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That familiar shiver that’s been haunting me all day returns. He’s got me all worked up, and we haven’t even met yet. How am I supposed to deny a man who pushes all my feel-good buttons without even being in the same room? My resolve is already waffling, and knowing I won’t be able to hold out much longer, I give in.
Okayis my simple reply.
:D
We set a date for the following evening after he gets off work. So I have all night and all day to sit around and think about it. Great. My nerves should be well and truly shot by then.
You’d better not sell me into human trafficking, I tell him.
LOL I promise. You’re safe with me.
Yeah, that’s what all traffickers say, I’m sure. I tell Alejandro goodnight. He tells mebuenos noches. Then he demands another picture before I go. I groan internally, because not only has he already requested several, but I’ve already removed my makeup. Yet I find that I can’t tell him no.
And that’s something that worries me.
I can resist all I want, but we both know that in the end, he’s going to get his way. It’s scary how much power he has over me in such a short amount of time.
It’s scarier still that I like it.
I’m in way too deep already, which is why I know there’s no backing out or off of this until I’ve satisfied this craving I’ve developed. I’ll meet Alejandro, see what he’s all about, and maybe—definitely—let him taste and bite my lips. If I come out of it alive, then it will be an experience I’ll never forget.
Lord help me. I’m going in.
4
I went with the white jeans. They make my butt look…decent. I did a hundred squats before leaving the house in hopes of plumping it a little more—gravity and I have not been getting along well lately. I wish I would have done a hundred more, but my knees just aren’t what they used to be, and they already ache from those I did.
So, I resort to isometrics—squeezing my butt cheeks together—while I drive out to the restaurant where we agreed to meet. It has a bar, so thankfully, I won’t feel the pressure to eat. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to—my stomach is all kinds of fucked up. Anxiety is eating me alive, but so is the thrill of adventure.
To ease some of my rampant emotions, I blast the stereo, cranking up Rick Ross’s “Aston Martin Music.” The sensual flavor and beats help some, and I rap the few lines I’ve committed to memory to take my mind off what is now only a matter of minutes away from happening.
I’m meeting a man. I’m going to kiss a man who is not my husband. I feel like a teenager again…and I love it. I also hate it. But I love it more.
God, I hope this works out.
“I’m going to kiss a new boy tonight!” I shout over the music, because, yes, I really am that awkward. But it just needed to be said, like releasing the pressure on a valve. Never in my wildest dreams would I have seen myself doing this, but life throws you curve balls, and you adapt. So here I am.
I arrived at the restaurant right on time. It’s winter, so it’s already dark out. It’s also freezing, and the way the plaza the restaurant is located in is situated, it’s going to be a bit of a walk to reach the door.
My hand shakes, and my heart palpitates as I turned off the music. In its wake, the silence presses uncomfortably against my ears. I turn off the engine next, then release the seatbelt.
“God please, please, please let this be a good night,” I pray aloud as I open the door and step out. The wind is bitingly cold and hits me hard, wending its way through my coat and raising goosebumps everywhere.
I slip through the lot of parked cars, concentrating on my path to distract myself from what lies ahead. I hope he’s already here. I hope he’s not. If he is, then I don’t have to stand around and wait for him. If he isn’t, it’s more time for me to collect myself.
I round the corner to the front of the building, mindful of the slippery patches of compacted snow and ice leftover from the last winter blast, and before I even make it to the doors, I see him.
Oh God. Standing beneath the restaurant’s awning is the most beautiful man ever. He’s everything and nothing like his pictures, and my reaction to him is instantaneous. Every female part of me lights up like the Fourth of July, demanding to touch and be touched as every word we’ve exchanged rushes forward in my mind.
He’s tall like I expected, his midnight hair combed back and styled simply but sexy. His features are broad, strong jaw and thick neck that inspire thoughts of me licking and sucking on. I love a nice neck. There’s just something about a man’s neck that gets me hot and bothered.
He’s wearing a sweater and jeans that hug him just right, accenting a narrow waist and powerful thighs. I love that he’s not a toothpick—so many guys are it seems. He’s not overworked, but just right. The perfect build to make a woman feel comfortable standing beside.
When he sees me, a slow smile spreads across his face, and damn if it doesn’t light up the night. In that moment, I fall into those big brown eyes, and I’m lost. He is all I see.
“Mami,” he greets me, and his accented voice is a soft, gentle caress that makes me nearly trip over myself.
“Hi,” I reply, aware that I haven’t stopped smiling since the second I laid eyes on him. I can’t help it. It’s an instant connection for me. Any doubts I had before have completely evaporated. This is exactly where I want to be.
