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I’m well aware that this could be a complete fucking disaster.
I stare at my open suitcase on my bed, and I run through what I will need: underwear, dresses, swimsuit, shoes, hat, sweater, jeans… umm, what else?
Lingerie.
My stomach rolls. Lingerie is code for sex.
Fuck, I really can’t imagine having sex with him. We are so familiar with each other, it seems foreign. I get a vision of his beautiful body, and my insides clench. I’ve looked at Nathan’s body so many times over the years and wondered what it could do. I guess I’m about to find out.
Of course, that’s if it works with mine…. gah, why do I keep worrying about that?
I begin to fold my clothes at double pace to try and take my mind off of worrying.
Deep down, I know why I’m nervous. It’s because this means something. I really want it to work between us. The more I’ve thought about it, the more it makes sense, and the more excited I become.
I love Nathan. He knows me better than anyone else and he still wants me. He’s the perfect male. Handsome, smart, with a beautiful body, but it’s his heart I adore. He cares for me like nobody else.
I glance at the clock and see it’s 9:00 p.m. He worked late and then went home to pack his suitcase. He’s going to be here soon. I better take a shower.
Half an hour later, I’m showered and wearing my standard pajamas of a white camisole with spaghetti straps. But tonight, I decide to wear my pink silk boxer shorts. It seems weird wearing just panties around him now. He’s seen it before.
Stop it.
I hear the key in the door, and my stomach drops. I close my eyes…
Here we go.
He comes into view and gives me a slow, sexy smile. “Hi, there.”
My heart somersaults in my chest, and I twist my fingers nervously in front of me. “Hi.”
He wheels his suitcase in and puts it up against the wall. He opens it and pulls out a plastic bag, and then his attention comes to me. “I bought you something.”
“You did?”
He produces a bottle of champagne and a box of my favorite chocolates. “I thought that, since it’s our first date, we should probably celebrate.” He shrugs as if nervous too.
My heart swells. “It’s our first date?”
His eyes hold mine. “It is.” He bends, and his lips take mine to softly kiss me, and my knees nearly buckle from beneath me.
His lips are big, wet, and… oh hell.
I begin to throb between my legs.
“Do you want some champagne?” he murmurs against my lips.
“Yes, please.” I whisper. I run my fingers through my hair, embarrassed by my body’s physical reaction to him. I’m like putty in his hands.
Good God, woman, play it fucking cool, can you?
He takes my hand and leads me into the kitchen. He sits me up on the counter, then he turns and pours our drinks and passes one to me as he stands between my parted legs.
This is nothing new. We always stand like this. But tonight it seems so sexual.
Maybe I’ve been missing cues all along? Or maybe his kiss just has me feeling drunk already?
He clinks his glass with mine and takes a sip. His hand slides up my thigh as his dark eyes hold mine. “What do you want to do tonight?”
