I walked through the familiar double doors of Deacon's classroom and found him dressed nicely instead of in his regular paint-stained pants and tank top.
"What?" I hesitated.
"Let go," he held his hand for me to take.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"To dinner," he clarified.
"Why would I want to go to dinner? I thought this was a work thing. You help me work through my fears, and I help you work through yours," I reminded.
"Yeah," he concurred while closing the gap between us.
His left arm held my waist, pressing me up against his rock-hard physique. I always wondered how an art professor had such a well-fit body. He leaned down to my right ear.
"That was before you begged me to fuck you the other night. Now I can't get your perfect body out of my mind," he confessed.
I tried wiggling from his grasp, but there was no use. He bit down on my neck.
"Ugh," I moaned
"Now, let me take you on a date," he added.
"Fine!" I whimpered, "You don't have to be so mean."
"You like your men dominant. I found that out the other night as well," he teased.
"Fuck you-"
He pressed his lips to mine and rubbed his tongue ruthlessly in my mouth. I felt the air escaping from my lungs as it became harder and harder to breathe. My head began tingling.
"Now, I have a reservation in thirty minutes. Let's go," he stated.
He held my left hand within his grasp and pulled me after him without my reply. I felt like he was going to rip my arm from its socket when we both stopped in front of one of the fanciest Lamborghinis I'd ever seen,
"How can a professor afford such a nice car?" I blurted.
He opened the door with a cocky expression. He looked so familiar that I couldn't quite grasp it.
"My family has a lot of money," he confessed while gesturing for me to get inside.
I shook my head, baffled by his answer and the current situation. What the hell was going on? This question racked my brain the entire drive. When he opened the door for me, I froze. I'd been here before.
"Montrio Bistro?" I asked.
"Yes," he confirmed.
The valet came and took his keys without hesitation.
"Do they know you here?" I questioned.
"Somewhat," he vaguely replied while guiding me inside.
Everyone greeted him as we walked by, as if he were the owner. I was in awe when we sat at a secluded table hidden behind black double doors. The modern candlelight illuminated the quiet room overlooking the beautiful ocean. It was too good to believe.
"Come," Deacon gestured while pulling a chair for me to sit.
I pressed my tongue inside my cheek before reluctantly listening, "Are you going to tell me how you and your family are so rich, or will you keep me guessing the whole night?"
"My family are co-owners and investors in many businesses," Deacon started before sitting in the chair opposite mine. He poured us both a glass of champagne.
"And?" I asked.
"And that's it," he concluded, "They come from old money. It has been in the family for generations. I wanted nothing to do with that life. Since I have an older brother, I can do whatever I want."
"Did your family just let you leave? They didn't want you to work in another part of your business," I asked.
He rubbed his knuckles in annoyance, "No, I changed my last name. I still receive money, but I don't claim them as my family, and they don't claim me as their own."
"That's horrible," I commented.
"That's the rich," he clarified.
"Now, let's drink this bottle of champagne, eat this delicious steak, and return to your place," he sighed.
"Back to my place?" I giggled.
"Of course, you didn't think you weren't getting fucked tonight."
I have to admit, the date was fun. Deacon made me laugh to the point of tears with how ridiculous and outlandish he could be.
"Where should I park my car?" Deacon asked.
"In my drive- what the Hell?" My heart sank to my stomach, "Is that my Rolls Royce?"
I opened the door before Deacon came to a complete stop and bolted over to the car. It was mine. Fear struck me as my breathing quickened. I ran inside my home to have terror engulf me. Zeus.