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“Pizza and wine? Now that’s my idea of a good date.”
Too often, men thought big, splashy displays of wealth and privilege impressed a woman, but the truth was that sometimes a girl just wanted to veg out with her favorite junk food, a movie, and her favorite guy.
“The works?”
I nodded. “Cheese-stuffed crust with extra spicy peppers on the side?”
“What else?” It was our movie night ritual back in high school—all the ingredients on the menu with plenty of spice on the side. “I’ll be back soon.”
Thirty minutes later, I kicked off my shoes and curled up on Ryan’s sofa with a blanket over my lap, a plate of pizza on top while we watched a movie he let me pick.
“What the hell is an erotic thriller, anyway?” He squirmed uncomfortably and frowned at me, the black T-shirt he’d changed into clinging to his biceps and chest magnificently.
“It’s a thriller with erotic elements, duh. Aren’t you enjoying it?”
“It’s fine, just lots of sex and nudity.” He squirmed again and I laughed out loud.
“Horny. You’re horny, aren’t you?”
Ryan shoved half a slice of pizza into his mouth, an innocent expression on his face. “What? Me? No.”
I wanted to laugh at his fake innocence, but a moment of heat lodged between us. His blue eyes connected with my own and held me in his hypnotic stare; a thin thread of electricity went from him to me and back again. The air sizzled, the atmosphere was thick and heavy, the pizza and movie forgotten as lust took over.
And somehow, I went from the middle cushion of the sofa to straddling his lap, holding his face in my hands, staring at how beautiful he was for a long moment before my lips crashed down on his. Ryan tasted of pizza and wine, only better because he also tasted like him. His hands held me tight, gripping me so my center pressed down on his growing erection. “Oh!”
Ryan pulled back, a satisfied smile on his face. “You like that?”
“Maybe I do,” I answered with a laugh.
“You do.” His hands worked quickly, finding the zipper on my lace top and black skirt, opening the front clasp on my bra before he tore my panties right from my hips. “You fucking love it, sweetheart.”
He wasn’t wrong. I didn’t just love it, I couldn’t get enough of it. My hips rolled greedily, his every groan pushing me to hear that deep, masculine sound again and again. We came together quickly, our moves frantic and jerky, rushed and intense. It was everything, and my head spun as Ryan pumped his pleasure into me and begged me to do the same.
It was hot as hell and all-consuming. And then, as quickly as it began, it was over. We were naked and sated, panting hard on his sofa, limbs a tangled mess. “Apparently I do have sex on the first date.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Ryan growled and nipped my ear, then gave my ass a hard smack that sent erotic heat skittering all over my skin. “Besides, I had a dream last night of you riding me just how you did, with your gorgeous tits bouncing in my face, making my mouth water. I beat off to that image. Twice.”
His vulgar words should have turned me off or made me blush, anything but make my nipples bead and my core clench tight. “Yeah? I think I’d like to see that sometime.”
Ryan’s grip tightened on my hip and he growled. “How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when you say things like that?”
“Who said you were supposed to?” I didn’t want him to keep his hands off me. They were big and talented and just callused enough for me to know that it was a man touching my body.
Ryan growled and pulled me closer, turning me until I was on my back, staring up at his big blue eyes. “What the lady wants.”
Eventually we finished the pizza and the movie, between rounds of hot sex and body-quaking orgasms. By the time I crept home in the early morning hours, on wobbly legs, I fell asleep with a smile on my face.
That was exactly how a good first date was meant to end.
And it only took dating my best friend to realize it.
Ryan
My mind whirled with images of Persephone and our time together this weekend, instead of the open hood that should have taken up my complete attention. I couldn’t help it. Being with her was better than I had imagined it to be—hell, it was better than I even knew to imagine it could be between us. I should have known; we were compatible in just about everything else, why would bedroom activities be any different?
I was so distracted by my thoughts that the sound of the bell, of an incoming customer, barely registered until a vaguely familiar voice yanked me from thoughts of my woman. “Ryan, my man, tell me you have good news for me?”
