I laugh at the idea that having a wife and kids is considered unusual to him. That I should just keep being a playboy and enjoy endless limousine rides and champagne.
But I know I’ve had my fill.
I want my forever woman. I want to hold her tight and feel her belly swell with my child.
It’s a more exciting thought than a one-night stand could ever be.
3
OLIVIA
There is nothing more fashionable than your comfort. Keep loose-fitting, light clothing as your base when trying to develop your own style for the summer. We all want to be cute, but there’s nothing cute about breathing heavily and being covered with sweat when you’re just walking down the street.
I finish off my article, warning against a new trend of wearing super formfitting body tights. It’s been developing in Linesworth, and I have to do my part in stopping it. Your body needs to breathe, and so many people seem to forget that when choosing what to wear, thinking the best way to show off their ass is to leave nothing to the imagination. People can admire your ass really well when you keel over face first from heatstroke, I suppose.
I finish up the article and make a quick editing pass before uploading it. I managed to score a pretty sweet gig as the fashion writer for the local newspaper, doing my part to direct the people of Linesworth to what’s cool and in. I’ve gotten pretty favorable feedback, so I must be doing something right.
As soon as the article is live, I rush into the bathroom and start to get ready for my big date.
I’m taking the pact I made with Piper seriously. I’m more than ready to get going in my life and nab the man of my dreams. It’s all so much easier said than done, but I’ve got faith in myself to attract the right kind of man.
Even if I answered the weirdest of personal ads.
‘WIFE WANTED,’ it said, cutting straight to the point. My gut told me that it was some hyper-religious type who wanted a servant more than a partner in life, but reading further, it looked like we had some common ground. There was a desire for serious commitment, not wanting to go through the back and forth of playing ‘will they, won’t they’ games. We would both enter the relationship with the same end goal. If I want to be wed and bred by Chloe’s second birthday, I need a man who has the same goals and I can’t hesitate.
Despite that, I can’t shake the idea that it’s all very creepy. I guess it fits with my own insane endeavor. Some couples go years without deciding to get married, and here I am wanting to rush ahead and not only get married, but start a family.
All preened and ready for my first date with my potential husband, I head over to the coffee shop. I chose somewhere nice and public. I may be rushing headlong into marriage, but I’m not going to be stupid about it.
I head inside, looking around. I have this guy’s picture. He’s attractive enough, I guess. It’s hard to really gauge your attraction to someone on a picture alone. One, pictures are easily faked, and two, sometimes what really drives people together are things that are intangible and only meeting face-to-face will reveal those things.
I see him at a table. He’s got short, dark hair, parted to the left. Dark circles under his eyes, which isn’t a turnoff for me. It can suggest a bit of darkness inside, which I can understand, or maybe that he likes to go all night long. Which also is something I’m totally for. He looks up at me and I get a chill down my spine. I can’t exactly place it, but something about him unnerves me.
I’m overreacting. He hasn't done anything to rub me the wrong way just yet. I offer my hand. “Hi there. I’m Olivia. I answered the ad you posted in the magazine?”
“Gary,” he mumbles as he shakes my hand. His is oddly warm.
I push my negative thoughts aside as I sit down across from him. “So, what’s driven you to post such an ad? It was eye-catching given what I’m used to seeing in the classifieds.”
“Isn’t that the point?” He sniffs, nodding toward me. “I’m tired of girls not wanting to be more than just girls. I want a woman. A woman who can be my queen. A woman I can worship.”
“Uh huh,” I reply, nodding back at him. In a vacuum, the words he said aren’t all that unappealing to me. But something about the way he said them rubs me the wrong way.
“Simultaneously total prudes and total sluts. Won’t put out until a bad boy shows up, then their legs go wide open.”
I grimace.
“But you? You look like a good girl. Someone who knows what’s important.”
“Do I, now?”
“Yeah,” he seethes, grabbing my hands and pulling me forward. The red flags are piling up quick, to the point there are so many of them that I’m losing count. “You look like the type of girl who will open up nice and wide and take my cock right inside her lips. Who will suck me real good and swallow every drop, and then stare right at me and tell me, ‘Thank you sir, may I have some more?’”
I swallow audibly as I stare at him blankly.
He grips my hands tighter, pulling me closer. “Then you’ll bend over in front of me and give yourself to me. And I’ll give you what you want. What you deserve. I’ll fuck you good and hard and flood you with my cum, baby. Again and again, no matter how much you tell me you’ve had enough.”
I shake my head, snapping back to reality. We are done here.
I try to pull my hand away from his, but his grip tightens. “Let go of my hand.”
“Then, when you’re good and bred, I’m going to fuck your ass. Fuck it real good. You’re going to be my pregnant butt slut.”
“Let go. Now. You have no sense of boundaries and I’ve had enough of this.”
He still refuses. “I thought you knew what you wanted. I thought you wanted a husband. Someone to be your master.”
“I want a husband, not a master.”
“They’re the same thing.”
“They aren’t, and you not understanding that is why I’m seeing myself out of here.”
What did I expect responding to such an insane ad?
I pull harder, but his grip is stronger. So strong that I’m moving him, but still not getting my hand back. “Let go or I’m going to scream and cause one hell of a scene. I don’t think you want that, buddy.”
“You wouldn’t. You like this. You want a man to do this to you. To treat you like this. To put you in your place. Or you wouldn’t have answered my ad.”
Holy shit. This guy is way past wanting some sort of kinky BDSM relationship. If it was that, it’d be consensual. Instead? I’m thinking this guy is probably a danger to society.
And right now? He’s a danger to me. “Let my hand go. Right now. Last warning.”
“Admit it. Admit you want me.”
I suck in the breath, ready to make that scene I promised.
“Let her go, pal,” a man’s firm voice commands, shoving my date hard enough that he has no choice but to obey him.
I look up at the stranger intervening in this situation. Clad in a business suit, he’s broad-shouldered with sandy blond hair. He’s far more handsome than this creep, even before I was aware of just how much of a creep this guy is.