Mr Bennett

I tugged nervously at the hem of my black Chanel mini dress, feeling the cool air against my thighs. This dress was one of my absolute favorites it made me feel expensive and pretty, but tonight, the fancy restaurant felt way too big and intimidating. I hated being stared at, even if it was just because I looked nice.

I pressed closer to daddy's side as we walked toward the reserved table, using his broad frame as a shield. "Daddy, do I really have to stay for the whole dinner?" I whispered, my voice small and shy. "Can't we just go home and watch a movie instead?"

"Just for a little while, sweetie," he said gently, patting my hand. "It's important to be social. Besides, one of my best friends from the bank is joining us tonight. You'll like him."

I pouted slightly, adjusting my hair. I was used to getting what I wanted, but tonight I just wanted to be curled up in my bed with my pillows. Ever since Mama died when I was born, Daddy had spoiled me rotten he never said no to my shopping trips or my expensive heels but even his spoiling couldn't make me feel brave in places like this.

As we approached the table, my heart gave a strange little flutter. A man was already sitting there. He wasn't like the usual boring businessmen Daddy worked with. He was tall really tall and his shoulders looked impossibly broad even under his expensive suit. His hair was graying at the temples in a way that made him look sophisticated and dangerous at the same time.

When he stood up to greet my father, I froze. His eyes blue, like ice but somehow warm immediately locked onto mine. I felt a heat creep up my neck and into my cheeks. I immediately ducked my head, hiding behind Daddy's arm, peeking at him through my long lashes.

"james, good to see you again, old friend," Daddy said, shaking the man's hand. "And this is my precious Cecilia."

I heard the man's footsteps as he moved closer. I could smell him before he even spoke something expensive, like sandalwood and bergamot mixed with a faint hint of something masculine and clean. It made my stomach do a weird flip.

"A pleasure, Cecilia," the man said. His voice was deep, a rich baritone that seemed to vibrate right through my chest. It wasn't the polite, customer service voice most adults used with me; it sounded... deliberate. "Your father hasn't done you justice. You're absolutely stunning."

I bit my lip, feeling my face burn even hotter. I didn't know what to say. I just gave a tiny, hesitant nod, unable to meet those intense blue eyes. 'He's scary,' I thought to myself, 'but... why does he make me feel so tingly?'

"Come, sit down, let's eat," Daddy encouraged, guiding us to the chairs. I slid into the velvet seat next to him, feeling small and delicate. Across from us, james Bennett settled in, his gaze never fully leaving me. Even when he was talking to my father about interest rates and market shares, I could feel those eyes tracking every movement I made every time I took a sip of water or fidgeted with my napkin.

I kept my gaze fixed firmly on the white tablecloth, focusing on the intricate patterns woven into the fabric instead of looking up. Every time I dared to glance up, I caught james's eyes. They weren't just watching me; they seemed to be studying me, like I was something precious and fragile that he wanted to examine under a microscope.

The dinner progressed with the clinking of silver against fine china and the low hum of other conversations in the restaurant, but to me, the only sound that mattered was james's voice. When he laughed at something Daddy said, the sound was deep and velvety, making my pulse quicken beneath the silk of my dress.

"So, Cecilia," james said suddenly, breaking through my spiraling thoughts. The sudden attention made me jump slightly, my fork clattering against my plate. "Your father tells me you've been spending quite some time at the boutiques lately. A young lady with such exquisite taste deserves to be spoiled, wouldn't you agree?"

I felt Daddy's hand cover mine on the table, a comforting gesture. "Oh, you know her, james. She has a weakness for anything designer. I can't say no to that face."

I finally forced myself to look up, meeting james's gaze for more than a split second. "I... I just like things that feel nice," I managed to stammer out, my fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of my skirt. "The quality matters."

"Quality is everything," james agreed, his lips curving into a slow, knowing smile that didn't quite reach those piercing blue eyes. "There's no substitute for something well made, something... substantial." His eyes dropped to my collarbone for a fraction of a second before snapping back to mine, and I felt like he was undressing me with nothing but his stare.

I reached for my wine glass, my hand shaking just enough that the crystal rim tapped against my teeth. "Would you like some more wine, Cecilia?" Daddy asked, noticing my discomfort.

"No thank you, Daddy, I'm fine," I whispered, taking a small sip of the water instead. I felt exposed, like the Chanel dress which usually made me feel powerful was suddenly too thin, too revealing. I could feel the heat of james's presence across the table like a physical weight.

As Daddy turned to discuss a new investment with james, I seized the moment to take a bite of my steak, trying to appear composed. But then, I felt it a deliberate movement. james shifted in his seat, leaning forward slightly. His large hand, with those prominent veins I'd noticed earlier, rested on the table, dangerously close to mine. He didn't touch me, but the proximity made the fine hairs on my arms stand up.

"Tell me, Cecilia," he murmured, lowering his voice just enough so that it felt like a private conversation between us, despite Daddy being inches away. "Do you always hide behind your father like this? Or are you just shy?"

I swallowed hard, my throat feeling dry. "I'm not hiding," I lied weakly, though I knew I was. "I just... I don't know many people here."

"Perhaps you need someone to introduce you to the world properly," james said, his tone dropping into something darker, more commanding. "Someone who knows exactly how to handle someone as precious as you."

I froze mid bite, the rich flavor of the steak suddenly feeling heavy and foreign in my mouth. His words 'handle someone as precious as you' echoed in my head like a heartbeat. It wasn't what people usually said to me. People usually called me 'sweetheart' or 'princess' in that high pitched, patronizing tone. But james... his voice sounded different. It sounded like he meant something else entirely.

I swallowed hard, my throat working convulsively. "I... I think I'm doing okay, thank you," I whispered, forcing myself to set my fork down properly. I tried to regain some dignity by smoothing out my skirt, but my hands were betraying me, trembling against the expensive fabric.

"Are you now?" james asked. He didn't back off. Instead, he leaned in further, his broad shoulders blocking out the warm glow of the chandelier behind him. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the restaurant disappeared, leaving only him and me in this strange, charged bubble. "Because from where I'm sitting, you look like you're holding your breath."

I gasped audibly, my eyes widening. "I'm not," I lied, my voice cracking slightly. I immediately looked toward Daddy, hoping he'd intervene or change the subject, but he was deep in conversation with the waiter about the wine pairing, completely oblivious to the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

I turned back to james, feeling a surge of something between fear and fascination. "Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it. My shyness usually kept me quiet, but there was something about the way he stared so intense, so hungry that made me want to confront it.

james didn't flinch. A slow, predatory smirk spread across his thin lips. He picked up his wine glass, swirling the dark liquid slowly, watching it coat the crystal. "Like what, Cecilia?"

"Like... like you're hungry," I said, my voice barely audible. "But not for the food."

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, a sound that felt like velvet rubbing against my skin. "You're sharper than you look, little one. Most people are too distracted by the price tags on your clothes to notice what's actually happening." He took a deliberate sip of the wine, his blue eyes never leaving mine over the rim of the glass. "But you... you're paying attention, aren't you?"

I couldn't deny it. I was hyper aware of everything about him: the way his expensive suit strained against his biceps when he moved, the way his large, veined hands moved with such controlled grace, and the way the candlelight played off his graying temples. "I try to be observant," I managed to say, trying to sound more confident than I felt. I reached for my water glass again, needing something to occupy my hands.

As I lifted the glass to my lips, james's hand suddenly moved. It was fast, almost imperceptible, but he reached across the small gap between us. His fingertips grazed the back of my wrist just a fleeting, feather light touch but it felt like an electric shock racing up my arm. I nearly dropped the glass, my breath catching in my throat.

"Careful, sweet girl," he murmured, using that low, commanding tone again. "We wouldn't want you spilling anything on that pretty dress. It would be such a shame to ruin something so perfect."

My heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. "Thank you, Mr. Bennett," I stammered, my face feeling like it was on fire. I wanted to pull away, to retreat back into the safety of Daddy's shadow, but at the same time, I found myself leaning infinitesimally closer to where his fingers had just been.

I was just starting to regain some composure when Daddy suddenly cleared his throat, his expression shifting from relaxed to something more serious and troubled. He set his wine glass down with a heavy thud that made me jump.

"james, I have some news that's been weighing on me all evening," Daddy started, rubbing his temple. "I just got off the phone with the London office. The merger they're working on... it's more complicated than we thought. I have to fly out tomorrow morning, and I'll likely be gone for at least two weeks."

My heart sank. "Two weeks? But Daddy, you promised we'd go to that new art gallery this weekend!" I felt the familiar sting of disappointment in my throat. I hated being alone in that big house; it felt too empty and quiet without him.

"I know, princess, I know. I'm so sorry," he said, reaching over to squeeze my hand. "I tried to postpone it, but I can't. And the worst part is... I can't bring you with me. It's a high security corporate retreat, not somewhere for a young lady to stay."

I pouted, feeling like the world was conspiring against me. "Then what am I supposed to do? I can't stay home alone for two weeks, Daddy. What if something happens?"

Daddy looked toward james, his eyes full of genuine concern and trust. "That's exactly what I've been thinking about. james, you wouldn't mind, would you? I can't bear the thought of her being alone while I'm halfway across the world."

I looked up at james, expecting him to make some excuse about being too busy with his own work. Instead, I saw his blue eyes darken, something flickered in them that I didn't understand something possessive and intense. He set his wine glass down slowly, his movements deliberate.

"Of course I'd mind, old friend," james said, his voice smooth as silk. "It would be my honor to look after her. I have plenty of space at my estate, and I'd feel much better knowing she's under my roof rather than alone in that big house."

"Really?" I asked, blinking rapidly. "You'd let me stay with you?" The thought of staying with someone so... imposing was terrifying, but the alternative sitting alone in my bedroom for fourteen days sounded even worse.

"It's settled then," Daddy said, looking visibly relieved. "james will drive you home tomorrow after you finish your collage. He'll make sure you're fed and safe. I'll call you every night, I promise."

I nodded obediently, though my stomach was doing nervous somersaults. "Okay, Daddy. If you think it's best."

I turned to james, feeling incredibly small under his scrutiny. "Thank you, Mr. Bennett. I'll try not to be any trouble."

"Trouble?" james repeated, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. He leaned forward again, those piercing eyes locking onto mine. "I doubt you could be trouble if you tried, Cecilia. But don't worry. I'll take very good care of you. You'll have everything you need."

I smiled shyly, feeling a strange sense of gratitude. I didn't understand why his words made my skin prickle, or why his 'taking care' of me sounded so different from how Daddy did it. I just thought he was being a kind friend to my father. I had no idea that behind that composed, professional exterior, he was already imagining exactly how he would spend every second of those two weeks with me alone in his house.

After dinner, the restaurant felt even more overwhelming than before. The warm glow of the lights seemed too bright, and the noise of the other patrons felt like it was pressing in on me. Daddy stood up, smoothing out his suit jacket, looking exhausted but relieved that his plans for my safety were settled.

"Well, james, thank you again for this. It means the world to me," Daddy said, standing up to extend his hand for the customary farewell handshake.

"Always, my friend. Anything for family," james replied, his voice steady and composed as he shook Daddy's hand. The transaction was perfectly normal the kind of polite gesture I had seen a thousand times before.

I stood up beside Daddy, smoothing down my Chanel dress one last time. My legs felt a little wobbly. "Goodnight, Mr. Bennett," I whispered, looking down at my heels. I expected him to offer a polite nod or perhaps a handshake like he did with Daddy, but instead, I felt the air shift as he stepped closer to me.

Before I could react, james reached out. His large, warm hand wrapped gently around mine. "Goodnight, Cecilia," he murmured. Instead of shaking my hand, he lifted it slowly. I watched, frozen with curiosity, as he bowed his head. His lips touched the back of my hand in a soft, lingering kiss. It was so gentlemanly, so chivalrous exactly what Daddy always said a proper man should be.

"That was very sweet of you," I said breathlessly, a small smile tugging at my lips. I felt a flush of heat creeping up my neck. For a second, I thought he was just being a perfect gentleman.

But then, the pressure changed. He didn't pull away. His grip on my wrist tightened unexpectedly, his thumb pressing into the delicate skin there. My breath hitched in my throat as he lifted my hand higher, bringing my knuckles closer to his mouth. His blue eyes flickered up to mine, dark and unreadable, before he suddenly pressed his teeth against my knuckle.

"Ah !" I gasped, my body jerking involuntarily. It wasn't a kiss anymore. He bit down, not hard enough to draw blood, but firm enough to sting and leave a throbbing pressure behind. It was sharp and sudden, sending a jolt of pure electricity straight down to my stomach. "Mr. Bennett? That... that hurt."

I tried to pull my hand back, but his grip was like iron. He released the bite slowly, his tongue darting out to wet the spot where his teeth had just been. The sensation made my knees weaken. "Forgive me, sweet girl," he said, his voice dropping to that dangerous, husky register that made my heart race. "I simply couldn't resist."

I stared at him, my mouth hanging open slightly, my heart hammering against my ribs like it wanted to escape. "I... I don't understand," I stammered, my face burning bright crimson. That wasn't what gentlemen did. That wasn't what nice people did. But why didn't I feel angry? Why did my stomach feel like it was full of fluttering butterflies?

"Come on, princess, let's get you home so you can get some rest for tomorrow," Daddy said, completely oblivious to what had just happened. He placed an arm around my shoulder, guiding me toward the exit. "james will pick you up tomorrow afternoon. We'll talk more later."

"Yes, Daddy," I managed to say, my voice small and shaky. I turned to give james one last glance before we walked out of the restaurant. He was still standing there, tall and imposing, watching us leave with a calm, satisfied expression. I didn't notice the way his gaze lingered on my lips, or how he stayed perfectly still until we disappeared through the doors, already planning his next move.

***

Kiss or...🫢