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“And now, you’re out $550!”
“I guess I am!”
I stomp my foot and wince. “But I’m not spending the weekend with you in Nashville.”
“I know that, Ursula,” he says. Softly. Calmly. Steadily. Looking me dead in the eyes as I feel like melting. “It’s your trip to do with as you like. And it’s on me.”
Wait a minute. He’s not using this as a way to coerce me into a weekend away? He’s implied over and over that he wants a relationship, but he doesn’t seem to care that I want to spend a weekend away with a girlfriend?
“Then let me Venmo you. I can’t be beholden to you, Noah.”
“Put your phone away. You are not beholden to me. You don’t even have to date me again. What I did tonight doesn’t entitle me to a damn thing, do you understand that?”
In my head, I do. But viscerally, I can’t forget how I’ve been treated before. Men always think they’re entitled. Especially men who are prone to following me around.
“I’m having a hard time understanding your motivation with that, Noah. It’s a lot of money.”
He laughs. “I know it is, and I don’t care. I just wanted to do something nice for you. That’s all.”
Is he for real?
I look into his eyes. So clear. So true. Zero phoniness that I can see.
This man is good. Too pure to have a nasty fling with before I leave town. But he’s already said he’s okay with a little fun. And I believe him.
Gosh, just look at that face. What am I going to do with him?
There’s only one thing left to do. I throw my arms around his shoulders and kiss him hard. So hard, I hope it lets him know that I don’t have any intention of letting this night end anytime soon.
“And this is our second date, in case you forgot,” he says.
This guy. I’m going to miss him when I leave.
ChapterEleven
Noah
Forgetting where we are, I drag my palms over her hips, tugging her close, using her body’s friction to give some relief to my aching cock. She feels amazing with her tongue in my mouth, her pelvis dragging over my length. But that relief is only temporary and is replaced by an urgent need.
She whispers the five most coveted five words on a first or second date with the woman of your dreams. “Let’s go to your house.”
* * *
I wasn’t going to say anything about her shoes until she started limping.
Ursula’s sad face at the foot of the gravel walkway leading to my front door tells me what I need to do.
“Right. Ready for the grand tour?”
“What? Oh my gosh, Noah!”
Maybe I should have warned her I was about to scoop her up princess-style and carry her to the front door.
Begrudgingly, I set her down so I can open my house. “I’d hoped to carry you over the threshold, but...logistics.”
“It’s fine,” she says as I toe open the door.
Ursula shrieks again when I scoop her up once more and begin the official tour.
