Chapter Seven
Brendan
Shawn held onto me for dear life as we weaved in and out of the cars. His hands on me felt so good. If he moved them down just a little lower he'd feel how hard my erection was. At a stoplight, I looked behind me to gauge him but the tinted visor hid his expression. He definitely wasn't trying to run away though.
I was tempted to speed right past the restaurant and ride with him for the rest of the night. I wanted to feel his arms around me forever. I held the brake as I revved the engine of my 2011 Harley-Davidson Forty-Eight, waiting for the light. When it hit green, I released the break and tugged at the throttle. The motorcycle burst forward and Shawn screamed as he dug his fingers into my chest. I chuckled to myself as Shawn shrieked for his life. He'd be moaning my name soon enough.
We arrived at the restaurant that faced a busy street. I parked around the back at the valet. I helped Shawn. I unsnapped the chin strap and set my helmet in front of the bike. Shawn peeled the helmet from his head and she couldn't stop laughing.
“What is it?” I asked. Not the reaction I was expecting after riding a motorcycle for the first time.
Shawn laughed harder and his hair was a mess from the helmet. “That was the most fun I've had in my entire life.” Shawn had a an innocence that hadn't been tainted yet. My innocence was stolen from me when my brother died.
“I'm glad you liked it.” I handed the keys to the valet who looked just as excited as Shawn to ride a motorcycle.
Shawn looked up at the restaurant's sign. “San Giovanni's? Isn't this where all the celebrities go to eat?”
I nodded and led him inside. The restaurant was empty except for the maitre d' and a lone waiter. The place was exceptionally tiny for a restaurant. The entire place only sat around sixteen people. San Giovanni's specialized in ultra-expensive dining so they only needed to fill a few tables a night.
“Good evening, sir,” the maitre d' announced. I smiled and escorted Shawn as we followed him to our table. I pulled the chair out for Shawn and winked. His face lit up as he took his seat. The maitre d' bowed and left us.
“Where is everyone?” Shawn whispered across the table.
I unwrapped my white napkin, set the silverware down, and placed it across my lap. “They're closed.” Shawn looked confused so I elaborated. “We helped the owner out a while back with some fuckers that kept breaking their front window.”
He nodded with his mouth open. I didn't want to tell him too much—we killed the three guys and buried them out in the middle of the desert. Those details could be left secret.
The waiter arrived wearing a black and white outfit with a bow-tie. He handed us two long menus. “The chef is prepared to cook anything you desire.”
I left my menu closed on the table as I stared at Shawn. His eyes were big as he scanned all the items. Most of the menu was in Italian and he tried to mouth the difficult words. “Anything look good?” I asked.
Shawn looked back at me with a look of terror. “Well, I'm having a hard time figuring out what they serve here.”
I laughed and snatched the menu from him. “Do you like chicken?”
Shawn nodded and blushed. What I wouldn't do to make him blush like that all night.
I waved the waiter over and shot a wink to Shawn. “We'll both be getting the Chicken Vesuvio tonight.”
“Excellent choice, sir. Anything to drink?”
I'd kill to have a pint of beer but this place wasn't the type. “Surprise me with a nice bottle of red.”
“Of course.” The waiter bowed and left us.
“What's Vesuvio?” Shawn asked.
“It's a meat cooked in white wine served with potatoes and peas.”
“Sounds delicious. I don't think I've had a really authentic dish from Italy.”
I chuckled. “You'll have to try something else because this meal originated in Chicago.”
Shawn looked fascinated. “How do you know all this stuff? Are you Italian?”
“No, actually my parents are Scottish and Irish. I've just eaten here so much that I've picked up on a few things.”
Shawn fiddled around with the silverware on the table when the waiter came over. He placed two wine glasses in front of us and popped the cork. I stared into Shawn's eyes as he watched with wonder as the waiter expertly poured the wine.
I took a sip of wine and let the alcohol calm my nerves. Why was my body reacting this way to Shawn? He was just another man. Just another guy to bed and forget. But I'd never taken a guy on a “date” before. I didn't want to tell him that this was another first for me.
“I want to know more about you, Shawn. What made you want to dance?”
Shawn avoided eye contact. I probably shouldn't have brought up the subject. He was obviously ashamed of it. He opened up anyways.
“My parents didn't help me with college so I needed a way to find money. I was working two jobs and trying to make ends meet. When I didn't have enough to pay for my books, I got desperate. I started stripping and the money came flowing in. I quit my two jobs and now I actually have time to study. And I can pay for books.”
“You got to do whatever it takes,” I added.
Shawn smirked and I felt something graze my leg. He drank his wine as his foot ran up my ankle. Jolts of electricity zapped through my system. My pants tightened. I looked around the restaurant for a place to bend him over so I could fuck him fast and hard. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the pressing need in my pants.