Blink

by Violet Williams

  The hostess stopped at a table near the kitchen. Simone’s stomach rumbled when a whiff of spices and the tantalizing warmth of cooking meat assaulted her senses.

  She mumbled a thank you to the hostess and let out a chuckle as Mark reached out, stopping her before she pulled out her own chair.

  “Allow me.” He pulled out her chair and presented it with a flourish.

  “Thanks,” she said, blushing hot. He was really going all out.

  He joined her at the opposite side of the table. He waved at a few of the bus boys as he settled into his seat.

  “Frequent diner?” Simone asked with a smirk.

  “Yes indeed,” he replied. “Their filet mignon is killer.”

  Simone gazed at the menu, trying to not freak out when she saw not one damn thing was under twenty bucks. Even the sides.

  A waitress saddled up to their table, giving Mark a playful shove. “Marky Mark! We’ve missed you!”

  “Marky Mark?” Simone repeated with a snort.

  “An embarrassing story,” Mark said with a groan.

  “One I’ve gotta hear,” Simone laughed, crossing her arms.

  “Okay so the owner of Red Room, Mario Barillo is this little, elderly Italian man-” the waitress began.

  “Oh Lord,” Mark said, dropping his head.

  “And on his 85th birthday-” the waitress continued, only egged on by Mark’s shame, “Okay a little context first—Mario doesn’t look it, but he’s, like, the biggest rap music fan ever. Like can quote “Fight The Power” and would blast Jay-Z if he knew it wouldn’t drive the rich folks away.” She shifted her weight before pressing on. “So when he comes to Mario’s party, Mark is decked out in Phat Farm, Timberlands, and a backwards baseball cap and he just busts out in this awesome Happy Birthday rap. It’s on Youtube and-”

  “Okay, okay,” Mark said, turning red as Simone laughed, trying to imagine the getup.

  She leaned over, giving the waitress a wink. “I’ll get that url from you later.”

  “So a Merlot for me,” Mark said quickly, shaking his head. Gosh. He was even hot when he blushed!

  Simone dropped her gaze and scanned the wine list. There was no way she was gonna spend fifteen bucks on a glass of wine. “Just water with lemon for me.”

  The waitress listed the specials before heading off to grab their drinks and Simone glanced over at her date. “So when you’re not rear ending people and spitting rhymes, what do you do?”

  “I’m a financial advisor,” he replied with a chuckle. The waitress unloaded their drinks and he took a sip of his wine before he continued. “Not nearly as glamorous as it sounds, believe me.”

  “Oh?” Simone said with an eye roll. “No fast cars, five star restaurants, and making 50k commissions in a blink of an eye?”

  “Touché,” he grinned. “I guess I do alright. How about you?” He paused, giving her a pensive look. “Let me guess…teacher?”

  “Nope.”

  “Social worker?”

  “Not even warm.”

  “I’m stumped,” he shrugged.

  “Accountant,” Simone said, sipping her water.

  “Huh,” he said, his eyes glittering with playfulness. “I would have never pegged you for something so cutthroat. Numbers are pretty hardcore.”

  “Oh really?” Simone said defensively. She flashed back to arguments with guys who seemed to be intimidated by the fact that she was better at math than they were. “I must be some fragile dandelion?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he said, holding out his hands in defense. “Just surprised is all.”

  Simone breathed in and out, trying to chillax. He was obviously just kidding around. She wasn’t sure why she took offense.

  But deep down, the reason why was pretty clear. She wanted him to like her. Not some watered down version of her that was easier to swallow or better for his ego. “Sorry.” She took a hearty sip of her water before she began again. “Numbers make sense. No second guessing, no hidden meaning. Just formulas. Neat and tidy calculations. That’s my scene.”

  “Interesting.” When she gave him a look, he added, “Really!” He leaned forward. “And what do you do for fun?”

  “I write,” she replied. “Movies, etcetera. Normal stuff. Used to go out back in college, but not so much anymore. I’m still a big fan of live music though. Indie folk, indie rock. Bon Iver, Rilo Kiley and such.”

  “Rilo Kiley, huh?” he said with a strange look.

  “What?” she said bitingly. “You were expecting Lil Wayne?”

  “No,” he chuckled. “I’m just, uh, a really big fan of Rilo Kiley too, actually.”

  It was Simone’s turn to rock a strange look. She’d accused him of stereotyping, but she had to admit that she would have pegged him for jazz. Something chic and vogue. “You’re into Rilo Kiley?”

  “Mmhm,” he nodded. “There’s just something about her throaty twang. And when I saw them at Coachella last year…Wow.”

  “You went to Coachella?” Simone hissed jealously.

  “I did,” he answered, his eyes glossing over as he recounted the festival.

  Coachella was Simone’s Mecca, an oasis in the desert, packed full of a paradise of all her favorite bands.

  “-Good Old War, The Black Keys…” He blinked rapidly, knocking her out with another dazzling smile on top of everything else. “You been?”

  “Not yet,” Simone answered.

  “Maybe this year,” he winked.

  Simone let out a laugh. “You think Coachella tix will get you out of paying for my bumper?”

  He finished off his wine. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He drummed his nails on the table top, fidgeting uncomfortably like he had something he wanted to share but no idea how to broach the subject.

  Simone tried to decode his behavior. “Everything alright?”

  He hesitated, but finally let out a gust of air. “I have something to say, but I’m kinda worried that it’s gonna weird you out.”

  Simone didn’t know what to say to that. “Uh-”

  “It’s not anything bad,” he clarified. “Or at least, I hope you don’t think it’s bad.”

  She tried to prepare herself, expecting him to say that he had like, a foot fetish. Or secretly still lived with his mother. It had to be something bizarre, he was just too good to be true otherwise. “It’s probably better if you just come out with it.”

  “Okay.” He straightened his spine. “I’m glad I rear ended you, Simone.”

  Her eyes went wide. “What?”

  “I mean, I’m not glad that I damaged your car, but I’m glad we met.” He licked his lips, and reached over and put his hand over hers. “You’re beautiful, smart, funny, feisty--and into Rilo Kiley-”

  “And you live with your mom?”

  He went bug eyed. “Say what?”

  “Or you have a body in your fridge? Or pick your nose and flick the boogers on strangers?” There had to be something wrong with him.

  He let out a laugh that was contagious and they were both guffawing, drawing the eye of the diners all around them.

  “I most definitely do not live with my mother,” he said, still gasping with gulps of laughter. “I can prove it even.”

  “Oh?”

  His voice went serious. “Sure.”

  Simone’s body kicked into over drive. He was asking her to come home with him. She didn’t know which was scarier—the fact that she wasn’t weirded out by his invitation or the fact that her body was begging for her to accept.

  When the waitress came back to their table to get their order, she snapped her menu closed. “Check, please.”

  ***

  As Simone walked into his apartment, her eyes were instantly drawn to the view. Not that he didn’t have a killer eye for interior design—the décor was minimalist, low fuss and modern, but the real draw was the floor to ceiling window that looked out on the city street. The night glittered with the glow of a thousand fireflies. She felt like she could reac
h out and touch them, hold the light in the palm of her hand.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Mark asked behind her.

  Normally, she would have said yes. She would have needed some liquid confidence to steel her nerves, because she never went home with a guy that she hadn’t extensively vetted via several dates. But there was just something about him, something that disarmed her. She felt completely at home with him. “No, I’m fine.”

  He walked up beside her, looking out into the night. “It’s really something, huh?”

  “It really is.” She glanced over at him with a smirk. “Definitely beats my view of a Starbucks and a strip mall.” She swayed from side to side as the sounds of “Sun Hands” poured from a sound system perched a few feet away. “Local Natives? I love this song.”

  She glanced over at him and moved closer. Needed to be closer. Him, this view, the music…it was like something out of a dream and she didn’t want to wake up.

  He pivoted toward her and took his hand, grazing her cheek. His cerulean eyes shone as he took a step closer to her, so close that she could feel him breathe. “God,” he whispered. “You’re so beautiful.”

  He went half way, his lips parted. Hopeful.

  She went the rest of the way, closing her eyes as their lips met. The contact blindsided her with its resplendent feel. It was impossible for a kiss to strip her down to her bones, to her very soul, but anything seemed possible in the throes of his lips. A crescendo of emotions bubbled over the brim as they enveloped one another.

  His strong arms corded around her, pulling her near as his lips scoured hers, imprinting on her. His taste would be tattooed there now, a reminder of this night, of the attraction that made her do something so uncharacteristic. As intoxicating as his embrace was, there was a niggling itch that asked her what she was doing. She never went home with a guy after the first date. Hell, they’d technically only had half a date, prefaced by an auto accident.

  She quieted the storm of whys and instead built up the case for why not. Why not take a chance on a beautiful stranger? She deserved a little happiness, a little bliss. Not feeling him so close that she could make out the curve of his desire against her lower abdomen just wasn’t an option. Not sleeping with him wasn’t an option.

  He pulled back, coming up for air. His eyes searched her for pause, any hesitation. “If we’re moving too fast-”

  She let her movements squash any misgivings, unlatching his belt and unzipping his fly. She took hold of his stiffness as he let out a moan and tore off his button down shirt.

  “Well then.” he grinned from ear to ear.

  She giggled as he gripped her buttocks and lifted her, carrying her from the living room. The view from the window didn’t compare to the one she found in his eyes. She saw want colored there as vibrant and tangible as the hard-on he was rocking, begging for attention.

  And then there was his body, revealed now, no longer censored and a tease beneath clothing. His chest was bare, but the canvas was filled with a roadmap of muscles, hard and delicious to the touch. And he had the cuts at his pelvis that men killed, doled out big bucks to attain. From the top of his beautiful head to his muscular calves…every delicious inch was hers.

  She squealed when he dumped her on the bed, fumbling with her clothes, pulling at the stitches that were keeping them from one another, flesh to flesh. The husky growl that echoed in the back of Mark’s throat when he took in her naked frame made her shudder with anticipation. Would he make noises like that while he moved inside her, took her with that massive bulge that jutted out from his perfect body?

  When he climbed on to the bed, his navy eyes boring into her, it was almost enough to make her come on the spot. “Like what you see?”

  The mattress dipped with his movement as he slid on top of her. His lips brushed her ear, his deep voice a purr. “Like doesn’t do it justice.”

  Simone threw her head back as his lips focused on the nape of her neck. He alternated kisses and nips with his teeth as he grinded against her. Her arms were up, over, pulling him tighter, deeper. Her body cried out with every new wave of kisses that lit up her skin, her juicy core clenching with want as his cock rubbed against the seat of her panties. She was so wet, dripping for him.

  “Now,” she begged. “I need you now.”

  She shimmied her hips upward as she felt his fingers making a hot trail down her waist, winding down ‘til he took hold of her panties and pulled them down. She took her hands and ran them down her abdomen, to the heart of her desire as he turned to the nightstand, pulling out a sheath for himself. She was tempted to just tell him to forget it and just take her, to just worry about the consequences later. She just wanted him inside her.

  He finally came back to her, his eyes gleaming with passion as he gripped her hips with a force that made her cry out with hot need. “Give it to me,” she urged. She kept his gaze, imagining his bulge as it steered toward her entrance. She clutched the covers as she felt the tip of him just barely grazing. He was taunting her, his torso rippling as he dove just inside her lips, sliding up and down the length of her slit.

  She squirmed and wiggled, whining for release. She wanted to literally take hold of him and stuff him inside her. She’d lived for months without the feel of a lover, thinking she was getting by alright with four double A batteries and the dependable purr of her favorite toys. But now she saw that she’d been deluding herself. Now that she felt his bulging want so close, heard his labored breathing matching her own, she wouldn’t settle for anything less than him parting her, splitting her wide open.

  The teasing was maddening and when he pulled out, denying her the full touch of his cock yet again, she took her chance, using her hips to upend him. She maneuvered on top, letting out an “Aha!” that elicited a laugh and a moan from him. She took the reins, relishing the look of yummy surprise on his face as she straddled him.

  She’d show him cutthroat. She’d show him the ride of his life.

  She steadied herself and lifted off him just so, securing the rubber and holding his stiffness steady. She zeroed in on him and steered every hardened inch of him inside her hole. Her thirsty core gulped him up, making a satisfied smack. She felt so complete, some emptiness she never knew was there fulfilled as she built up speed, bouncing up and down on him.

  The pressure built as she rocked back and forth on him, dragging her body up and down, down ‘til his balls slapped her bum, pulling out to the tip before plunging back down and taking him all the way in again. The faces he made, the sounds that fell from his lips—there was a power in it, an intimacy that took her breath away.

  When she drew him out, he gave her a wink and he returned the favor, flipping positions and regaining control. She let him take it, totally getting off on him towering over her, spreading her legs into a V.

  He moved inside the divide, holding her ankles steady as he drilled into her molten core, their skin slapping as he crashed in and out, his face scrunched in ecstasy. As his thrusts picked up speed and his grip on her ankles added gasps of pain to the building passion, she knew she was close.

  She brought her hand to her center and spread the lips of her heat. She found her bundle of nerves, already a swollen knot, throbbing in time with his steady movements. She took the pad of her quivering fingers and rubbed the tiny swell inside her, her hands a blur that sent a stampede of raw pleasure shooting out of every nerve of her body.

  “Jesus,” she gasped, the sublime passion becoming tingles of delight that engulfed her. She felt so light headed, dizzy with rapture, full of the glory of their carnal dance. She was so close to climax that she felt its freeing touch begin at her toes. They curled and she began to buck upward wildly, needing him to gore her with his cock.

  He said the words and hers were the same. They were coming, together. Their howls were so loud that she was surprised the whole building, the whole world wasn’t caught up in their orgasm.

  She clutched his ass, feeling the rigid lock of his
muscles as his thrusts slowed and he rocked into her one last time before he pulled out and sunk onto the bed beside her.

  Now, Simone usually endured the awkward conversation. The guy would maybe make a joke, or try to put words to what just happened unnecessarily. Or fall asleep.

  But what she’d just done with Mark, sleeping with a guy that she barely knew, was completely unchartered territory. She had no idea what was next. Would he make up some phony excuse to get out of bed, some reason why they needed to part ways?

  “So, uh,” she began nervously. It was probably a little late for the butterflies that danced over her bare flesh, considering they’d just done the most intimate thing two people could do. “If you want me to go-”

  “Go?” Mark scoffed. He reached out with a muscular arm and drew her to his chest. He breathed in and out, like he’d finally found his nirvana. “This is what I want.”

  Simone knew she was smiling like a dummy, but she couldn’t help it. If you would have told her that when she got rear ended this afternoon she’d end up falling for the guy behind the wheel, she wouldn’t have believed it. If you would have told her that she would end up in his bed, she definitely would have had a few choice words to share.

  He lifted her chin up and laid a kiss on her that put every other kiss she’d experienced to shame. It was a kiss that songs were written about, that was almost over in a blink of an eye, a heartbeat, but the repercussions of it rippled across Simone’s body. She’d thought he was just trying to be a romantic when he’d said he was glad they’d met, but now she knew it was true. Mark crashing into her was the best thing that ever happened to her.

  He pecked her forehead and let out a yawn. “So I don’t have filet mignon, but I make killer scrambled eggs.”

  She grinned up at him. “That sounds delicious. “

  ###

  About the Author

  Violet Williams is an erotica writer living in Greater Sacramento, saving the world via erotic tales…one e-reader at a time.

  Connect with her online: http://violetwilliamserotica.wordpress.com