middle armchair, allowing the space between us to be barrierless.
The seats in this theater also recline, so we do just that.
We just ease into comfort when the previews start.
For the next hour, we sit in comfortable silence, laughing along with the movie.
There are hardly any people in here with us.
A couple sits in the very front, leaning back, with his arm around hers.
There’s a woman and her mother positioned near the middle and to the right, and a single man is seated at the opposite end, to the left.
Everyone is spread a good distance apart.
A thought crosses my mind, and I smirk devilishly.
I’m curled into him with both of us leaning back in the seat.
Slowly, I glide my hand up Dean’s leg, reaching the bulge in his slacks.
I rub over him lightly, teasing him ever so slightly.
His muscles tense, and I feel his chest rise and fall quicker than it was before.
I add a little more pressure, pressing down a bit more firmly.
He relaxes, arousal taking over his body.
I feel so… scandalous. I’ve never done anything like this before, especially not with other people around.
At that thought, I get my anxiety kicks in, and I pull back, returning to my own seat.
I see Dean stare at me from the corner of my eye, and I flush under his gaze.
Sensing my hesitancy, he leans in, grazing his own hand up my inner thigh and brushing against my center.
I suck in a breath. He leans in and whispers, “Don’t start something you can’t finish, little lioness.
Because if you don’t finish it, I will.”
His fingers begin to circle my clit, and I let out a moan. It comes out a bit louder than I intended, and I quickly cover my mouth with my hand, eyes widening. I look around, but no one seems to have noticed with how loud it is in here from the movie.
Dean leans in again, dipping his finger lower and gathering my arousal before circling my clit again.
He whispers, “You’re going to need to be quiet.
Don’t make a sound.” Just then, his finger plunges into me, and my mouth opens, but before any sound comes out, Dean plants his lips on mine, capturing the sound with his mouth.
He kisses me roughly as he moves in and out of me.
I feel myself grow wetter with his need for me.