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“Sounds perfect. I love Italian.”
I pull a menu from my kitchen drawer, and we decide on salads and lasagna. After placing the order, I grab a bottle of my favorite wine.
“We have about an hour until it gets here,” I say as I take out wine glasses. “I know you enjoy red wine. Have this. It’s a great vintage, one of my favorites.”
I hand the wine glass to Lana and watch as she takes a delicate sip. I almost feel jealous of the wine glass as she wraps her lips around the edge of it. As though in a trance, I can’t take my eyes off her. She is standing there, wearing only my T-shirt. It’s so large on her that it practically swallows her, the hem hitting her mid-thigh. She’s not wearing a bra, and I can see the outline of her nipples through the thin material. She should look ridiculous wearing it, but somehow, she looks hot as hell.
She doesn’t seem to notice her own beauty and appeal. She has captivated me, and I don’t know how to get her off my mind. But I do know one thing. I need more time with her. I’m not ready for her to go. She thinks that this is a one-night stand and that after tomorrow, I’m going to let her go back to the way things were before. She’s wrong. We aren’t done. Whatever this thing is between us, I’m not willing to let it go after one night.
“Stay the night with me,” I blurt out.
“I can’t. Jake, as much as we both enjoyed this, it has to end tonight.” She shakes her head regretfully at me and looks down at her feet. She seems nervous, and I’m not okay with that. And I’m not okay with things ending tonight. I walk over to her, so close to her, but not touching.
“Stay the night with me,” I say again, more intensely.
“I can’t,” she whispers.
Her words say no, but her voice is laced with regret and disappointment. She wants to stay with me.
I reach down and cup her chin in my hand, forcing her to look up at me. My head gradually lowers to hers, and I kiss her, soft and fleeting again. And another kiss, soft and fleeting. I move to nuzzle behind her ear, and she makes a soft mewing sound as she grabs onto my hair. As I nip her earlobe, she lets out a soft gasp.
I know how to be persuasive.
I pull back from her neck only to move forward again to brush my mouth slowly across her lips.
“Stay the night with me,” I demand. I’m not asking anymore.
“No,” she says breathlessly.
I wrap my arms around her back and pull her closer. I take her mouth hungrily, demanding. Her lips part, and I am quick to take the opportunity that she is giving me. I slip my tongue into her mouth, and a lightning bolt of lust shoots through me. We are synchronized so perfectly, and our senses are heightened to each other. I taste the wine on her lips, and it makes me hungry for her.
What started as a kiss to convince her to stay is quickly turning into something more. For a moment, I feel guilty for using this as a way to convince her to stay. But that guilt is quickly overridden by the inferno slowly building in me each time she touches me.
Or looks at me.
Or sighs into my ear.
I know it’s too soon to be doing this again, but I can’t stop now that I’ve started.
My hands lower until I cup her bottom, and I lift her and pull her tightly against my hardness. I want her to feel how much I want her again. I lift her onto the kitchen counter and move in between her legs. I run my hands up and down her back, her firm ass. She wraps her long, lean legs around me, and I run my hands down her thighs. I need to touch her, to have her against me. My hands run back up her smooth thighs, moving toward her hips. Her shirt is in the way, so I move the hem up. Higher, higher. Fuck. She’s not wearing any panties.
I’m instantly so rock-hard that I can barely stand straight. Blood surges through my veins like hot lightning. I’ve got to slow this down, or I’m going to embarrass myself. But the need to be inside her is quickly becoming unbearable. I pull back slightly from her. I need some space between us.
She notices me pull back, and her unfocused eyes gaze up at me. I can sense the passion pouring from her in waves.
“You’re so beautiful. I’m never going to be able to look at that shirt again without thinking of you wearing it.”
“Maybe I’ll just keep it then.”
“Hmmm, I don’t know if I’m willing to let you steal my shirt. How about if I take it back now?”
“I bet you’d like to try. But it’s mine now,” she says with a wicked gleam in her eyes.
She unwraps her legs from my waist, takes a sip of her wine, and puts the glass back on the counter. When her tongue slips out to lick theremaining liquid from her lips, I feel my control let go. I lean forward in a rush, grab the back of her head, and pull her to me in a kiss so searing and hot that I feel an electric jolt run through me.
Panting, I pull my mouth away from her. I pull her shirt up and over her head and take one firm breast into my mouth while my other hand curves around her back, and I pull her hard against me. I can feel her wetness and heat against the thin material of my boxers, and it’s almost my undoing.
Her hands move up and down my arms and then my chest. Then lower. I stop breathing. When she pulls down my boxers and wraps her hands around my straining length, I almost come right there. The feeling is so intense, almost unbearable. I’m barely holding myself together. She tightens her grip and moves her hand slowly down. Then up. Then down.
