Page 13 of Fur the Night

“Where … where would you like to have dinner? And when?”

“Oh, of course,” he said, pulling out his phone. “Give me your number.”

Rylee pulled out her phone, and they exchanged numbers, sending each other a text to confirm. Silence fell between them, the hush of the morning holding its breath as she took another step away from him. Rylee swallowed hard, knowing that she had to get out of this room before she threw herself on him again.

“I’d better go,” she said cheerfully. “Thanks for everything. Bye!”

Rylee turned and struggled with the doorknob for a few seconds, knowing that her words were completely inadequate but having no idea what she could have said. She won her brief battle with the door and managed to hobble down the hallway, taking it slow on her ankle even though it wasn’t really sore anymore.

She hurried to get out onto the street, desperate to get home to her apartment and into a familiar setting. She needed to process these feelings and think about everything that had happened. Already, she was starting to reason things out and separate facts from emotion. She felt a strong connection to Gage. That was real. But something about the whole situation frightened her. She didn’t know if she could just relax and enjoy the company of a good man … it had been such a long time.

It has been a long time since I had company. It's been a long time since I relaxed, and even longer since I knew a good man … if I ever have.

SEVEN

RYLEE

Rylee was on pins and needles, getting ready for her date. She could barely focus on her work that day, knowing that she was going to see the sexiest man she had ever laid her eyes on. She had never felt so drawn to someone, not in her entire life, especially after only meeting them one time

Their connection was electric…physically anyway. Rylee told herself there was just some magnetism about Gage and that she just hadn’t had a good fuck in a long time. But deep down, she knew there was something else. Something that she wasn’t willing to acknowledge just yet.

She got changed out of her work slacks and plain T-shirt and showered, wanting to feel fresh for her date. Rylee shuffled through the options she had laid out neatly in her closet…using a divider, of course…where she hung up her work clothing and what she called her “outing wear.” She gazed at it, squinting, rubbing her bottom lip.

Should she be mischievous tonight and wear something a bit more risqué? Or should she keep things equal to their previous interaction?

Rylee thought about her friends, Maeve, Sydney, and Cassie, all of whom had seemed a bit distant lately. She wondered if that night at Midnight Mates had some kind of effect on them too. But she knew what advice they would give her if they were there: go big or go fucking home.

“Oh, fuck it,” Rylee whispered to herself.

She pulled out the most scandalous dress she owned. It was a one-piece leather getup that tightly hugged the strong curves of her body. The cleavage was generous and tight enough to push them together and make them appear larger than they were.

It was more comfortable than it looked. It appeared like a latex material, fitting around her like a dominatrix costume. She applied some red lipstick, darker than she usually went, and then kissed them together in the mirror.

She stood, placed her hands on her hips, and admired herself.

Her hair was down, swaying in its natural, beachy-wave look. In some castings of light, her hair looked lighter, almost red in streaks. She shook it back and forth, so it fell in front of her face, a glint of yellow splashing through her light hazel eyes.

Rylee would think she looked smashing, an enhanced version of the person who took care of injured students during the daytime. She often thought of herself as having an alternate personality in the evening, like a superhero…night crawling vixen prowling the street for a good solid romp.

Though she knew that wasn’t who she was, it was fun and sexy to pretend. Well, at least until she met Gage anyway. There was dark broodiness about him, like gazing into a well, something that made you want to keep looking further.

Rylee met up with Gage at the restaurant after imploring him that she gets there on her own. She was fine with the idea of him perhaps driving her home, but she wanted to maintain some level of mystique, to theatrically make him crave her right up until the very last second he laid eyes on her. She brought a long black coat that covered her from head to toe, with bright red heels that just screamed come hither.

Rylee also knew as she sat in the cab gazing out on the Chicago night that she wouldn’t be able to keep her hands off Gage if they were in a car alone. It was something she perhaps would allow later, but they had been texting back and forth for a week. She wanted to talk to him, get to know him, as much as she wanted to potentially fuck him.

She bit her lip, her hot core burning as she swam in the memory of their very first union.

When she arrived at the restaurant, she knew it was going to be swanky. Rylee wasn’t new to anything expensive, but it had been a while since someone had wined and dined her. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as she paid the cab driver, then breathed in deeply just outside the entrance.

She wanted to look like a confident, sultry spitfire, which was something she certainly could be when the mood would strike her. But she was also ridiculously nervous, knowing that Gage’s physical appearance was certainly going to shock her.

“Just go for it,” she whispered to herself.

Rylee entered the restaurant to the sound of a cello solo. A few heads turned as the door closed softly behind her, men and women alike looking her up and down. There were swirls of attraction mixed with a little bit of vulnerability. It took confidence to wear something so exposing as a woman as the gender often had to walk a razor's edge in keeping themselves safe from constant criticism.

And far worse.

But Rylee ignored their stares, clicking passed a group of men and a few women and smiling at the hostess. She felt herself slipping into her alternate personality, the one with metaphorical armor raised at all times.