by Anne, Betsy
Our meal lasts two and a half hours. That’s not counting the first thirty minutes of talking, and the last twenty about how wonderful everything was. I want to see the check so badly; I know this place must be pricy based on what we ate and drank. I honestly have no idea how much money those officers make, but this must have been quite a whopper for a first date. It’s been years since I’ve been concerned about how much something cost. My circle in New York never looked at checks, we just paid them without a thought about the amount. A small pang of guilt hits me in the gut.
“Can we go Dutch?” I ask as I make a reach for my purse. Oh no, he looks insulted. “I just mean that we mutually decided to go to dinner after the game, so I should do my part.”
“Rebecca, please. I wanted to take you on a real date. This isn’t two buddies sharing pitchers of beer,” he says as he pulls out large bills from his wallet. He stands, indicating that he doesn’t need change, and escorts me out of the restaurant.
The temperature has dropped considerably while we were eating, and a blast of Lake Michigan air hits us in the face. He instinctively pulls me in close, and wraps both arms around me. Thankfully, we were able to park close and don’t have a far walk. After walking about twenty feet, he abruptly steps in front of me, and grabs my face. My hair is swirling around us like a red tornado. He pulls me in close, and gives me just a hint of a kiss. His lips are warm and inviting. I try to lean in for more, but he turns and leads me to the car. He opens my door for me, and then sprints around to get in himself. We both take deep breaths once we’re in the quiet. I see him squeeze his eyes, just for a moment, as he lets out a long exhale and his entire body relaxes. Not me, my body is on high alert, and I don’t want it to relax. I feel like crawling over into his lap and tasting his sweet mouth again.
“Ready?” he says as he starts up the engine.
Drat. I thought we were going for a teenage car make-out session. Steamy windows and clothes strewn all over the backseat.
“Um, sure,” I say as I pull on the seatbelt. I think he can sense my disappointment; I see the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
“Not here, Rebecca, you deserve better.”
I feel like saying, “No, I don’t!”, but I assume the role of the sophisticated woman, and smile back.
We listen to soft rock on the drive home, and keep the talking to a minimum. Even on a first date, at some point you just get talked out. I’m glad we hit that wall at the same time. When we arrive at my place, he pulls up to the front instead of finding a parking space in the lot. I guess this means he doesn’t want to come up. Shit.
“Would you like to come in? I have some wine or I could make some coffee.” Of course, everyone knows the universal translation for that means, “Would you like to come up for some hot sex?”
He doesn’t say anything. He opens his door and walks around to my side to open mine. He grabs my hand and we walk to my door.
“I would love nothing more than to come in and extend our date, Becca, but not tonight,” he says as he touches my face again.
I feel a powerful need coming from him, and I know my body is sending out the same signal. He encircles me in his arms, pulls me in and places his head against the side of my neck. I feel him smell me, which elicits a deep moan. I feel it hum throughout his body, and it makes me shiver.
“Are you cold?” he asks without moving his head away from me.
Hardly.
“No, what you’re doing just feels incredible. I guess my body was saying ‘thank you’.”
He moans into my neck again, and slowly raises his head and looks me in the eye.
“You have no idea how much I’d love to come up and crawl into your warm bed with you, Rebecca, I just can’t. I want to take it slow if that’s OK.”
His body is sending every possible signal to the contrary, but I hear his message loud and clear. He’s attracted, but not interested. I get it.
“It’s all right, Wickham. I understand,” I say as I take a step back to put some distance between our bodies. “Thank you for a lovely dinner. Have a safe week at work,” I say, sounding somewhat bitchy. This isn’t the first time I’ve been out with a guy who was just interested in me as a pretty face. I’m a model; it comes with the territory. I’m just surprised that he feels that way, I really thought we had a different connection. It feels much more real. I would have never put him in that category of men. Of course, those guys make a rush for the bedroom, and he’s backing away from it. I guess he’s not interested in any of it.
“What’s the matter? You seem different,” he says as he looks at me confused.
I didn’t think I was being very subtle.
“I get it, Wick, OK? I thought we had a connection, but I guess I was wrong. You can’t slow down from something that hasn’t even started.”
He takes my hands, and wraps them around his waist as he pulls me in.
“All I meant is that I do feel a connection to you, Rebecca. I have since the first time I ever laid eyes on you. I don’t want to screw it up, I’ve been known to do that.”
A small hint into his personal life: He rushes into sex and it hasn’t worked out. Well, that’s a relief.
“Oh, I’m really sorry. I just misread the signals. OK, we can take it at whatever speed you need. Thanks again for dinner, I really enjoyed spending the day with you; you’re a great guy,” I’m hesitant to lean in for a kiss; I don’t know what he wants now.
I let him take the lead.
He seems happy with my response, and he hugs me tightly. He maintains our hug as he pulls his head back to look at me. He leans in for a kiss, and I respond. It begins slow, and small. He teases my lips with his warm tongue, and it sends jolts of electricity straight to my crotch. This whole waiting thing may be harder than I anticipated. I place my hands in his hair and pull him in hard. We don’t have to have sex tonight, but I am kissing the man whose full lips I’ve been fantasizing about all day. He returns the passion, and our mouths and tongues frantically try to find some sort of release. After a couple of minutes of soul-ravaging kissing, my head is spinning and my legs feel like wet noodles.
We separate to catch our breath. His face is sweaty, and he’s breathing heavily. I know my makeup has to be all over my face by now, and I probably look like a drunk raccoon. Without the prospect of sex, kissing like that is the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced. I’ve been with guys who might kiss you once or twice before diving right in. This is definitely underrated.
“Will you call me tomorrow? I’ll be around the station, so whenever you can talk, I should be free,” he says as he strokes my face one last time for the night.
My brain is scrambled, so I’m lucky to squeak out, “sure,” before he turns to leave. He blows me a kiss as he gets into the car, and I watch him drive away. Holy moly. My body feels electrified. I wander around my home jittery and unfocused as if I’ve had too much coffee.
I’m aroused. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this turned on before. I crawl into bed with good intentions of sweet dreams, but my body defies me. As soon as I shut my eyes, there he is: his beautiful face and that tall, strong body. I can still feel his large hands on my back, and caressing my face. The way he pressed my body against his, and hummed into my neck. The heat coming from between my thighs is too much. My hand reaches down and grabs my clitoris and folds with force. A huff of air escapes my lips as my body senses a release. I could orgasm with ease right this minute, but I want it to linger, the way he and I were lingering on the porch.
My hand alternates between forcefully squeezing and gently rubbing my aching pussy. The heat and wetness of my crotch fuel my fire, and my hand begins to move faster. My other hand is on my breast, squeezing and pulling at my nipple as I fantasize about his warm lips sucking them. They’re slick with sweat, and I reach my long tongue down to taste the saltiness of my nipple. That sends a strong signal to my pussy, and I put two fingers inside the warm wetness to ease the throbbing.
; I feel my pussy start to quiver and my orgasm rises from deep inside my body. I pinch my nipple harder and I scream as my pussy tightens around my hand, imagining what his hard dick must feel like. I come hard, and it continues to rise in intensity as I picture his strong body over mine, pumping away and releasing his load into me. I turn my face over into the pillow so I can scream louder without a neighbor calling the police.
My climax slowly begins to wane, and I keep my hand firmly in place. I imagine that he’s satiated and resting inside me. I fall into a deep, wonderful sleep.
I wake shivering in sweaty sheets, and my body is clammy. I look at the clock, and see that I’ve had a nice two-hour nap. I get up to clean myself up, and throw on some warm pajamas before diving right back in. I fall back to sleep with his sweet, smiling face staring back at me in my mind.
Chapter 8
“So? How was it?” Mel starts in immediately when I walk through the door. I had promised I would help her with Christmas decorating today. There are boxes stacked up to her elbows, I may have offered too soon. This will take until Christmas Day to get everything up.
“It was great,” I say with a coy smile thinking about him.
“Well, it shows! You’re positively radiant! Did he stay at your place or did y’all go to his?”
“He didn’t come in. We said goodbye at the door.”
She stops what she’s doing, and looks shocked.
“Are you kidding me? The two of you were practically spilling pheromones all over the place yesterday. He was ogling you the entire time. There’s no way you two didn’t hook up. I can see it in your face; you had sex last night. You’re lying,” she accuses.
“Well, I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy myself …”
“I knew it! Did y’all do it in the car?” She laughs at her own humor.
“No, it was after he left,” I say, and I feel my cheeks start to flush. Damned that snow-white skin of mine.
“OK, too much information! Why didn’t he stay? Was dinner OK?”
I savor the memory of it all before I speak.
“Dinner was wonderful. I’ve never been to a more romantic place with a more romantic man in my life. He’s amazing, Mel. I could really fall hard for him.”
“Help me understand why he didn’t come in, though. You’re both consenting adults. I mean, why not?”
“We want to take it slow.” I know she won’t buy the “we” part coming from me.
“We or he?”
“Look, Mel, just because I’ve been quick to jump in bed before, doesn’t mean I can’t wait. He is so respectful and sweet. The way he kissed and held me …” I feel my train of thought go off the rails, as the memory of our saying goodnight fills my brain.
“When are you seeing him again? I need to know how long I’ll have to be around you all pent up with frustration.” She laughs again.
I throw an oversized Santa head pillow at her.
“See? Violence isn’t the answer, sister, sex is,” she says as Brian walks in the room holding Lou, who is just up from her nap.
“I don’t know what the question was, but I’ll have to agree with you, my love,” Brian says to Mel as he approaches her. He hands a wiggly Lou off to me, and grabs Mel butt as he kisses her deeply.
“Get a room, you two.”
“At least we’d know what to do in it!” Mel says, as Brian looks confused.
“I don’t get it. How was the date, Bec?”
“It was great, Brian. Thank you for asking. Your crude wife thinks that just because we didn’t have sex on the first date something must be wrong,” I say, only half-kidding. Mel is starting to make me feel a little paranoid about the whole situation.
“Don’t listen to her, Bec. He seems like a nice guy, there are a few of us left. Don’t read too much into it. And you,” he adds, picking Melanie up and throwing her on his shoulder where he proceeds to give her a hard smack on the rear, “mind your own business, or there will be more where that came from.”
He lowers her back down, and her hair is wild.
“Promise? Later?”
Brian smiles and proceeds to pack a diaper bag. He’s taking Lou and the boys out for the afternoon so Mel and I can get this project done.
A few hours later, the house looks incredible. She and I worked hard and got everything up except the tree. They’ll do that as a family. She’s hired someone to put the lights up outside, so she’s done. Brian doesn’t have time during the home stretch of the regular season to help, so she’s grateful for my assistance.
We sit down to eat some sandwiches, and she pours us a couple of full glasses of wine.
“Thanks so much, Becca. That would have taken my procrastinating butt a full week to do alone. Listen, I was just kidding earlier. I think it’s great that he wants to take it slow. I think it shows real maturity on his part,” she says, as she ravenously digs into her food. “Most guys that age couldn’t care less about getting to know you first. So, tell me about him? Where’s he from?”
“I think so, too. I had the same reaction, or overreaction if I’m being honest, that you did when he said that to me. He explained that he’s rushed sex in the past, and things didn’t work out well. He didn’t say much else, but he seemed genuine about it, like it’s something he didn’t just decide right then and there.
“I didn’t really learn much else except that he went to college to play baseball. His parents live in the suburbs, and he has one slightly older brother who also played baseball. That’s it. I told him absolutely everything about me. I felt guilty for talking so much, but he kept asking questions. He doesn’t like to talk about himself very much.”
“So how did you leave things? Did you make plans to go out again soon?”
“Oh, shit! I was supposed to call him at the station today. Maybe I can run by on my way home. Do you think that’s too forward? Should I just call instead?”
“Becca, you’re a grown woman, and he’s a grown man. No games. If you want to stop by, then stop by. I’m sure he’d love to see you. I can’t imagine how boring those stations must be at times. It’s getting late, why don’t you get going,” she says as she stands to walk me out. “Besides, my husband will be home soon and I may deserve another spanking!”
I roll my eyes, and give her a big hug.
The station is only two turns out of my way home, but I’m sure I can make an excuse. Mel is right, though, I just want to see him and I should be honest about it.
I see his black Jeep Wrangler parked at the first spot in the lot. My stomach does a flip. The sun is almost down, but it’s not yet dinner time. The lights are on, and I can see people through the windows. I stand still and try to catch a glimpse of him. I crane my neck, and peek in every window but no Wick. That’s when I’m startled within an inch of my life.
He comes up behind me and whispers, “Hi, gorgeous,” in my ear. I twirl around, arms flailing, just missing hitting him right in the nose. His eyes are wide with surprise, and he laughs.
“That’s not very smart to do to a woman who’s lived in New York. You’re lucky I didn’t have my pepper spray out!” I huff, but he continues to laugh at my reaction.
“I’m sorry, sweet girl. I really didn’t mean to frighten you. I was coming from the barber across the street, and caught a glimpse of the most beautiful red hair. I knew it was you; I’ve had dreams about this hair,” he reaches up and runs his fingers through the underside of my hair.
His voice calms me down, but his fingers in my hair revs me up. I must control these reactions if we’re going to take things slow.
“What were you looking for?” He smiles, knowing exactly what I was looking for.
“Well, I’m thoroughly embarrassed, but I was looking for you. I saw your car, but I wanted to make sure you were here. I got busy with Melanie today, and I forgot to call. I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK, really. I was hoping to hear from you, but this is an even better surprise. Come, let’s go inside.”
H
e smells like barbershop powder, which I never realized until this very moment how much I love.
It’s a quiet afternoon at the station, so he gives me the grand tour, including the fire trucks. He’s especially proud of these.
“When I transferred from the city, this baby was brand new,” he says, banging on the side of a gleaming blue and white fire truck. “I love this job.”
He looks genuinely happy, and it warms my heart.
“Want to see inside?” He hops up on the side, and pops open the large door. He helps me climb into the back of the cab, and then climbs in and over me to the seat behind the driver’s seat. For such a large guy, he’s incredibly limber.
There is equipment in every possible nook. It’s surprisingly large: Four people could fit back here easily. He gets on his knees in front of where I’m sitting, and takes my hands in his.
“Thank you for coming to see me,” he says, kissing the back of my hand, “I was really beginning to miss you. I had a great time yesterday.”
He peeks out the window, judges it to be all clear, and pulls me down to meet him for a kiss. His hands dig deeply into my hair, as he teases me with his mouth. He’s very slow and measured, taking his time to allow the kiss to do its magic. I open my eyes, and see that he’s watching me. We break our connection, and he holds my face as he gazes into my eyes. We stay like this for the briefest of moments, but the feeling is intense. I feel like I’m falling down a well, and I have no desire to grab on to anything to stop the fall.
“Can I come by your place tomorrow? I’m off early, and I’d love to cook dinner for you,” he says, all the while not breaking the intensity of our visual bond.
“I have a meeting with my agent at four, but it shouldn’t take very long. I’d love for my kitchen to be used for something other than heating up takeout leftovers. Thank you, Wick.”
