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He shrugged.
“Woke up one day, saw the shithole I was living in, and I was so embarrassed that I decided something had to change. I cleaned up my act as the saying goes. Now…I don’t mind getting a little crazy once and a while, but most of the time I live a pretty quiet, ordinary life.” He grinned. “Well…not exactly ordinary. I’d never want to be that.”
I sighed. “And me…I’ve been living squeaky clean all my life, wishing I’d done something really crazy.”
“Scared you’ll get hurt? Do something wrong?”
I nodded.
“There’s nothing wrong with a little hurt—makes you know you’re alive. Like the other night on the stairs.”
I hadn’t thought about it that way. “Well, I was certainly, painfully alive that night.”
“You’ve got to take some chances, Alex, do the unexpected.”
“Right.” I blushed again,
and we were quiet for a time.
“Would you like some spaghetti?” I finally broke the silence. “I’m kind of hungry.”
“Giuseppe’s?” he suggested.
“No. I have some homemade sauce in the fridge. There’s plenty.” I promptly rose and busied myself, pulling cartons out of the refrigerator, starting the pasta water. He joined, helping himself to the contents of my fridge, pulling out salad items, rummaging through my cabinets for a bowl and throwing together a salad, done before the pasta water was ready. Having a man in my kitchen was awkward and pleasant and fun and frightening.
As we ate, the conversation was light and less threatening than it had earlier been. His charm, his good looks, the easy way about him had me wanting him more than ever.
By the time we cleared the table, I could taste the desire on my lips and feel the vibration of it all the way to my toes. As I was filling the sink, he dropped plates into the soapy water. I felt his breath against my neck, and a shiver of want when his body grazed against mine. And when he placed his hands on my waist and gently kissed the back of my neck, the sudden rush of energy between us made me gasp. Will dried the dishes looking at me as if he had plans in mind – I could almost hear the gears grinding in his head. I smiled and looked away, still feeling self-conscious and awkward in the presence of the man. When the last dish was neatly tucked into the cabinet above, he pulled me in close to him. I shuddered but I didn’t push him away.
He kissed me lightly – flirty, erotic kisses that barely brushed my lips. Soon they were wet and sensuous, his mouth opened and his tongue began to dance around mine. The embrace became more passionate with our bodies pressed together. He felt for my breasts beneath the fabric. This his kisses moved down my throat, and my body lit up everywhere his lips met my skin, and his hands touched. His fingers deftly worked the buttons on my blouse until the two sides of it dropped away. He stepped back and pushed it off my shoulders, while I trembled, nervous and afraid.
“Will, please,” I said in gentle protest.
He shook his head, and laid his finger against my lips. “Shussssh. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
He unfastened the closure of my lacy bra and let the two soft mounds free. I thought I’d orgasm on the spot as his smoldering eyes surveyed my chest. Without even looking down, I could feel my nipples tightened into hard knots under the intense gaze. Then with feverish insistence, he dove into my torso, kissing, biting, sucking my nipples, making me believe he’d devour me in sexual madness. I moaned with pleasure while my fevered brain tried to grasp what was happening.
“Will, please!”
He pinched a nipple hard enough to hurt, and yet that hurt only left me more aroused, more wanting and needy and begging for more. “Let go, Alex,” he whispered as he continued the foreplay. Suddenly, something came over me. I reached for him with my fingers digging into his t-shirt, clutching it, pulling it away, feeling obsessed with having him naked. Only in my fantasies had I ever behaved like this. I wanted to run my hands along his smooth skin and feel his firm muscles, his penis throbbing against my hand. When our bodies came together again, I felt his naked skin against mine and I thought my body would explode.
I felt myself pulling back as if it were The Tropics or The Red Rose all over again. “Oh, dear God, this is too going too fast!”
“No, Alex, it’s not too fast,” he said gently, firmly. “Stop fighting what you want.”
“But—”
“But nothing. This is the way you want to be taken so just let go and let it happen.”
Something in his firm command made my resistance wilt.
“You want this as much as I do,” he purred as he nibbled on my ear. Then he grabbed my hair in his fist and pulled back, baring my throat again, kissing, biting, sucking my skin so hard I thought he’d drain my blood. My fear seemed to fall away and I swooned against him, wanting more.
I knew we’d passed the point of no return and stopping was no longer an option.
There was nothing subtle or romantic about our grasping hands or heated bodies. We’d gone far beyond my fears, where there was no more panic, no resistance, no wishing I was elsewhere, no amount of fright big enough to conquer my desire. There was no attempt to think about anything – and that was the best gift of all.
I felt the first hot throb of his hard cock against my thigh and I thought I might come right then. Then he stepped back, took my face in his hands and kissed me hard. The force of that kiss seemed to penetrate me to the bone.
