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The darkness also helped in keeping my affectionately dubbed “dad bod” a little more concealed. I wasn’t going to lie—plus there was zero way I could lie—but I didn’t really go to the gym that often. I was blessed with good genes and had stayed relatively fit throughout most of my life with minimum amount of effort. Age, though, had different plans. It was taking a little more work and a little more attention to what I ate so that I didn’t balloon, but I also wasn’t walking around with a washboard six-pack.
Was Jamison used to that kind of body? Did he think he was getting that with me? And would the disappointment drive him away like the other guy?
“Fuck, you’re so sexy.” His words struck as the truth. He wasn’t saying it just to say it. He was a few steps away from me. He openly admired my chest, my stomach, the obvious bulge in my slacks.
It burned away some of the self-consciousness. I grabbed my hard cock and stroked for him, seeing the embers light up in that expressive, stunning pair of eyes.
He was a catch. In the dim light, I could see Jamison didn’t have a six-pack either, and he certainly didn’t need one in the slightest. His body was smooth and lithe, his small nipples already hard, his chest bare of any hair—plenty of space for me to mark with my teeth.
Our lips collided together. Our bare chests finally pressed together. I had met this guy only hours earlier, and yet I felt like I’d been craving this skin-on-skin contact since I was born.
We moved through the dark of the living room, toward the couch. I guided us, moving while our tongues battled for space, for a taste.
At the couch, I was pushed backward. I fell onto the couch with an exhale of air. The light from outside gleamed on Jamison’s skin, making those sky-blue eyes pop even in the dark.
“So fucking sexy.”
He had said it almost to himself, but I heard it. I spread my legs open wider.
“Take those pants off, come over here, and sit on my lap.”
He didn’t waste much time. The zip of his jeans filled the room, followed by the rustle of pants falling down in a puddle at his ankles. The light-pink briefs he had on were already darkened where the head of his cock pushed against the fabric.
It was an absolutely tantalizing sight. Drove me wild, it did.
And yet my gaze still drifted up, toward the sky-blue orbs that changed the entire course of the night for me.
In a moment of equal clarity and insanity, I felt like those eyes had changed the course of more than this night alone.
It was a thought I quickly set aside. I focused on the drool-worthy body I was set to devour. No need to complicate the night with rubbish thoughts of “soul mate” and “destiny.” Tonight was meant to be as least complicated as possible. I didn’t even know this guy’s real name. He was set to leave the country, and so was I, never to cross paths again. That was how tonight would go, and I was fine with that. Completely and utterly fine with it.
I was fine with it, all right?
But if we miraculously bumped into each other at the supermarket back in Florida, then hey, I wouldn’t exactly complain.
4 Oliver Brightly
Oh Holy Mother, Cher. This man was beyond hot. This man was the type of man who made me think about every single insecurity I had and magnified it by a thousand. I simultaneously wanted to shrink from his steaming gaze and peacock for him, he made me that crazy. I didn’t even know how I was getting words out, much less jokes, which he had seemed to be eating up from the second we left the bar. I didn’t think I’d ever been with someone who laughed so hard at the smallest little things I said.
And hey, I wasn’t hating it, that was for sure.
What I was hating, though? My freaking anxiety, which had reared its nasty head back on that dark street, and which hadn’t really let go since then. I was comfortable around Beckham. Like really, really comfortable. And I felt really safe around him, too. It was one of the reasons why I felt okay going to his apartment once the lights had come on at the bar. Another reason was William having my location on that Find My Friends app. I told him that if he noticed any suspicious and sustained stops at any local ditches, then call the police stat.
But seeing that dark street, regardless of who knew our location, walking alongside someone I was having such an incredible time with… it brought me straight back to the darkest night of my life.
Beckham had been great in handling my sudden bout of fear. He didn’t even ask a question. He simply listened and readjusted our route, like the handsome British knight he was. Because this man had to be a gallant knight, saving princes and princesses from dragons and evil sorcerers. He had to be, just had to.
