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And was she falling into the trap of believing that women who sleep around, who have casual sex, were somehow less than the ones who were more particular? That little feminist thread would have her head spinning for days.
“No one has to know,” Mr. X said simply, as if this answered everything.
“But what if I want to write about it?” she asked. And part of her did. This little drink date was bringing up all kinds of feelings in her: Was she wrong to assume casual sex just benefited men? Should she try to find out? Why did her gut tell her to lean forward right now and kiss this man she’d just met?
“Then, do. I promise to give you something worth writing about.” He was so confident, so sure. And part of her knew he was telling the truth. She couldn’t imagine sex with this man being anything other than amazing. She could almost feel the electricity zapping between them. He was so close now that if she leaned forward, even slightly, their lips would touch. She held eye contact, unable to break it, caught in a kind of trance. He inched forward and she felt in that instant, he was going to kiss her. Suddenly, she got cold feet. Was he going to kiss her right here at the bar? Was she ready for where that kiss might lead?
She pulled away, ever so slightly. He paused, studying her face. Then, he let her hand go and leaned back. He smiled at her, gently.
“I think I want...I don’t know...a real connection,” she admitted. This was true. She wanted the whole package: amazing sex and love, but what she wanted above all else was a true connection. Something that meant something. Could she get that in one night?
He nodded. “You’re not ready,” he declared as a statement of fact.
“I’m...” Was he right? She felt all sorts of hormones rushing through her body, nerves tingling along her arms and up the back of her legs. She wanted love, but would she take sex right now in this moment?
“It’s okay.” He squeezed her hand. “Nost isn’t for everybody.”
That almost sounded like a goodbye. Was he abandoning the chase?
“I make it a rule never to pressure women,” he said and shrugged, as he finished the last bit of his drink in his glass and signaled the bartender for his tab. “This is something you want or you don’t.”
But...wait. I haven’t decided. Not yet. Maybe I do want this. The inner admission shocked her.
He signed the check and tucked his credit card back into his expensive leather wallet. “Emma, you’re an amazing and beautiful woman and it’s been my pleasure sharing this time with you.” He took her hand and kissed it, lingering a little over it, his lips soft and gentle.
She still felt shock. Was he leaving? Was this it? But she didn’t want the night to end. She didn’t want him to walk out of her life and never come back. This connection between them, it had to be real, didn’t it? He had to feel it, too?
“Can I...call you?”
He slowly shook his head. “I think we want different things.”
Did they? All she knew in that moment was that she didn’t want him to leave.
He stood, showing again how tall he was as he towered over her, and then he leaned over and gently kissed her cheek. She felt the warmth of his soft lips pressed against her skin and her stomach tightened. Don’t go, she willed him. Don’t.
“Goodbye, Emma,” he whispered in her hair.
CHAPTER FIVE
EMMA SAT THERE stunned as she watched Mr. X turn away from her. “Wait,” she said, and snaked out and grabbed his arm. She felt the strong muscles of his biceps contract. Wow, they were thick. And strong. She wondered what they’d be like wrapped around her. He stopped, and turned.
“Yes?” The single word held a question, an unspoken dare.
“Maybe I am ready.” The words came out in a low whisper.
Mr. X leaned closer to her, putting his body between her and his bar stool. “Maybe?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe doesn’t sound very definite.”
She inhaled his spicy sweet scent, suddenly feeling light-headed. Still seated, she stared directly at his chest, his taut pecs outlined beneath this cotton shirt. She had to crane her neck to meet his gaze.
“I am. I am ready.”
“You sure? This has to be your idea, not mine. You have to want this.”
“I do. I do want this.” She had the strong urge to put her hands on his chest, feel the firm muscles there. His sensual mouth was so close to hers now that she tilted her head up and grabbed the front of his shirt. Before she realized fully what she was doing, she’d reached up and kissed his lips, ever so gently. The soft, gentle touch of her lips on his sent hormones buzzing through her brain. It was just a peck, but a sensual one, carrying the promise of more to come. Instantly, she felt herself grow hot and cold. He stood very still, as she pulled away once more, suddenly feeling like there were no other people at the bar.
