The Blind Date

by Alice Ward

  “No. I definitely wanted to see you again,” he said, digging his hands into his pockets. “I want to see you now, even if you are a health freak.”

  Really? This had to be a dream.

  And when his eyes met mine, they were warm and heavy, and I could practically feel the lust radiating off them.

  My heart caught in my throat. “So… you were waiting for your blind date too? That night?”

  He looked at me, and what looked like uncertainty flashed across his face. “Oh. Yeah.”

  “What a crazy coincidence. My blind date was also named Zach, and I learned later that he had been hit by a taxi on the way to meet me.” He was looking at me like I must have been pulling his leg, so I added, “I’m serious. I mean, it’s terrible. But if he’d showed up, I never would have…”

  My eyes drifted to my toes, and I felt my face heat. He moved closer so that I could see his ruined shoes. His suit must have been expensive and custom because it fit him like a glove. Dammit. If I owned a snack cake factory, I’d weigh a thousand pounds. How does he do it?

  He put a finger under my chin and dragged my face up until our eyes met. “You never would have… what?” he murmured softly.

  All the breath left me as we gazed into each other’s eyes, the attraction pulling at us both. “Had that incredible night,” I said softly. “With you.”

  He smiled slowly, seductively, then lifted my chin higher. His smell, warm and male and strong, intoxicated my senses, leaving me dizzy as he leaned down, capturing my mouth with his.

  He devoured me softly, dragging me closer to him, his tongue flicking over mine, urgently devouring me as I leaned into him, wanting more.

  “If everything tasted as sweet as you, Jule,” he murmured against my lips, “I would be out of business.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Zachary

  This would never work.

  I knew it.

  Surely, I knew it.

  But here we were, together again, like a dream and a nightmare.

  “I want you,” she breathed into the skin of my neck, and I pulled her closer to my chest. “Like before.”

  It was the declaration I’d been wanting to hear all through the past week. Of course, this hallway, in the middle of the hospital was not the place.

  I looked around, wondering if she’d still want me if she knew that it wasn’t a blind date I’d been waiting for. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her I’d been waiting for an escort, that I thought she was the escort.

  Now, kissing her, listening to her make those soft, sweet noises, I realized how absolutely stupid I’d been. That innocent act? It wasn’t an act. She was really that inexperienced and sweet. I found myself thinking back to things she’d said.

  “Had you ever come? Before that night?”

  She shook her head, her cheeks turning that rosy pink that drove me crazy. “No. But I wasn’t denying myself pleasure. I just wasn’t sure I could.”

  God, this woman was going to kill me. I wanted her more than ever now.

  Behind me, I heard the auditorium burst into applause, and I knew the forum was almost over. Soon, these halls would be full of people who’d seen us going at each other in there.

  Now we were going at each other, in quite a different way. And I didn’t want anyone to see. I wanted her all to myself.

  I held her close to me as I searched up and down the hallway. Spotting salvation in the form of a door across the way with the word JANITOR splayed on it, I grabbed her hand. “Come on,” I whispered urgently, pulling her toward the door.

  Lucky us, it opened.

  It was little more than a linen closet, with just enough room for us to stand among the shelves of cleaning supplies, the utility sink, and the rolling bucket filled with mops. I pushed her in, into complete darkness, and closed the door. The odor of ammonia was powerful and caustic.

  But it would have to do. I couldn’t wait to have her alone.

  I pressed her against the door, fumbling with the knob for a lock. There wasn’t one.

  All right. That didn’t matter.

  My hands roved the front of her soft sweater, taking it by the hem and lifting it over those breasts. I dipped the pad of her bra down, freeing her breast, and sucked hard on the nipple. She mewled at the sensation and tangled her hands in my hair. “God, Zach. God.”

  She reached down and pulled at my belt buckle, wasting no time. I knew what she wanted, and my cock jumped to attention at once, thrilled to be in play so soon in the game.

  In the darkness, we scrabbled at each other’s clothing. She unzipped my pants, and her hand reached in, drawing out my cock as expertly as if she’d been imagining this moment almost as much as I had. Then her hands were at her own waist, unbuckling her belt and lowering her pants. Lowering her panties. She did it all. When I next lowered my hand down there, she was bare.

  Slipping my hand between her thighs, she was soaking wet. I pressed my fingers into her hot body, and she gasped as I continued to suck and lick her breasts.

  She kicked off her pants, spreading her legs shamelessly. “Now,” she said, her heart beating a mad drumbeat, the pace almost matching mine. “Now.”

  I hooked her legs around my hips, pressed her up against the door, and drove into her so fast that it stole her breath. She screamed, a sound I stifled with a hot, openmouthed kiss to keep anyone outside from hearing.

  And then I fucked her. Long, deep strokes into her. Either the door was shaking, or the whole world was shaking because my world was slowly beginning to shatter. She growled against my lips, begging, “Yes, oh, please, yes. You feel so good, Zach.”

  My sweet little Jewel, escort, professional nutritionist, it didn’t matter. She was my Jewel.

  It was only when I’d started to come that I realized I’d forgotten the condom. I couldn’t believe it. I’d never forgotten a condom in my life.

  I tried to stop, tried to not come, but her body tightened, milking me, and I exploded, my balls tightening as my eyes rolled back in my head. With only a millisecond to react, I pulled out and did the only thing I could do… catch my cum in my hand.

  Shit.

  “What happened?” she asked in the darkness, her breaths coming in harsh gasps.

  “Condom,” I said, still hunched over, wondering what kind of mess I was making on my custom suit. Perfect. The dry cleaners would love it. “I don’t know where my head was. I wanted you too bad.”

  Her voice was a breath. “Oh.”

  “I’m clean,” I offered. “I get checked every six months, and this has never, ever happened before.”

  I expected her to say the same, or that she was protected another way. But she didn’t. It occurred to me that she didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t an escort. She’d never come before. She’d been shy, and an outcast as a teen… maybe all of this was completely new to her.

  “It’s all right. I think I pulled out in time.” Remembering that this was a janitor’s closet, I felt around until I found a sink. Grateful, I turned on the water and cleaned up the best that I could.

  Fastening my pants, I felt around until I found her again, still leaning against the door. She was still breathing hard as she’d been teetering on the edge of orgasm when I’d suddenly brought that to a crashing halt.

  “Okay,” she whispered to me. “It’s okay, Zach.”

  “No, it’s not. Not for you,” I told her, my hands traveling to her abdomen. I slipped a finger between her legs, through the folds covered with her soft, downy hair, and hooking my knuckle, drove it into her warm, wet core.

  She gasped.

  I kissed her, long and slow, as I fucked her with one finger, and then two, feeling the pulsing ridges of her insides. All the while, my thumb brushed her clit in soft, circular motions. She started to sway against me, rocking on my hand, getting into it, her breathing coming shorter and faster now.

  “You like that?” I said. Unbelievably, she was making me horny again, just by those sweet, sexy little
sounds.

  She nodded, and her head lolled against my shoulder. “So much.”

  “I’m going to make sure you never deny yourself pleasure,” I whispered into her ear, nibbling on her earlobe. “You understand me? You’re beautiful. You deserve pleasure. Every day.”

  Adding a third finger, I stretched her, my hand locked between her strong thigh muscles, and she was pushing up against the door, a low moan emanating from her throat. “This is too good. I can’t…”

  I kissed the doubts away, feeling her insides pulsing around my fingers, twitching inside, hot and wet and so fucking sexy. “You can, do you hear me? You’re so fucking gorgeous. Come, Jule. Let it go.”

  And she did. Her insides contracted around me, hard and fast, and she growled as she slumped against me, her breasts pressed against my chest, the fabric of the soft sweater tickling my chin.

  “Mmm,” she whispered, still spasming around me as I slowly withdrew my wet fingers. “Oh, my god. How do you do that to me?”

  I chuckled, bringing my hand to my mouth. I wanted to taste her again. Taste her musky sweetness on my fingers, sucking them clean.

  How did I do it to her? It wasn’t difficult, with Jewel. Juliana. I wanted to. More than I’d wanted something in a long time. In fact, she probably deserved a hell of a lot more than what I’d just given her. A quick finger-fucking in a chemical-filled janitor’s closet. That was probably an asshole move. A Gavin move.

  I simply hadn’t been able to wait. She’d had me too out of control with desire. So the real question was, how had she done that to me?

  I’d make it up to her. Somehow. I would.

  We bumped together in the darkness as we put our clothes back on. We didn’t speak. I started to zip up my pants, and by the time I was fixing the buckle, she’d already gotten her clothes back on. I heard her fumbling with the door handle, and then there was a blinding light as she opened the door a crack to peek out.

  “All clear,” she said, flattening down her flyaway hair.

  I grabbed her hand, forcing her to look back at me. “Jul—”

  “Call me about the meeting,” she said, her eyes not meeting mine. “I’m very interested. I’ll be there.”

  And then she slipped out, closing the door behind her, leaving me in darkness. I listened to the sound of her heels on the floor, clicking away from me. Something unsettled grew inside me.

  Was that a mistake?

  The look in her eyes before she left, made me wonder.

  But no. It couldn’t have been a mistake. I’d found her again. I’d fucked her again, something that up until twenty minutes ago, I’d thought would be impossible. I’d made her come, hard and long, trembling against me as she spasmed around my hand. And I even wanted to do it again. No woman had ever held my interest for that long.

  How could something that felt that right possibly be a mistake?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Juliana

  Yet another friend sent me a text with a link to YouTube, featuring my speech. I watched it, not even minding too much when Zachary stuffed that Twinkle Toe into my mouth and I slammed it in his face. No, all I could concentrate on was his broad form, such a presence on the stage… and then my mind strayed to what happened afterward.

  Oh, lordy, that had been hot.

  I went into my kitchenette and fixed up a strawberry banana smoothie with low-fat almond milk yogurt. I told myself I needed the protein, but I wasn’t sure that was all I needed.

  No, Zachary had awakened a need in me that I didn’t think could be satisfied by just a few minutes in a smelly janitor’s closet.

  Every time I thought of him, or saw a picture of him, or watched a replay of that video, I felt ridiculously horny.

  It was a week after the open forum. Despite the Twinkle Toe stuffing incident, I’d gotten plenty of good feedback from Ms. Greer. As humiliating as it had been at first, the dialogue had gotten a lot of people talking. She said that there were plenty of people championing for the cause now who hadn’t been taking sides before. So, overall, she’d been thrilled with me.

  And true to his word, Zachary had texted immediately after, trying to set something up. I wasn’t sure if it was the meeting or just a casual get-together, just him and me that he wanted to set up, but either way, he’d texted!

  Finally, I’d gotten a man to text me back!

  But the thrill soon faded, after a few days of back and forth. We couldn’t get our schedules to gel, not even for a half-hour period. I worked during the day, and he had meetings and events during the evenings. So, we’d stuck with texts, and not interesting ones either.

  Some people liked to share their life story in texts. Zach wasn’t that type of person. His texts were terse, usually only a few words. Maybe he’d been following Leah’s rules of texting. Even so, I was determined to keep my texts shorter than his.

  It. Was. Infuriating.

  Okay, I wasn’t one to send a billion texts unprovoked, stalker-style, but I didn’t mind a little communication. Maybe even a few flirts? Nope. Zach was a very businesslike texter, showing absolutely no character whatsoever. And his last text to me, when I told him I could be free next Monday for the meeting, possibly a lunch event at a meeting space in his building at twelve, was… K.

  K.

  What kind of response was that? It wasn’t even a response, it was a freaking letter. And how could I formulate a response any shorter?

  So, I didn’t. It took all my strength not to text him back, but I didn’t.

  And after that day at the open forum, I’d learned that whatever I felt for him, either love or hate — I did it with passion. Vaughn Industries wasn’t just snack cakes. Their portfolio was comprised of frozen pizzas, candy bars, TV dinners… if it was bad for you, they made it. Of the 100 Worst Foods on my list I handed out to clients, seventy-five percent was from Vaughn Industries or one of their subsidiaries. The company was a virtual juggernaut of crappy, subpar food.

  But yes, while part of me hated him, for being Mr. Heigh-di-Ho, a really big part of me couldn’t get enough of him, and that happened to be the one that thought about him incessantly. Obsessively.

  Which was probably why, every night, alone in bed, I’d touched myself, making myself come again and again, like a freaking animal in heat.

  I wasn’t sure that that was much better. Before, I’d been a lonely girl who talked to her cat. Now I was a lonely girl who talked to her cat and masturbated excessively.

  Sigh.

  Leah was still in Vegas, but I knew what she’d say. Lay off. Ignore him. Leave the string and make him pull it. But how could I just ignore Zachary? He wasn’t just a guy to me.

  He was the guy.

  He looked at me like no man ever had. He made me feel things I’d never felt before. He’d thought I was beautiful, even in that picture of me as a teen, with my face looking so red and swollen, like a zit on the verge of popping. I told myself he’d said that because he just wanted to get into my pants, but I realized that was the old me talking. The one who used to pinch her fat and beat herself up because she’d start a diet, do well for a few days, and then ruin it by eating two bags of chips and six sodas and end up hating herself.

  God, I’d hated myself. Colton Something-or-other had only cemented those thoughts in my head. I never thought I could be worthy of anyone’s love.

  Zachary had single-handedly begun to rip those walls down.

  And I wanted more of that. But if I went after him, I’d be expressly going against Leah’s golden rules of man-catching, and risk turning him into all the other men I’d somehow pushed away.

  I couldn’t do that. I had to be careful.

  So as I finished off my smoothie and looked around my too-clean apartment, I felt more alone than ever.

  In that emotional state, I thought about my mother. In her own, unhelpful way, she did try to help. She was like Emily’s mother, always offering me “helpful” advice that always inadvertently wounded. She used to refuse to let sna
ck foods into the house and constantly policed me so that eating was all I ever thought about. Whenever I was away from her, which was often, I went wild.

  Everything she did had been for my own good, I knew that deep inside me. She only did it because she cared in her own, disjointed way. She just didn’t understand me well enough to feel compassion for the struggle.

  As I sucked down my smoothie, I realized that maybe I hadn’t made it easy for her. And I desperately needed that kind of connection.

  Not that my mother and I ever connected. We never palled around, cuddled, or did mother-daughter things. I’d wanted to, though. I’d always imagined myself sitting down with my mom, talking about my boyfriends, getting her motherly advice. The only problem was… I never had any boyfriends to speak of. She’d always ask me if I was dating anyone, and whenever I said I wasn’t, I felt like I was letting her down.

  Now, though? I had one. Not a boyfriend exactly. But something to talk to her about. A connection.

  Maybe that was why I found myself calling her that Saturday afternoon. She answered on the first ring. “Juliana? What’s wrong?”

  I frowned. “Nothing.” I guessed it was strange for me to be calling without reason. I usually only called when I had a problem these days, which wasn’t often. “I just was wondering if you wanted to grab a late lunch?”

  “Well, I’m at the office,” she said slowly, suspiciously. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” I said brightly. “So, you’re busy?”

  Of course she was busy. When was my mother not busy?

  “Well, I do have a few files to get through, as usual. Did you need something, honey?”

  “No, but have you eaten? I could bring you something?”

  She paused. “Why, that’s very sweet of you, Juliana. No, I haven’t eaten.”

  “Great! It’s a date.”

  I got myself changed and went to a little ethnic grocer on the corner, where I picked up sundried tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, and crusty bread and pesto, things I knew my mother would like. I even got a fresh fruit plate. It was all super expensive, but my mother had rather expensive tastes, and I wanted her to be happy with my choices. I had a cute little insulated picnic kit I’d gotten years ago and never used, so I brought that too, packing everything carefully for the subway so it wouldn’t break in transit.