"Are we really going on a date?" I finally asked when we'd left his apartment and gotten inside his car. I was a curious person by nature, and these guys were torturing that side of me every time I was with them. They always left me wondering what would happen. Still, I couldn't complain either. It was like an adventure every time I was with them, not knowing what would happen next–not knowing what they would do to me next. The thrill of it made my skin buzz with excitement.

"Yes." He smiled.

"Like a real date?" I pushed.

"Yes, like a real date. I mean...if you want it to be? I know we haven't really talked about it or agreed to anything, so if it's not okay, we can simply be a dominant and his submissive going out to have dinner."

Was he flustered? I looked at him. Yes, he was definitely flustered. I'd seen Mateo like this once, but never Callan. It was cute, which was something I had never thought I would use to describe Callan.

"I want it to be a date," I admitted, all the while my heart was soaring. Did this mean he wanted to date me too? Otherwise, he'd simply said we were going out to have dinner, right?

The smile he gave me when I agreed was dazzling, making me smile in return.

We listened to jazz music as we drove through the city. It wasn't something I would've guessed he listened to. His hand tapped the steering wheel with the beat of the music.

"You listen to jazz?" I asked, wanting to get to know him better. For how much time we'd spent together, there was still much I didn't know about him.

"Hm?" he hummed, and I repeated my question.

"Oh, yeah, I do. My grandfather is a musician. He plays the trumpet, and I grew up listening to his band when they practiced," he answered warmly, probably remembering.

I tried to envision him as a little kid sitting in silence listening to his grandpa and his band play. It painted a sweet picture.

"Were they any good?"

"Maybe not the best out there. It wasn't like they had concerts or anything, but to my ears, they were amazing."

We chatted for a bit before I grew quiet. My palms were clammy, and my stomach tightened with butterflies swarming inside. I hadn't thought I would be this nervous for our night, but here I was, nerves shot through the roof.

This would be my first ever date; I hadn't been on one before. How strange wasn't that? At the age of twenty-two, I hadn't experienced what it was like to go out with someone. It was hard not to feel a bit self-conscious about the fact that maybe nobody was interested enough in me to ask me out. Though I could see that some of it might have something to do with me being shy–slash having social anxiety–and therefore, I never gave off the "approachable" vibe.

After driving for about thirty minutes, we arrived at a harbor, and I looked at him, confused. "What are we doing here?"

"We're here for our date, of course," he winked, basically giving me a non-answer.

He parked the car close to the harbor, and in front of us, I saw what I could only guess was the east river. What stole my attention weren't the river in itself but the many yachts docked here. They were magnificent and ranging from huge to massively huge beasts of boats.

Speechless, I could only accept Callan's hand when he'd gotten out of the car and opened my door. He led me down the dock, and I followed only because of his hand on my back, guiding me–my mind couldn't comprehend what was happening.

I'd known the guys were rich–Gideon owned a manor, for crying out loud–but it still stumped me every time I saw proof of their wealth. It was such a world away from my ordinary life; it wasn't even funny.

We stopped in front of one of those massive yachts. It was parked sideways. "Eloise" was written in gold on the side of the boat–if I could even call it a boat.

"This yours?" I asked, my eyes round as I gazed at it.

"It is." He nodded, taking in my reaction while I took in the boat. I was still trying to comprehend the fact that we were living completely different lives. We were literally worlds apart, and yet...we found each other against all odds.

Huh, a millionaire and a broke-ish college student. Books were written about people like us. That was a weird thought, but I kind of liked it; I liked feeling like I was the main character after years of being a side character in my own life.

"Come, let's get on board." Callan helped me on the deck and led me up two flights of stairs. "We can stay inside for a while. It gets quite chilly while we drive."

I gasped as he opened the door and revealed an entire living room with an enormous comfy-looking couch taking up a great deal of the space. I walked to it and sat down, taking in every detail of the room. The walls were brown oak, which I knew Callan was fond of, with big windows giving the place a more open feel to it. Aside from the brown oak, light beige was used to brighten up the room–beige couch and chairs, roof, and carpet. It looked...fancy and expensive, but also pretty.

Further in the room, I could see a dining room in the same color scheme. The dinner table had seats for eight people, though I didn't know if Callan knew enough people to fill them all. God, did I know him at all? I knew who he was as a person and that I could trust him with my body. Still, I didn't know about his family, friends, or anything else about his life outside of our relationship.

"This is quite something," I commented.

Callan took place beside me, and I squealed as he lifted me onto his lap. He brushed my hair over one shoulder, leaving my neck bare. "I got this from my father," he said against my skin, just below my ear.

I froze. Callan had never mentioned his parents before, not once. "Your father?"

"Yeah, I didn't have the best relationship with him, but he tried to fix it in the end. It's a long story, sweetheart. I don't want to bore you with the details."

Turning around, I cupped his cheek in my hand. "You would never bore me, Callan. I want to get to know you properly. I want to know about those times you listened to your grandfather play with his band and how your childhood was. I want to know who you are, not just as my dominant, but as a person." I leaned in to give him a brief kiss. "Let me get to know you," I whispered against his lips.

He pulled back to look me in my eyes. His glowed with an emotion that had warmth spread across my chest. "Okay," he sighed. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know when we sit down for dinner."

With a happy smile, I leaned in and kissed him again. This one wasn't brief, and he quickly took control of it, making my toes curl with delight.

In his arms, I was beyond content.

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