The Blind Date

by Alice Ward

  He sucked in his lips. “Not particularly.” Despite that, he whirled me closer to her anyway, then took my hand and led me to the edge of the dance floor. “Mother. You look stunning.”

  He said it with a monotone, not with the fire that he’d used to bestow the same compliments on me. He leaned over and kissed her powdery cheek.

  She sniffed. “Zachary. You’re looking well.” She spoke as if he was a virtual stranger. Her eyes trailed to me and narrowed slightly. She lifted her chin, regarding me with a cool glare I didn’t understand. “And this is…”

  “Juliana,” I said too loudly before he could introduce me. I found myself smiling toothily, wanting to impress her. But I didn’t know what I could do. I was clearly out of her league, and she knew it. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  She ran a scrutinizing eye over me. “And you two… have you known each other long?”

  Zachary smiled. “We just met, actually.”

  “Surprise, surprise,” she said mirthlessly under her breath. “One of these days, perhaps you’ll have an inkling to invite the same woman out twice.”

  Without another word, she turned away.

  My eyes were wide as he led me back onto the dance floor. “What was that all about?”

  He shook his head, his lips pressed together in the thinnest of smiles. “My mother. Charming as always,” he said through clenched teeth.

  But the more I thought about it, the more I started to worry. One of these days, perhaps you’ll have an inkling to invite the same woman out twice. So, Zachary Vaughn had a history of dating various women, not getting himself entangled in relationships? Was that what that meant? Considering both our track records, our chances of having a second date were probably about nil.

  Why did that thought feel like a dagger sinking into my heart?

  “Well, she didn’t seem very happy with me,” I muttered. “So, you like to play the field?”

  “No, it’s me she’s not happy with,” he said, running a hand through his hair and pushing it off his face. He pulled me to him and peered down at me. “If she had her way, I’d have been married and settled down years ago.”

  “And you’re not, because…?”

  “Because I’m busy running a company, which is actually more than my father was doing at my age.” He grinned. “If you must know, yes, I have been playing the field. Well, when I’ve had the time. But I’m not against commitment. Not completely. I just haven’t gotten to that point in my life yet.”

  Leah said he’d had a breakup a year ago. She said he’d been struggling to get back into the dating world. I thought about bringing it up, but I didn’t want to ruin the mood. Right now, he had eyes only for me. Did I really want to bring up his lost love?

  Hell, no.

  We were out on the dance floor again. He snaked a hand around my waist and pulled me against him. All the air whooshed out of my lungs as I looked up at him, and my pulse started to pound. “Is she always so… frightening?”

  He laughed softly, then reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from my forehead, and the touch sent a frisson of desire down my body, like a lightning bolt. “Pretty much. Without my father to loosen her up, she can come off as a little bit… okay, a lot cold. Sorry. But you handled her well.”

  “You call that well?” All I could think was that she’d lodged my heart so deeply into my throat that I’d nearly choked on it. My palms were still slick from how nervous I’d been.

  “She has made a few of my dates run away screaming, so, yes.” His eyes broke with mine, and he looked over my head, following something behind me. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and I knew his mother was still watching us. “Hey. You ever been up to the rooftop of your favorite museum?”

  I shook my head. “It has a rooftop?”

  He took my hand. “Come on. It has a great view.”

  We went up the elevator to the top floor. When we stepped outside, the cool night air whipped against us, but before I could even think to feel cold, he wrapped his arm around me. We walked out into a courtyard bursting with greenery. “They usually have events up here, but we’re in luck. It’s just us.”

  Just us. Alone.

  We meandered down a path, past trees and bushes as the city skyscrapers loomed in the distance, lit up in a dazzling display. Meanwhile, he held me close to him, warding off any chill. I’d lived in the city for years but had never seen anything so breathtaking. I’d never experienced the city this way, the way he obviously did — like someone who wasn’t just a visitor, but who belonged here. I had this sudden, rare, invincible feeling… of finally belonging.

  He took me to the railing overlooking the treetops of Central Park and pulled me toward him. I was eager to be there, pressed up against his chest, so I wrapped my arms around his neck.

  His hand trailed up and down my spine. “Did you know that every man in the place wanted you?”

  I felt myself blushing. Surely that couldn’t be true. Not about old wallflower Juliana Hurley. Funny how when I was a kid, all the members of the opposite sex used to make jokes about my last name, vomiting and making “hurling” noises whenever I lumbered near. “You’re joking.”

  “I’m not. It’s true. You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, a playful sensuality in his smile as he studied me.

  I summoned the courage to ask, “Do you want me?”

  The smile widened. He pulled my hands from around his neck and kissed my knuckles. “Isn’t it obvious, Jule?” he murmured. “I want you most of all.”

  I sucked in a breath as he dragged a finger down my cheek. We were standing even closer to one another now, my breasts nearly pressed against his chest. “But we just met.”

  His eyes clouded for a moment with confusion, like he didn’t understand. Maybe in his world, he could lay eyes upon something new and have it in the next moment, but it never had worked that way with me.

  “All right. Tell me something about yourself,” he said, pushing my windblown hair from my face. “I want to know something about the most sought-after woman in the city. Tell me a secret about yourself.”

  “I…” I looked up into his eyes, now a dark shade of emerald that made me lose all sense of speech. The moonlight cast down upon his strong jawline, illuminating the stubble there, and I instinctively wanted to stroke his cheek. “What do you want to know?”

  “Honestly?” His eyes scanned my face, from my eyes, to my nose, to my lips, as if trying to commit it to his memory. “Everything.”

  That wouldn’t take very long. His life, living in the heart of the richest part of the country, owning his own successful business, dating often, sucking the marrow out of this city, was so glamorous.

  Me? I was a nutritionist from New Jersey who had a cat, all information which was guaranteed to put him in a coma. How I’d ended up with him now was still a mystery to me.

  But I intended not to let this moment pass me by.

  “I’ll tell you this most important thing about me,” I said, banishing all the nerves that threatened to stop me from getting what I really wanted right then.

  He was leaning into me anyway, our noses bumping, our breath uniting. “Tell me,” he murmured, his lips grazing the skin of my cheek.

  “I want you to kiss me now.”

  He let out a low, sexy laugh. “Is that so?”

  “Yes.”

  He tucked a finger under my chin, bringing my mouth to his, eager to comply. From the way his eyes held mine, I thought I could have asked him for anything, and he would have given it to me right then. I’d never had such power over a man. His lips met mine, capturing them with such softness, and yet the lightning bolt that passed between us was earthshaking.

  I felt like I was Galatea and he was my sculptor, bringing me to life, because when had I ever been kissed with such tenderness? Never. I opened my lips to him, accepting him, and he just as gently claimed me with his tongue.

  It felt so incredible, I let out a small moan of pleasure.

  I pa
rted my lips farther, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue moving more forcefully into my mouth. I tasted the champagne, reveled in the slow, hazy buzz of just enough of the bubbly wine. His hands strayed to my bare shoulders, and he pulled me closer to him, sliding them down the contours of my body.

  It scared me, how much I wanted him. How could I stop the best feeling my body had felt in years, maybe in my lifetime? Threading my hands tighter around his neck, I pulled him down to me. Emboldened by the feeling of his burgeoning erection against my stomach, I kissed his jaw. He was whispering something, but the words were lost to the pounding in my ears. I didn’t want talk. I only wanted this kiss to continue.

  I heard the fabric of the dress rustling below me, felt him gathering it into his fist, unsure of what he was doing but completely unwilling to tear my lips from his to find out. Suddenly, he hooked his arm under my knee, pulled my leg up around his hip, and nestled his erection against my core. “Do you feel how much I want you?” he murmured.

  Oh, I did. Oh, god. There was heat and throbbing, and I wasn’t sure if it was from him, or me. That felt good.

  His hands traveled down the small of my back and under the fabric of my dress, flirting with the strap of my thong. I slumped against him, tottering in my heels, pressing against his firm chest, feeling his heartbeat. Then I took his lapels in my hands, pulling him harder against me.

  He groaned softly, low in his throat, and then his arms were encircling me, his hands slipped down the back of my dress, cupping my bare ass. He started to move, thrusting his erection against me, slowly, so slowly and sweetly that it tore a gasp out of me.

  At once I was struck by how inappropriate it was. We were in public, and he was essentially humping me, his hands down the back of my dress. But could I tell him to stop? No. It was too good.

  He broke free of my mouth with a gasp. “Damn,” he said, his mouth traveling, open and hot, down to my jaw. “Where did you get an ass like this?”

  The word came out, ragged and breathless. “Elliptical.”

  He kneaded the tight muscles, something that sent desire spiraling through me. Not long ago, I’d been the chubby one, the girl men made fun of on a regular basis. This — not just this night but the feeling of a gorgeous man’s hands on me, appreciating the body I’d worked so hard to attain — was entirely new territory to me. I leaned into him, savoring it.

  Holding me close, he walked me backward until we were between two trees, hidden from breezes and in our own, private world. He pressed me up against a hard wall, crushing his mouth onto mine. He kissed me deeper, harder, his hand reaching up, tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck. I let out a groan as his tongue probed my mouth in slow, lazy, maddeningly sensual circles.

  “You’re so fucking sexy,” he growled, pressing against me, all hard muscle and searching hands. Who would’ve thought that I’d end up here, now, with him? It was too much, and not enough. My mind spun, and my body tingled with a drunken giddiness as his hands found their way to my shoulders. His fingers flirted with the dainty fabric of my dress, slipping the straps down my shoulders, before easing it down altogether, letting my breasts spring free in the chilly night air before I had a chance to protest.

  At once, he dragged his hands down to my exposed breasts, covering them. His warm hands felt like heaven on my damp skin. I leaned into his touch, groaning louder than I intended as he kneaded them, hard and rough.

  I cried out as he pinched each peaked nipple before rolling them between his fingers. The sensation sent bolts of electricity to my groin.

  He tore his lips from my mouth with a deep, ragged moan, licking his way down my throat. I threw back my head and exhaled a shaky breath as pleasure coursed through my body. “Your skin is so sweet.”

  I clung to him, desperate, twining my fingers through his thick hair as his mouth descended lower, his hot tongue dragging over my skin. He took my breast in his hand and darted his tongue, hard and hot, over my nipple.

  “I’ve wanted to suck on these since I first saw them,” he murmured.

  I blinked. Since he first saw them? Which was like… two minutes ago?

  I had a vague thought that he must have been talking about when he first met me, and I’d had the halter on. The halter had been tight. He must have been admiring them then. But all sane logic flew out into the night air as he sucked the already hard nipple into his mouth. His tongue was so slick and smooth on my skin that I gasped, falling deeper and deeper under his spell. I arched up against him, forcing more of myself into his mouth.

  Because, God, this felt right. I didn’t even know him, but he was so hungry and powerful and raw, that even if I never saw him again, I knew this was right.

  “I’m going to make you come,” he growled, his hands twining around the globes of my ass, squeezing them.

  “What?” I started to push his hands away. How could I tell him I’d never come? I doubted I could come. Not that I’d given it much of a try. Maybe, for some people, it was just impossible. I figured I was just one of those people. “Here? No. I’ve never…”

  “You can stop the act now,” he growled.

  “Act? It’s not…”

  Just then, he sucked so hard on my nipple that my knees buckled, and words escaped me. Any protest I made now was a half-hearted, futile struggle. No, I’d never orgasmed before. Never had a man who cared about my pleasure.

  But I wanted this.

  Even here. On the top of the Met.

  I wanted him to try.

  So I closed my eyes, let my mouth go slack as I surrendered, body and soul to this moment. All I could manage was a low, throaty moan. I needed this. His hands dragged up my bare thighs, warm on my goose-pimpled skin. Then he lifted the hem of my dress up, gathering it at my waist, exposing my thong as he sank to his knees.

  “God, you’re pretty,” he said against my sex. I looked down, watching him under me. His eyes were bleary and dark with desire as he ran a finger over the rough lace of my panties.

  My breath came hard and ragged. Maybe I should have cared, as exposed as I was, considering that anyone could have seen us, but all I could do was lick my lips in anticipation of what might come next. I felt his breath on me, hot and tantalizing, and so very, very alive.

  His fingers found their way under the thin string of material at my hips, and before I could think, he dragged it down to the ground. It was no barrier to him at all. He lifted my one foot, then the other, and then it was gone.

  I drew in a sharp breath as he knelt between my thighs, putting firm pressure on that sensitive skin, coaxing them apart.

  I’d never had a man’s face between my legs before. And here I was, shamelessly exposing myself to him. This stranger. My blind date. Three hours ago, if you’d told me this was where I’d be, I’d have thought you were insane.

  None of that pierced my conscious.

  No. I eagerly stepped my feet apart, giving him access to the most intimate parts of me.

  His eyes were trained on my clit. The thought of his tongue on me… maybe in me?… made every nerve in my body sizzle with electricity.

  “Do you want me to taste you, Jule?” he murmured. “Because I’m dying to.”

  I nodded eagerly, unabashedly.

  He bent his head and licked his way up my thigh, and all the while, half-formed thoughts swirled in my head: This is ridiculous. Dangerous. Crazy.

  He paused at the place where my thighs met, his breath on my center warm, slow, and inviting, enough to send me soaring into oblivion. When his tongue gently touched the sensitive nub, just the softest, barest touch, only a whisper, I arched off the wall and let out a cry.

  “Oh, my god,” I groaned as his tongue circled my clit.

  The movement was slow and gentle, but it was more than anything I’d ever felt. I writhed, pressing my back against the rough brick wall. I’m totally ruining this dress.

  Not that I cared.

  This feeling was absolutely priceless.

  But just as I’d
begun to adjust to the sensations, it transformed into something else entirely. Something more. Because at that moment, he pressed his tongue directly against my core, then sucked the sensitive flesh into his mouth.

  I threw my hands down, pounding on his shoulders with my fists.

  That didn’t stop him. I didn’t want him to stop. It felt almost too good. Like I wouldn’t be able to contain myself from screaming and crying and who knew what else. Two things were at war… the sense of decency that had been ingrained in me since birth, and the urge to find out what came next.

  That urge won out. I needed more.

  I bucked in time to his lapping, spreading my legs apart. Wider and wider, shamelessly, getting so into it that now, instead of pounding on his back, my hands tangled in his hair, pulling him harder against me. My dignity had long since stopped mattering. All that mattered was the feeling of his tongue on my core. He darted it in and out, exploring every last fold with expert precision. His tongue… my god, that tongue. His outer packaging was exquisite, but who knew that the hidden parts of him were just as incredible?

  It was almost embarrassing, how quickly I succumbed. He threw me over the edge of climax without warning, leaving me gasping, surprised, heat flaring in my cheeks. And it was so powerful, so ridiculously hot, that I could barely stand on my feet. As I came, thrashing against the wall, biting my fist so hard I nearly drew blood, I didn’t have to ask if that was an orgasm.

  That was definitely it. No question.

  “God,” I moaned, again and again as I shattered, releasing all the liquid heat and electricity that surged through my pores, thundering to the very end of my climax. I tangled my hands in his hair, grinding myself shamelessly against his mouth.

  He laid a kiss on my mound and sat back on his haunches. The stubble around his mouth was wet with my juices. He looked sexier still, his tousled brown hair now a total mess as he found the thong, slipped it back over my feet, and rolled it up to cover me. Then, very gentlemanly, he helped to lower my dress over my hips, making me presentable again.

  But I was far from it. I was shaking like a leaf in a stiff wind. Zach, however, seemed so very unaffected, like he brought women to their knees all the time.