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Chapter 13
Dean
Thisisacoolplace. Really cool.
It’s a slightly older crowd, my age, so no shrieking gaggles of barely legalkidsto grate on my nerves, and the vibe is sexy and laid-back but quite elegant. This would be a great place for—a date, funnily enough. Exactly what I’d pick if I’d known it existed.
I’m ten minutes early, so I take my time to scope out the place and gather my thoughts. I nurse a beer while I wait. This is a bit of a mixed bag for me. I’m grateful for the hard work and dedication Abbi has shown to me, but I want more.
I think through the dates and the women she has painstakingly tried to match me with. The first date didn’t even get off the ground, but that was my fault. Tanya the flight attendant - a beautiful woman, and interesting to boot. But the idea of her riding my cock, tits bouncing in my face does nothing but leave me cold. Sandra, who was well past the point of giving consent, no more turned me on than a hairbrush. Although a hairbrush could be fun, I suppose, paddling the flesh of a pert backside to a delightful shade of hot pink while its owner was bent over my kitchen island with her legs spread.
But Abbi—oh yeah. I’d do just about anything to see if the color of her nipples matches her lips, and how they’d taste. Did she like to be licked or fingered? I want to learn how many of my fingers she can take before she screams that she’s full. How many times I can bring her to the edge of an orgasm before she loses her cool and begs for release. Whether riding my face makes her squirt and drench the bedsheets.
I want it all. I want to be buried in her and see her come apart stuffed full of my cock. From above and below. I want her nails in my back, clawing me there. I want to come across her breasts, mark her, claim her.
I want her.
Not a last-minute date scraped together to appease my mother and hopefully fill the apparently gaping void by my side for my friend’s wedding. I’ve put that issue to bed, anyway.
I’ve barely stopped thinking about Abbi since the moment I clapped eyes on her in the café. I mean, how could I ever forget the sight of her lush tits ten seconds after we met? Or the way she felt in my arms in the alleyway while we hid from the drama on the street. I tried to show her how I felt, organizing that date that wasn’t a date out at the airfield, and we almost kissed again. I was so close to confessing my feelings for her, but then she brought it back to business, and here I am.
On a date with a random woman I just know I’m not going to care less about. What was her name again? Lola? Lalita? Luella?
Time ticks away as I sit ruminating over Abbi, wondering how I ever got to this point and how the hell I can get things right. The first thing I need to do is to cancel this date. Then I need to call Abbi and arrange to see her. How do we get over the hurdle of Match X? That’s another problem.
How would I even explain this to Abbi? My words are going to count this time in a way they never have before.
I go to fish my phone out of my pocket and realize I’ve left it at home. Luckily, I remembered my wallet.
I look around for a waiter to settle the bill, and that’s when I spot her.
Abbi.
Our eyes meet and she falters ten paces from me. I pull myself off the stool so quickly I almost take the damn table down, my eyes locked on her. My mouth is suddenly so dry I can’t swallow. Blood rushes in my ears as I take her in from head to toe. She’s fucking gorgeous in a sexy black dress that shows off all her curves with her hair tumbling down over one shoulder. She’s beautiful no matter what she wears, and tonight, made up and wrapped in dark silk, she’s utterly delectable.
But why is she here? Is there some problem with my date, and she’s left her own night out and some lucky guy to come here to tell me?
The idea of Abbi getting dressed up like this for another guy has my fists clenching. I didn’t know I had a touch of caveman in me, but now I surely do. Visions of her carefully applying makeup, selecting a dress, as well as whatever is under it, for some bastard, has my teeth grinding.
She’s mine.
My cock jumps as she steps toward me, and I’m hit with the urge to grab her and make it clear to everyone in the bar that she’s here for me. Maybe it’s a little further back in the evolutionary chain than caveman—this is pure lizard brain now.
Must mark territory.
I blink, and fortunately, that clears my momentary lapse in sanity. Dragging a hand through my hair, I plaster on a smile. Whatever is coming, I’ll somehow cope, even if all I want is to kiss her and for her to kiss me back. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything. My entire body is rippling with awareness, but my sixth sense is also my skin prickling with anxiety.
Why is she here? Does she feel the same?
Would she even want to start something with me? We haven’t exactly had the smoothest time together. I haven’t exactly covered myself in glory the last two weeks.
Can I convince her she was right about happily-ever-afters when I didn’t believe it myself and gave her such a hard time about it?
“Abbi?” I whisper as she reaches me, and I’m hit by her scent—sweet and tart, just like her.
“Dean.” She sighs. My name on her lips is right where it belongs as far as I’m concerned.
She tilts her head, running her eyes over my face, searching for something before she speaks.
