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Dixie

I can't believe I agreed to this; why the fuck did I say yes? It wasn't even like I had much of a choice to begin with. Even if I said no, he would still come to get me. But, don't I want this or should I said, I shouldn't want this. My mind is definitely teasing and playing games with me.

I needed a stunning dress, preferably red, because I look hot in red. I wanted to look flawless. I've never attempted to prove myself to a man since I didn't care, but it's different with him. I want to always appear put-together, but he also doesn't pass judgment on me and he accepts me for who I am.

Thinking about this one night, gave me a world of headaches. My mind was racing at approximately 1000 miles per second, and I needed to slow down and take a deep breath before it burst.

Slowing down was beneficial, but it also gave a world of insecurities and misery to my thoughts. It's always a mental battle for me since I feel compelled to conform to everyone's expectations. My weakest life component was the persistent belief that you have to be flawless or validated. My thoughts overwhelm me so fucking much that it's exhausting, but now is not the time to be an insecure bitch and obsess about it. I need to get ready for dinner.

That day, about 4:00 p.m., I left the cafe and went to La Chic Boutique to grab a dress and some undergarments, just in case. The store was extremely pricy, but I was still on my father's credit card, so I was able to get away with it. Marc wouldn't care that much, I'm his princess...sorry Char.

As soon as I came into the store, the gorgeous dresses drew my attention. There were a variety of styles and modifications. From ball gowns to church dresses to what appeared to be hooker dresses....there was something for everyone. The majority of the people in here seemed quite wealthy, as evidenced by their attire and demeanor. I didn't belong there, but I didn't have to; all I needed was a dress.

"Hello, do you need help?" the sweet salesperson asked.

"Sure," I said bluntly, "I'm looking for a red dress," and now you may kill me. I was so lacking in the social skills department that it was becoming humiliating.

"What's the occasion?"

"Yes, I'm going to dinner with my um-going to dinner with someone and I bet it's a fancy place too," I nervously giggled and smiled at Claire.

Who was he to me? In normal circumstances, I would never go out with someone I didn't know or someone who didn't have labels, but now I'm going out with my teacher, and it's going to be soooo much fun. At least I had good sense of humour.

Yes, I looked hot. This was the goal and I'm glad I reached it.

Before telling the lady I was buying the dress, I took a few moments to admire myself in it. She led me to the lingerie aisle when I indicated that I wanted underwear, where my gaze fell on the beautiful black item.

I went to the cashier to pay for the items and the price almost sent me into shock. There's no way I just spent two thousand dollars on two items. Wow.

I looked at the clock and almost panicked when I realized it wasn't 5:00 p.m.; I'd been in the store for over 45 minutes. With all of this happening, I left and went down the street. Here goes nothing.

I shaved, moisturized my skin, and put on my bathrobe after getting home and taking a long shower in various bath smells. Time was against me, and if I knew anything, it was this man didn't like to wait and my body can only handle so much punishment.

I started applying my makeup before getting dressed. I chose a mild makeup glam since I didn't want to look too plain but also didn't want to scare him away with a face full of products. I knew he'd most likely gone on a few dates before, so I had to attempt to make this one better than the others. I sat and patted my face, making certain to blend in every product I applied.

After makeup was hair. I pulled out my curling iron and began creating deep curls in the ends of my hair. My hair started growing back after I cut it for Charli's graduation a few months ago, but the length didn't last long, it's already at my shoulders.

Finally, I put on my undergarments, dress, and black stilettos. I felt a lot of power with this dress, and I wasn't complaining. The confidence boost before going out was needed. A simple life necessity. I spritzed myself with Coco Chanel body mist, retouched my roots, and went downstairs to wait for Noah.

Then suddenly it hit me. I've never told him my address. He's never taken me home. How was the fuck was he going to pick me up? Shit.

My mother messaged me earlier that she was working late, so now was the ideal time to go and avoid having to explain my predicament to her over the phone; granted, she is rather nosy when it comes to my personal life. She wants to see me happy, dating, and all that, but all I want to do is keep vibing.

After ten minutes of waiting and worrying, I received a text stating that he was outside, and sorrow set in. I was afraid, not only of seeing him, but also of knowing that one date would lead to so much more, on my end at least, but I promised myself that if things became too intense, I would end it.

Yeah, like fucking your teavher while he was on a zoom call wasn't extreme enough.

I stepped out the door, shaking off that notion, and saw him standing with vanilla roses—how did he know that was my favorite? He's more romantic than he realizes. It was very dangerous to be here in the open as any student could pass and see us but I didn't care. Neither did he.

"Goodnight, Ms. D'Amelio, you look absolutely stunning," he murmured, his eyes exploring my entire body.

I mocked him, "You don't look half terrible yourself, Sir."

Who am I kidding, he's insanely attractive. The fit of his suit, as well as how robust and well-groomed he appeared. I was all set to fuck him right now.

"Shut up you whore," my thoughts told me.

I sat in the passenger seat of his car when he walked me there. A new aspect of myself was about to emerge, and I wasn't sure I could handle it.

"So, where are we going?" I asked. As I became more eager, my nerves began to jitter. This was date was actually happening. And it was too late for me to run off.

"You'll have to wait and see," he said, carefully avoiding stuttering. It's frightening how quickly his moods shift.

"I'm not a huge fan of surprises, but whatever," I remarked, my eyes rolled and a sour tone in my voice.

He clenched his teeth and tightened his hold on the steering wheel, "I'll have to fuck that attitude out of you soon enough."

My jaw dropped open. What did he just say? I responded with a stutter, and the remainder of the car ride to the restaurant was silent; I didn't dare to say anything else.

He would put his hands on my thighs, sometimes even further up to my sex, smirk, and shift his hand after eliciting a reaction from me. I needed him to be inside of me. This idea was however short-lived as we got to the location, and the beauty of it drew my attention right away. I noticed a large, bold neon sign that read "Per Se," which I assume was the restaurant's name.

We entered the restaurant through the back door and were escorted to a private corner by the waiter. This was enigmatic. The setting was in an open garden environment with lights and flowers, but the lights were lowered, and I was mesmerized by the scene. I'd have like to enter through the front door, but when you're fucking your professor, discretion is required.

He said naively, "Tell me a little about you, Ms. D'Amelio." If only he was as innocent as his words.

"Please call me Dixie, and yes, I guess. I'm 22 years old and a college student, but you already knew that.... My parents live about two hours away, and I have a younger sister. My sister is a well-known figure on social media. In any case, there's not much to say about myself."

I didn't tell him the whole truth, but I also didn't give him all the gory details. There are parts of myself, my family, and my pasts that I'd rather forget or not live with. I deal with them on a daily basis, but just now all I wanted to do was forget about them. He stopped asking questions and proceeded to get the server to take our order, so I assumed he understood I was becoming uncomfortable. If looks could kill, I'd be dead right now.

"What can I get for you, Noah?" She said seductively, or at least tried to put it that way.

"It's Mr. Beck to you, and takes the lady's order first," he said. She turned her face, rolling her eyes at me.

I looked over the menu and noticed that the cheapest item was drinks, which were $300 and up. What the hell?

"I'll have the prime rib of Elysian Fields farm lamb with a side of mashed potatoes," I said, despite the fact that it wasn't exactly inexpensive.

He grinned as he looked at me and then proceeded to place his order.

"You know I'm the one footing the bill, so you didn't have to order the cheapest item on the menu."

I didn't think he'd notice, so let's get back to pivoting.

"Well, I've already ordered it, there's nothing much you can do about it; but, tell me about yourself."

"I'm a wealthy and influential man. I teach sometimes and work other times. I give presentations, manage businesses, and work with people from all over the world. My parents live about a half-hour away," he explained.

"Thank you for telling me, so this place is lovely," I said. I was stumped as to how to carry on the conversation. I'm terrible at socializing.

"It's okay; I'm in the process of purchasing it," he answered emphatically. He never missed a chance to mention his wealth.

"That's a great investment," I said, adding that "you could certainly put a club here as well to cater to a wider and more diversified population." He was shocked by how good my reasoning was. I had to speak a bit more developed because he's so damn smart and I couldn't risk sounding dumb.

"That's a great concept," he chuckled, "you surprise me every day." "In Canada, my bestfriend, Bryce, did something similar."

"That's smart."

"How was the exam for you?"

"Great. And just because I think it's great doesn't mean you should grade me a harder than the rest of the class, but I believe I did well. I'm sure I didn't get a perfect score, but I believe I got an A or a B+."

He simply glanced at me and grinned in response. Either he already knew my grade or he's messing with my head. One of the great enigmas of life was trying to figure out this man.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

We continued to converse, looking for small talk. We had just finished our meal, and I decided to start taunting him. It was a big risk, but I walked over and sat on his lap. He's oddly comfortable and it's oddly comforting to be here. I could get use to this.

His eyes widened, as if he was shocked by what he was seeing. "What are you doing?" he ask, his brows furrowed.

"Nothing, sir, just hang on," I said and got up, "let me to get back to my seat."

He grabbed my hips and dragged me back down before I could go. "I didn't say you should get up," he whispered as he moved his hand from my knee to my thigh.

"It's a very easy access angel," he purred, "I can simply run my hands here and end up to where you're craving me most." I released soft moans and whimpers in between this.

As he spoke, I felt my area get very wet, and my body began to shake at his touch. The more I reacted, the further his hands traveled till they came to rest on the surface of my underwear. I whispered something into his ears. As he was ready to put his fingers in my mouth, we were interrupted by that fucking whore of a server who was carrying the bill. We both cleared our throats, straightened up, and walked out of the building.