by Sarah Cole
“Hey, pretty girl.” He says, pulling me into a tight hug, and oh my gosh, he smells so good. Like heaven and Armani, and my fantasies of what every book boyfriend I’ve ever had are made of. He lets go, and only after a second to I realize I’m still clinging to him like a wet tankini.
“Hi.” I squeak as I unwrap my body from his.
“That was a warm welcome.” He chuckles softly, tucking my hair behind my ear. And cue the swoon. Normally I’d slap the hand away like a fly at a picnic. No one touches the hair. I mean, I’m a beauty editor, so the hair and the makeup are like my walking resume. Who am I? I don’t know because I just stand there speechless, and I am never speechless.
“I’m just excited for our date. Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise. Can’t tell you.” he taps me on the nose and I smile even wider. “But if we don’t hurry, we’re not going to make it in time.”
I grab my purse and jacket and he leads me down and out of the building to a nice new mustang waiting at the curb. He opens the door for me, and I sink into the soft seat. He walks around the front of the car, and I can’t help but admire the way he moves – full of confidence, but not cocky. He just moves like… a man.
“You have a car?” I marvel as Hunter slides in behind the wheel.
“It’s not mine. I stole it from the impound lot.” he deadpans and I feel my eyebrows disappear into my hairline. I realize he’s joking when his mouth begins to twitch, and I face palm. There’s a reason I won most gullible for my senior yearbook.
“Yes, I just got it. I moved and my apartment came with a parking space, and it’s something I’ve been waiting to do for a long time.” He says and I can hear the smile in his voice.
We settle into a comfortable conversation about work, and the drive is over before I know it as we pull up outside a row of buildings in Greenwich Village. The valet comes around to take the car while Hunter helps me out of the passenger side. We walk hand in hand towards the door, and only then to I realize where we actually are – Prose, a popular music and poetry club. I cock my head to the side looking up at him as he opens the door, and he glances down with a smile on his face.
We step inside and he speaks to the girl at the desk, but I can’t hear exactly what he’s saying over the sound of the band playing inside, but after a second she leads the way to a table towards the front that has been reserved. After giving our drink order to an overly boobsy waitress, Hunter scoots his chair around the little round table so we are sitting side by side and he puts his arm around me.
“I haven’t had the chance to tell you how beautiful you look tonight.” He says into my ear, his warm breath tickles and sends a shiver down my neck.
“Thank you.” I say leaning into him as boobsy Bunny – (yes, our waitress’s name is Bunny) brings our drink order over. She leans over practically shoving her boobs in Hunter’s face and rubbing all over him. He doesn’t give her the time of day, but the clenching of his jaw tells me he’s very uncomfortable.
“Hey, Bunny?” I grab her attention with a smile, and she temporarily stops her mini lap dance warm up to send me a hateful look.
“Hmm? What can I get you, sweetie?” she asks in a saccharine voice that sounds like she sucked the valve off a helium tank.
“Well, sweetie…” I start, taking a cleansing breath and gearing up for a verbal cat fight. I don’t do this often, because quite frankly just the thought of confrontation makes my armpits sweat. For that, I’m super grateful I chose the stress protection deodorant for tonight. “For one, you can remove your Humpty Dumplings from the back of my date’s head before you hurt your back trying to bend over like that. And two, save yourself future trouble and embarrassment by not trying to hit on someone who is clearly with someone. Just some helpful girl to girl advice.” I wink, laying it on thick and her face turns a concerning shade of red as she straightens her back, buttons another button on her blouse and walks away without a word.
I can’t meet his eyes, but when I hear the slow laughter escape him, I’m able to finally look up from my lap.
“I’m sorry. You just looked really fucking uncomfortable. Plus, it was rude of her.” I say, and he laughs harder, but honestly, I’m just embarrassed that I said something out loud.
“Don’t apologize. I appreciate your rescue, and honestly that was the funniest thing that has happened to me all week. You have this amazing talent for making me laugh.” His eyes sparkle as he squeezes my now silky smooth knee underneath the table, and it brings back those little butterflies.
“Oh, I should apologize, because I’m not usually catty like that. I just… it just made me mad.”
“And it was adorable. Your face got all red and you looked terrified to say anything – helps me to see that bitchiness isn’t the norm for you.” he chuckles, and I’m glad he finds it cute, but I’m still slightly mortified at my behavior.
Right before the lights dim, a new, fully dressed waitress comes to check on us, and an eccentric looking man in a bow tie takes the stage. He taps the microphone several times waiting for the crowd to settle down, “Tonight we have a couple very special guests reading some of their original work. Nancy Plates will be reading a compilation of poems from her new book, Reborn, and Raul Panzano will be reading from his new book, I Am Only a Man. But first, we have a new poet, who wishes to make his debut and read a couple original poems for the beautiful woman he says he’s trying very hard to impress.” The audience laughs, and I sigh along with every other hot-blooded poetry loving female in the room. It really is sweet that Hunter thought to bring me here, because I know this can’t be what he likes to do.
The spot light turns to our table momentarily blinding me. The man on stage says, “Mr. Williams, come on up.” And I’m so confused. Hunter kisses the top of my head and jogs up the steps next to the stage, greeting the man with a friendly handshake as the room claps for him. Unfortunately, I’m still too stunned to move. He shoots me a wink from stage as he is handed the microphone and I can do nothing but stare at him with my pie hole agape.
“I think my girl is still trying to figure out what the heck is going on.” he chuckles, and the room joins in as he shows his ease in front of an audience. I just nod my head and he continues. “I know you have a very specific idea in your head of what your dream guy looks like, Verity. I also know that I’m not really anything like that guy, but I will tell you that I’ll try like hell to be everything that you need if you let me.” He says, but he’s looking directly at me. I’d like to say that it’s just a line he spun, but the look of absolute sincerity on his face kind of takes me by surprise. I feel my cheeks heat as the audience stares at me. I’m easily embarrassed, if you haven’t gathered that by now.
Hunter pulls some folded slips of paper from his pocket and clears his throat dramatically, “Now bear with me, folks. Don’t be too critical because this is my first time ever even writing a poem.” The audience laughs again and gives him an encouraging round of applause, me included. I swear this man is turning me into a Peterson puddle.
He looks at me and begins and I have to stifle my laughter because it’s so funny, but so cute. “Roses are red, violets are blue, I admit I’m a terrible writer, but I can see myself falling in love with you.” The crowd claps and Hunter pretends to curtsy which makes me smile so wide my cheeks cramp.
“I have one more. I’ll admit that I’m not even sure if it’s even a real poem. I think it’s really more just my thoughts, but I did write it.” He steps off the stage, bringing his mic with him, and the spotlight follows as he makes his way back to our table. I feel like I’m going to pee my pants or have a heart attack. Is it natural for your heart to beat this quickly? It’s making me feel light headed for sure. That’s probably not good… or maybe it’s just the drink – it did taste a little strong. Hunter sits down beside me and reaches over, pulling me effortlessly into his lap where I feel his hard body beneath mine and I honestly couldn’t give two shits that we are in a room full of p
eople. I want to slide down this man like a fire pole. Oh, my goodness.
I didn’t think he was nervous, but now, I can feel how tense he is and see the slight tremble in his hands. The poor guy is terrified. He brings the mic to his lips again once he gets us settled, “This one is called, When I Found You.”
When I first found you, I’ll admit that I wasn’t so sure,
But when the first words fell from your lips, I knew.
I knew that you were a person with a fire inside,
And you captured my attention and had such an allure.
When I found you the second time, all I wanted was a chance.
A chance that you wouldn’t let your heart take because you have been hurt,
I waited for you to call, just wanting to hear your voice again
At the very thought of you or mention of your name, my heart began to dance.
The third time I found you, I knew that it was meant to be,
You looked too beautiful to be out in the cold alone,
I knew I had to make sure that you made it safely home.
I asked you for a date, and finally you agreed to take a chance on me.
When I found you the night of our first date, all I wanted to do was hold you tight.
You were everything that I could have imagined and more,
I never thought that I could find someone to whom I’m so perfectly matched,
When I found you, I’d never found anything that ever felt so right.
When I found you, I found the better part of me…
He switches off the microphone and shifts me so I am looking straight into his face and the poor man looks abso-fucking-lutely terrified. He wipes an errant tear that I hadn’t realized I shed from my face, and I mentally chastise myself. Keep your shit in check, woman. Before I even realize it, our mouths crash together like two drunk girls playing roller derby, and it might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
HUNTER:
My god, this woman can kiss. Her lips are like a Hoover vacuum and have my mind wondering with the possibilities, her smell-so fucking good, and the way she’s digging her fingers into my hair... No words. We finally pull apart when we hear the audience applauding and cat calling. I will never admit to how terrifying that experience was for me. Not the kissing. That I’m perfectly fine with, but the poetry, public speaking and displays of emotion- not so much. If it didn’t make Verity so happy, I would regret the fuck out of that. I spent all damn morning in the squad car writing that, and I thought Tanner was just about to revoke my man card, but every single word was true.
I’m going to be honest and say that I was just like Tanner not too long ago, maybe worse even, but when both of my brothers got married and started popping out babies with their wives, it’s all I could think about. I was jealous of what they had. I tried to change my ways, stop the partying and even tried out those dating apps, but nada. Nothing. Zilch. Until I found Verity that day at the Women’s March. I wish I could explain what it was about her that made me stop and take a second look, but I honestly think it was every little thing. I’d heard Tanner talk about his neighbor and the annoying shit he did to her and so on, but I never pictured her being a woman like Verity.
I pull her up to stand and leave the microphone on the table. I’m cutting this portion of the date short. I don’t care. I just want to be alone so I can talk to her. Ok, maybe talking will come later. I need to hold her and kiss her some more.
“Let’s go.” I say into her ear as I grab her soft, warm hand and pull her along behind me.
It takes all of my willpower to keep my eyes on the road, and get us safely back to my apartment. I know we skipped dinner, but I’ll feed her later. Right now, the only thing I’m feeding is this insatiable need I have for her. I fumble to unlock my door. Once inside, I pick her up and her legs automatically wrap around me. God, I love that feeling. She kisses me with those pouty lips and I’m done for.
She bites my lip as I ease her back onto the bed, but when I untie the belt at the waist of her dress, she stills. “Is this not ok?” I ask, and she gets a little shifty. I feel like she’s going to bolt, and right now I’m fighting the urge to bust out my handcuffs just to secure her to the bed. My god, it’s been months since I’ve had sex, and I’m teetering just on the edge of a crime drama plotline with where my thoughts are going. I just hope it isn’t too soon for her. I don’t want to jeopardize this by pushing too far.
“Are you sure?” I breathe into her ear.
“Yes. For sure. Certainly.” I lean back and cock an eyebrow at her. Thankfully she looks just about as nervous as I feel. I wonder if she’s a virgin? No…she can’t be. No one dresses up as a vagina or buys as many condoms as that girl did and still be a virgin…right? But she did say those were for work.
“Hunter, are you alright? You just kind of got this look on your face like you’re going to barf. You’re not going to barf, are you?” she asks nervously.
“No… no barfing.” I laugh nervously.
“What? You’re giving me a complex here.”
“Sorry. It’s just… are you a virgin?” I ask on a whisper like it’s a dirty word.
She looks a little shocked before one of her eyebrows raise, “Why? You got a thing for virgins?”
“No?”
“Why are you saying that like you’re not sure?”
Tread very carefully, Hunter. I mentally prep myself for my reply, “I’m not a sex snob. It doesn’t matter to me? I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to hurt you?”
“Yeah… I’m still hung up on why you are phrasing everything as a question. We may have to work on that.” She deadpans, but I see her little nose wrinkle and her lips twitch, and I know she’s kidding. Although, she’s right. It was pretty much a solid conversation worth of Ron Burgundy teleprompter mishaps.
“Just for the record, I’m not a virgin. So, march on soldier!” She says enthusiastically and smacks her forehead immediately, but since I’m still hovering above her, I plant a kiss on her nose.
“Verity, I have to say that this is without a doubt the most awkward foreplay of my life, but let it also be known, that I think I’m harder and more turned on than I have ever been in my life.” I admit, and it’s true. For whatever reason, this girl and her awkward silliness just does it for me.
I can’t take it anymore. I need to touch her, taste her, and hear her come undone. I lick along the seam of her lips, tasting the sweet taste of her chapstick. Reaching down with my target already in site like a heat seeking missile, I unfasten her sexy as sin pink lacy bra and have to thank Victoria’s Secret, or whoever the genius was that invented such a thing. I let my eyes roam lazily over this gorgeous woman beneath me, and can’t help but wonder how I got so lucky that she gave me a chance.
VERITY:
“What’s your favorite position?” I blurt out. He looks a little confused before his lips pull into a wide smile.
“I didn’t have one before, but now I’m pretty sure it’s going to be any way I can sink inside of you.”
“Oh, do you like to dirty talk?” Diarrhea of the mouth is what I have. I tend to talk when I’m nervous, and right now? Oh, I’m nervous alright. I’m about to get busy for the first time in I won’t disclose how long because it’s just embarrassing, and it’s with him…a guy who absolutely knows his way around a woman and looks like a Magic Mike version of a police officer. Dear God, if I make it through this without completely embarrassing myself, I promise I will pray more often and stop swearing as much. In Jesus’s name I pray, Amen! On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t be praying about pre-marital sex. Maybe I just need Jesus and a Sunday school lesson on abstinence.
“Umm. I’m not sure how I should answer that?” He seems to be just as confused by my questions as I am, but then I have a lightbulb idea. More ideas for my Between the Sheets column. Ding. Ding. Ding! Turning my awkwardness into genius since 1991, folks!
“I think if you’re with the right pers
on, it works…” he answers, trying to feel out if it’s appropriate. But let’s be honest, nothing going on right here is appropriate. We’re both practically naked and I’m asking questions like I’m doing some kind of kinky junior high newspaper article.
He leans forward, placing a sweet kiss to my lips and begins working his way down my neck, reaching up to palm my breast.
“Are you a boob guy?” I ask, hearing the tremble and breathiness in my voice.
“Verity, honey?” he asks against my heaving chest.
“Yeah?”
“Shut up, and let me make you come.”
“Yeah. OK. Good plan.” I say, and I feel him laugh against my skin blowing out little puffs of air, sending goosebumps over my body. It also sends a rush of heat other places. He licks along the top of my panties, and I think I might dissolve into a puddle of fuck me right now. Aaaand I’ve already broken my promise to God I made thirty-three seconds ago.
“Lift up, sweetheart.” He says with a devilish grin as he curls his long fingers around the elastic band at the top of my underwear. I lift my hips off the bed, and he slides them down over my hips and his eyes never leave mine, almost in challenge. Finally, he glances down and his eyes go wide.
“I like this.” He runs his fingers over my smooth, newly groomed skin. If only he knew the hell I went through to make this a dream and not a nightmare.
“Thank you?”
“Now are you the one posing everything as a question?” he smiles as he grips my hips and buries his face between my thighs.
Seriously though, the man knows what he’s doing, and before I know it he’s giving me a one-way ticket to pound town and I don’t think my life will ever be the same again. It’s not just about the way he’s handing his equipment; because believe me, he handles it with more skill than I’ve ever experienced. It is the way he’s looking at me and holding me right now while he’s sliding into me, hitting all the right spots. Hunter’s looking at me like I’m the most precious gift he’s ever been given and he’s going to take care of me. Maybe that’s how he looks at all the girls… I know that is my insecurity rearing its ugly head, and that insecurity is pleading with me to end whatever this is with him before my heart gets broken again. Although the other part of me, the strong, confident woman part, is begging me to let go and explore because I want to dig deeper into him and see if that sweet and tender look he’s giving me right now is his usual front, or if it is honest and just for me because I’m actually special.
