by Naomi Niles
“Welcome, welcome, welcome,” her rich, Dietrich voice boomed throughout the room, hushing the crowd. “Tonight is an amazing night,” she looked out at the crowd, “because whether you believe it or not, love is in the room. I’ve been doing this for thirty years, and I have seen countless successful couples meet at my events. You’re no different. All you have to do is open up, be yourself, and take a risk — because if you don’t take a risk, nothing will happen.”
She paused for effect, then continued, “I’d like all of you to come up to the front of the room and grab a clipboard. On it, you will find a name tag, a number matching you to your first table, and a list of demands. Think long and hard about what you want in your ideal mate. Don’t ask for the world, but don’t sell yourself short, either. Write down only the necessities. This is just your first encounter. You have five minutes. When I ring the gong, ladies take your seats. Men find your first table.”
I took a clipboard, keeping a close eye on Gillian as she took a seat, and started pouring over things. She was watching me, too, glancing up when she thought I wouldn’t notice. I kept my eyes on the paper, trying to decide what to put down.
There were four spaces. How could I possibly fit my heart’s desire into four simple criteria? It wouldn’t work. I knew what I didn’t want. She couldn’t be stupid or shallow, and she couldn’t be conceited. But how would I know if she was the one?
I was still trying to decide what to write down when the gong rang. My table was at the far corner of the room. A young blonde woman was already sitting there, looking around. I didn’t want to walk up to her and start talking. I’d be leading her on, but I didn’t want to insult her, so I sat down.
She smiled up at me, letting her eyes move down my chest without even trying to hide it. “Hi, I’m Stacey,” she introduced as she offered me her hand.
I shook it. “Thomas,” I said.
“Should we go down the list?” she asked.
“You do it.”
“Okay,” she looked down. “Do you like dogs?”
“No, I can’t stand them. I hate having to clean up after them.”
“Well, that won’t work. I have three poodles.”
“Three?” I laughed.
“Yeah.” She set her clipboard down. “Shame, too.” She shook her head. “I’d eat you up.”
I looked down at the clipboard and kept my mouth shut until the gong rang, then moved onto the next table where a woman who looked like she was in her fifties was sitting, wearing a blue and black floral print dress with a fuzzy pink flower in her hair.
“Hi,” I sat down.
“This isn’t going to work, is it?” she asked.
“I’m afraid not.”
“That’s alright. At least I get to look at you.”
I stared down at my clipboard until the gong rang and sat down at the next table without looking up. When I did, Gillian was staring at me, blushing. “Well, hello,” I leaned in. “Did you get any numbers yet?”
“No.” She looked to her right, motioning towards a man who could barely fit in his chair with long red hair and pimples covering her face. “He thinks I’m the one,” she whispered.
“He’s not that bad,” I chided. “Red’s your color,. My eyes moved over her without hesitation.
“You think so?” She pulled her bodice down a bit, revealing the top of her breasts.
“Oh, yeah.”
“What’s on your list?” she asked.
I flipped it over so she could see that the page was blank. “I figure I’ll wait to see if we click. What’s on yours?”
She turned hers around. There was a rudimentary drawing of a knight lying on the ground with a knife in his heart.
“You’re not gonna stab me, are you?”
“We’ll see.”
“I’m curious,” I declared.
“About what?”
“What would happen if I did this?” I lunged forward and kissed her, drawing the moment out. She went stiff, then seemed to relax slowly as if she were melting. Her lips parted, giving me the chance I needed to push my tongue through. I closed my eyes. The room was gone. None of the people in it were there. We were alone in our own world, exploring the nuances of each other’s touch.
The sound of the gong ringing interrupted us. I pulled away, relishing her soft sigh. “I don’t want to move. Do you?”
She shook her head. “Stay here.”
“Tell me one thing: neither Lexie nor I can figure out why you invited me speed dating.”
“She told you.”
“She had to. The girl couldn’t stand it, and I’m glad she did. I was starting to think you thought I was gay or something.”
“You?”
“Yes, me.”
“Dwayne Howell, you are the straightest man I have ever met.”
“You like rough men?” I traced my finger over her arm and watched her shiver.
“Look,” she pointed to her right. The red-haired man was staring at us with a snarl on his face. “Get me out of here.”
“Gladly,” I took her hand and helped her up. Then we hunted down Lexie, who’d been at the same table for two rotations. She waved us away and texted Gillian to tell her she’d get a ride home.
We were alone, walking through the street to the car, both of us engrossed in the electric energy swarming between us. Gillian had to struggle to focus on the road as she drove. Halfway there, I rested my hand on her thigh. She tensed up as my hand traveled farther up her leg, then stopped just short.
When we got to my house, I dove in and slammed my lips against hers, this time pressing through, roaming my tongue through her mouth. When I pulled away, I bit down on her bottom lip and she sighed softly.
“You want to come inside?” I couldn’t believe the words had left my mouth, but something had awoken inside of me. I wasn’t the subdued choir boy any longer — I was a man overcome by desire.
She didn’t have to respond. I knew what she wanted. I hopped out of the car, opened her door, and pulled her up into my arms so I could carry her into the house.
Chapter Twelve
Gillian
Dwayne was a lion being let out of his cage after a decade. Beneath his solid, quiet shell was a beast, more powerful and aggressive than I could’ve possibly imagined. I thought I was in control. I was going to reel him in and make him work for it, but he was one step ahead. He let me think I knew what I was doing, long enough to lure me into his cage. Then he pounced.
He pulled me out of the driver’s seat of my car. “Come here.”
“What are you doing? No, don’t pick me up,” I laughed.
“You’re coming with me.” He pulled me up into his arms and cradled me against his body. His body was like solid fire, pure masculine energy embodied. I couldn’t protest with my head rested against his ridged chest.
He carried me inside, through the hall and slammed me down on the bed. He was on me, his body pressed against mine, his lips, moving over my own while his hand cupped my breast, his thumb circling the nipple. His mouth moved back, behind my ear, and his teeth dug into my skin, sending chills down my body, travelling with him as he moved over my neck — his breath, his lips. My body was sweltering, trapped by his warmth and the sheer bliss of being worshipped.
His hand moved down my side, he bit my neck and my head fell back, my breath fluttering out in a gentle gasp. “You’re so sexy,” he growled. His hand was moving farther down now, over my hips. He thrust it up my dress and clamped down on my clit through my panties.
“Oooh,” a silky sigh flowed out.
“You like that?” He reared up, his fingers moving over my opening.
“Yes.”
A toothy grin, another clamp down on my clit, and my body was reeling, throbbing, pulsing. Something was building between my legs. He was pulling up my dress now, reaching up behind my back to unhook my bra. He threw it on the ground and pulled me up so that he could whip my dress off and throw it on the floor.
; The cold air rushed in and goosebumps were sprouting up all over my body. He lowered himself down again, pressed his lips against mine, then left a wet trail down my neck and over my chest, his breath, streaming out over my shoulders. His tongue flew out to circle my areola.
I gasped. “Like that. Yeah, just like that.”
He pinched my nipple and moved on to the next one. His hand was moving down my body, his fingers walking over my stomach, down past my belly button, then onto my labia. He drove his finger through and rose up to take in the look on my face.
I felt the moisture welling up inside me, filling me, wetting his finger. He was moving faster now, rubbing my clit in between his fingers. I could see the bulge in his jeans resting against my leg, and I started to feel the panic, an insatiable need I could never fully satisfy on my own. I needed him inside me, and I needed it now because the electric ball of pressure between my legs was starting to grow past its breaking point.
He saw me looking at his cock, met my eyes, and reached down to stroke it. He moved his thumb over the head, down the shaft, all the while watching my eyes as they grew wider, my mouth salivating. “You want this?” He grabbed it with one hand and used the other to pinch my clit.
I nodded my head.
“Are you going to cum?” He shoved his fingers deep inside me, hitting my g-spot. I gasped, struggling to keep from exploding, but I could only hold it so long. He was driving his finger through me, in and out, smiling as I threw back my head.
“Fuck me,” I said in a soft whisper.
“What’s that?” He cupped his hand over his ear and pinched my clit hard.
I gasped. “Fuck me,” I cried a little louder.
His finger was deep inside me, massaging my g-spot. “Oh, you want me to fuck you.” He reached forward and pinched my nipple. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to do anything you don’t want me to do.”
I was red with anger, pulsing with desire and dying for more. I’d never been so infuriated in my entire life. “Just do it.”
He reared up and threw his shirt on the ground, revealing a map of scars and tattoos, so intricate that I could’ve spent years going over them, asking about their meaning. My eyes moved down his massive shoulders, over his toned arms, his ridged stomach, to the tuft of black hair sticking out of his jeans. His laugh rolled out. “You want to see it?”
“I want it.” I sat up and lunged forward, but he held me back and wagged his finger.
“Uh-uh.” He stood up and walked around me so he could lift my legs and rest them on his shoulders. He thrust his hips forward, letting his bulge move over my leg, closer and closer. Then he leaned forward to kiss me as he pulled his pants down.
As far as I was concerned, the only things that existed at that moment was his cock standing straight up, pointed at me and his lips, like a brush painting new sensations, things I never thought possible. Then, all of a sudden, he slammed his dick deep inside me.
I threw my head back and cried out, riding a wave of motion and force, so captivating that I’d completely lost control. He was too powerful, too big, and he knew how to move and press up into that spot. I was a spectator watching a stream of bliss flow throughout my body as the pressure inside me mounted.
He was relentless. There was nothing gentle about what he was doing. It was pure momentum — raw, animal energy. His teeth bared, he rose up, his body towering over mine, taking control as his hips thrust back and forth in time with his grunting.
Sweat was pouring down his forehead, his breath racing. I could barely keep up, he was moving so fast. One thrust melded into another as the pressure surged through me. Something snapped. A dam broke, and a wave of bliss spread throughout my entire body, sending my head back, my mouth open.
“Awww,” I cried out. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t talk. I was stuck in it. Finally, he collapsed by my side and pulled me closer, resting my head against his chest. I could die there happily, but logic was rushing in.
I started to question myself and what I was doing. Was I living out some childhood fantasy? Was I really ready to rush into this? Once he got control, I wouldn’t have a choice. He had me, and there’d be nothing I could do to stop him. I wasn’t ready for that. I was still trying to build a career for myself. I didn’t need this kind of distraction.
I sat up, feeling like a complete bitch, and looked back. “I’m sorry. I should go. I have to work in the morning.”
“Are you sure?” He wanted me to stay. Most men would’ve kicked me out the door by now.
“Yeah, I’ll call you though.” I grabbed my clothes and started getting dressed. He didn’t say anything. He just watched me, clearly disappointed, as I walked out. I hated myself for doing that to him, but I couldn’t let myself get caught up in anything that might get me hurt.
That’s what it came down to — it wasn’t just about the distraction. I was worried that I’d get in too deep, and that when it didn’t work out, I’d get my heart broken.
Chapter Thirteen
Dwayne
My bed was perfect; my clothes were ironed and spotless. On the surface I looked great, but inwardly, I was shrieking. The entire drive to the office, I kept thinking about the way that Gillian walked out right after we finished having sex.
It was obvious she regretted being with me, and that didn’t sit right. We both liked each other. We both wanted to be with one another, and she kept ruining it. Why would she do that? Is she afraid of getting involved with somebody? Is there something about me that unsettled her? I couldn’t help but think that it was my fault.
Something had taken a hold of me that night. I don’t know if it was desire or sexual frustration, but I couldn’t help myself. I threw off my usually quiet demeanor and transformed into a beast. I’d never seen that side of myself before. It was exciting and dangerous, a thrill I’d never expected. Maybe Gillian couldn’t handle the intensity.
Fred was waiting for me behind the receptionist’s desk when I got there. His face was bright red, and he had a water bottle sitting next to him. Clearly, he’d been drinking. “How’s it going? You ready for your first day?”
“Absolutely,” I said.
“Good.” He reached into his pocket to pull out a ring of keys. “These are for the back and front entrances. When you leave for the day, lock up and make sure that nobody is inside the building. We can’t have the alarm going off because somebody got locked in.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good; if you have any questions, you know my number. I’ll be around here for a while if you need anything.”
“Thank you.” I took the keys and walked back to the office with my coffee. I didn’t like the idea of sitting in a chair all day and doing nothing. I kept thinking back to the desert, the action, the blood and sand…those poor women.
I didn’t have any room to complain. Most people would kill for a job where they could sit around and do nothing, but that was civilian life. It was all about avoidance, not duty. They wouldn’t take something like this seriously. They’d have done the bare minimum. That’s why I was given the job. Jacobs knew that she could trust me to stay vigilant and get the job done. I couldn’t let my CO down after she stuck her neck out for me.
I felt like a Peeping Tom, watching people pacing around their offices and pouring themselves coffee in the break room. I couldn’t hear anything they were saying, but I could see everything they were doing. I decided to make it a game. I imagined the people in the break room were going over their nights at the bar. When they spoke, I imagined what they might be saying.
One guy nudged another. I imagined he was asking his friend if he’d hit that last night. The other guy stared down at his coffee as if he were ashamed of striking out. A group of women were walking down the hall towards one of the conference rooms. One would turn to the other, and I’d imagine that she was talking about the nasty guy that tried to hit on her at the bar. I gave a story to every character and followed them through until lunchtime when my pho
ne started ringing.
“Hello?” It was Michael.
“Hey, man. What you been up to?”
“Working. It’s my first day. They have me watching the cameras for twelve hours.”
“That’s got to be hell on you. I’ll bet you’re ready to run out.”
“I’ll admit I didn’t like it at first, but it’s easy and they’re paying me well, so I don’t mind.”
“I was thinking of heading out there this weekend. I was wondering if you wanted to meet up, maybe get a drink.”
“Sounds like fun. I don’t have any other plans, so I don’t see why not.”
“I’ll give you a call later on then.”
I went back to the cameras. The man who didn’t get laid was talking to one of the women in the break room. She was nodding her head, listening to what he was saying. My phone started vibrating again. It was a text from Gillian.
“Saturday?” it said.
“Aw, shit.” There was no way that I was going to stand her up, but I couldn’t go out with her if her brother was in town. I’d have to find some way to compromise and make it work.
“Of course,” I texted back.
Chapter Fourteen
Gillian
The weekend couldn’t come soon enough. I spent my time trying to stay as busy as I could, but in the quiet hours, when work was over and there was nothing to do but sit and stare at the TV, I couldn’t help but wonder whether or not I was doing the right thing.
Lexie was right. I could get too attached. Things might not go the way I wanted them to, and if they didn’t, I’d be left hanging, thinking about what could’ve been. I stayed close to my phone as best as I could. I couldn’t keep it on me during class, but I did check it every time I got a chance.
The second the girls started dispersing, I’d run over, pull it out of my duffel bag, and turn the screen on. It didn’t take me long to realize something was wrong. Saturday morning, I woke up anxious and worried. I was starting to think that Dwayne didn’t want to talk to me. I got dressed and walked into the kitchen. There were three bowls and a pan sitting in the sink. I picked up the sponge and started scrubbing the pan, taking my time, trying to get every crevice. I had to stay busy.
