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When Cherry nods, I lean forward again, pressing my lips against hers just a little harder. I feel her lips part, and I take the invitation. I run my tongue over hers, slowly and gently. I cup the side of her face with one hand, and she tugs at the back of my head until I deepen the kiss, adding more pressure. I lace my fingers through her hair, groaning into her mouth.
Surprisingly, I feel her hands on my chest, deftly unbuttoning my shirt. She pushes it open, running her fingers over my skin, and it sends a shiver down my spine. I lean forward, pushing her onto her back. I trail kisses over her neck, feeling her pulse beneath my lips. She reaches back to take my hand and move it to her breast, encouraging me take this further. I press my hard cock up against her, and I feel her lift her hips to meet me.
It would be so, so easy. I can already see it happening. I can see myself plunging into her, holding her head back, running my tongue over her neck and breasts…
Stop it! Stop it, Nataniele, or you’re going to screw this up!
I pull back, breathless and throbbing. Cherry lies beneath me, also panting, and her pupils are dilated. I keep my eyes locked on hers, letting her see how much I want to do this. I swallow hard, lick my lips, and then press a gentle kiss on her mouth.
“Cherry,” I whisper. “I should really go.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I don’t want to,” I tell her. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before I open them again. “I should though. I should leave before this goes too far, too fast. I…I like you, Cherry. I don’t want to screw this up.”
“All right.” She’s clearly disappointed, and I consider that a win.
I push myself off of her and then help her up. She straightens her clothing, and I glance away from her as I quickly rebutton my shirt.
“Would you let me take you out again?” I ask. “I’m really happy with how tonight turned out, but I need to make up for how it started.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“I chose the restaurant.” I shrug. “Please, let me make up for it.”
“You don’t have anything to make up for,” Cherry insists. “However, I will agree to going out with you again. Does that work for you, Mr. Orso?”
“Yes, Miss Bay. It does.”
I manage to drive just a couple of blocks away before I have to pull over. My cock is about to break through the zipper, and as soon as I have the car in park, I take it in my hand.
I grip the bottom of the shaft, giving myself a squeeze before running my hand up and down, eyes closed, leaning back against the headrest. In my mind, I picture Cherry’s soft, warm lips wrapped around my cock. I see her glorious green eyes looking up at me adoringly as she runs her tongue over me, takes me in her mouth, and sucks.
“Oh, fuck! Cherry!” I grunt, groan, and make a mess all over my trousers.
I really don’t give a shit. I breathe heavily for a minute before grabbing some napkins from the glove box and cleaning myself up a bit. With a long sigh, I sit for a moment, still parked on the side of the street, and just think. In my head, I play every aspect of the evening over and over again. I shake my head, trying to understand what I’m feeling. Eventually, I pull the car back onto the deserted street.
Once I have the car back in the garage at home, I continue to stay right where I am, fighting the urge to take my cock out again or maybe even turn around and go back to her.
What is happening to me? This isn’t the plan at all. The plan is to get her to fall for me—utterly and completely—not the other way around, but all I can think about is how much I want to return to that cramped little apartment to be with her.
“You’re just horny,” I mumble to myself. “It’s been too long.”
It has been a long time. With everything else happening over the last year, bedding a woman just hasn’t been in the forefront of my mind. Wanting release that doesn’t involve my hand is the reason I want to go back to her. She wanted me—I could see it in her eyes—and giving into that feeling was extremely te
mpting.
I pull out my phone and hover over the messaging app. I shouldn’t do this. The idea was to leave her wanting, not contact her so soon after we parted ways. I’ll sound too eager—too desperate—and that’s not the impression I want to give.
Apparently, I can’t help myself.
Chapter 13—Infatuation
I watch Nate through the apartment window as he drives off in the most ridiculous car I have ever seen in my life and wish I had pressed him to stay longer. Then again, I don’t know what possessed me to ask him to come back here in the first place.
“To calm his ass down,” I mutter to myself.
Granted, dinner at the restaurant had been a complete disaster, but he was so angry! I knew he was trying to hide it, but it was clear he was about to lose his cool. I didn’t really mind the whole slow service issue—I’ve worked as a server, and I know what it’s like to be super busy—and the busboy just tripped, which wasn’t his fault. I was maybe a bit annoyed, but Nate was downright furious.
