“Thank you that’s really kind. I got you some bottles of Bud if you want that instead?”
“Great, thanks.”
“It’s just in the kitchen, come on through.” He followed me to the kitchen where the food was all prepped and the table was set. “Do you like fajitas?”
“I love fajitas.”
“Well, it’s kind of deconstructed fajitas. There are no wraps but we have chips.”
“You can’t go wrong with chips.”
Oh, he is so perfect. We’re so meant to be.
I reached into the fridge and got a bottle of Bud. I had a careful job getting them from the aisle of the store to the taxi and into the house. I didn’t want them to be too shaken up for when I opened one for him, resulting in my good dress being drenched in beer. Although a good excuse to take off my dress and show off my underwear, I needed a glass of wine first.
Success. The bottle did not explode in my hand.
“Here you go.” I handed him the bottle.
“Thank you.”
I opened the bottle of wine and poured myself a modest sized glass. I would be taking small sips before I had any food. I need a level head if I’m cooking chicken. We can’t have our third date being a disaster too because we wound up with food poisoning. I only have one toilet, we can’t risk it.
We clinked our drinks and toasted an interruption free evening.
We both stood next to each other in the kitchen, not knowing quite what to do with ourselves. We weren’t restricted by being out in a bar or restaurant. We weren’t in a car on a cat rescue mission. It was just me and him. Alone. No interruptions. Well, besides the attention seeking cat of course who had found his new best friend.
“Why don’t you see to your new buddy and I’ll get started on food?”
“As much as I like him, I’d rather stay and help you cook.” He gazed at me in a way that almost made me melt on the spot. “Do you need me to do anything?”
Take me. Take me now.
“Erm, not really,” I had to look away before I completely combusted, “it’s just the chicken that needs cooking.” I smiled at how organised I had been today with very little time to prepare. I had managed to do the food shop, come back and give the house a thorough clean, prepped the food and then showered and made myself presentable. A dutiful wife in the making. My mother would probably think my domestic Goddessness was all down to her but, in all honesty, I had recently started watching Desperate Housewives on Amazon Prime and getting my tips from Bree.
The chips were already in the oven being baked to perfection and the chicken would not take long to cook. I grabbed the pyrex bowl from the fridge where the chicken had been marinating in olive oil and fajita mix. The spicy smell filled the kitchen once I opened the fridge door.
“Where’s the pan?” he asked.
“Just in that cupboard there,” I pointed to the cupboard next to the oven, “the wok will do. Thanks.”
He had to bend down to reach to get it so I had a sneaky stare at his bum which looked edible in those jeans. I think he could wear a suit of body armour and make it look sexy.
He placed it on top of the cooker and I appeared next to him with the bowl of chicken and switched on the hob. He didn’t move from beside me. It was very off putting. I was scared I was going to drop the bowl. There can’t be any disasters this evening though, so I put the chicken straight in to the pan. It wasn’t hot enough yet, but I was.
“It’s just erm, it won’t take long to cook.” I kept my eyes on the chicken.
“Good.” I could feel his eyes on me. I had tingles in my neck. Down my spine. Travelling down my legs and into my toes. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.
I dared to look up. He was so close to me. The anticipation was quickly building in my body. I was being pulled to him, like a magnet, and he wasn’t pulling away. Instead, his hand gripped my waist and he pulled my body up against his as we kissed. It was different to when we kissed outside the taxi rank. That was a kiss of reassurance, that we weren’t over. This was a kiss to show that we were just beginning, and that the best was yet to come.
I threw my arms around his neck as both of his hands held me and moved around my body. The tingles were out of control. They were sizzling. I could almost hear them. Hang on… that was the chicken. Dammit.
He heard it too.
“Turn it off.” He said through heavy breaths.
I did as I was told and turned off the hob and the oven. Food was not important. His hands never left my body.
“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked as I faced him again.
“Upstairs.”
We were moving. Kissing and moving. Out of the kitchen. Down the hallway. The kissing had to stop at the stairs, but the touching didn’t. I led the way up the stairs and he stayed close enough to keep his hands on my waist. As we reached my room, which had also been thoroughly cleaned, I closed the door in case Bing tried to make it a ménage à trois.
Zack found the zip on the back of my dress and slowly pulled it down just as I undid the remaining buttons on his shirt. I put my hands on his bare chest as he took his hands off my dress to take his shirt off fully. I opened my eyes to look at him, to take him in. There weren’t any faults on his perfect physique. He was flawless. I wanted to lick his chest, but I was not sure what he would think to that.
His hands returned to my dress that he could easily slip off now it was undone. He wasn’t shy about looking at me. With the pressure I felt pushing against my hip, I could tell that he liked what he saw too. It became even clearer when he slipped his jeans off.
As we fell to the bed, I started to worry. Thinking back over my bad luck with men, I didn’t want this to go wrong. It had to be perfect. I was having flashbacks to my rendezvous with James and the last time with Dan. It had all gone so wrong. What if this ends up a disaster too?
His hands moved down my body, followed by his lips which were kissing me all the way down to the top of my knickers. I am so glad I checked that my bikini line was looking good. He slipped my knickers down and carried on kissing me, teasing me. I was so turned on, he could touch me with a feather and I would be done.
As he moved his way back up to my face, I realised he had sneakily pulled down his boxers too. My legs instinctively opened, eagerly awaiting what would come next. This is it. This is what I’ve been waiting for, dreaming about, fantasizing about. What if it’s no good? What if he is another James?
That’s the thing about moments. They have the ability to surprise you. Have you ever been so excited about something that you couldn’t wait for it to happen? The build-up of anticipation and tingles where a single touch would make you explode in a world of pleasure.
This, I am pleased to say, was one of those moments.
It was pleasure that I had never felt before. Explosions, fireworks. I had never had it so good. And it had never repeated for me before, I thought that was a myth. Once on the bottom and then again when we rolled so I could be on top. Fate had been saving this experience for me, so I could have it with my perfect guy. Zack. My Zack.
We laid alongside each other. I was tucked into his nook and he held me tightly. I could smell his sweat mixed with his aftershave which created a whole new kind of aroma that I wanted bottled up. I’m not sure how long we laid with each other, but we were interrupted by the sound of grumbling bellies.
“Hmm,” he moved slightly so he could kiss the top of my head, “I think that was my belly.”
“I think it was both of our bellies, telling us they want feeding. I think the chicken will be ruined now though.”
“True, I am hungry though.”
“I might have something in the freezer we could have.” It wouldn’t be as exciting as my spicy chicken and chips tea, but anything would do. I was starving. I’d not had much to eat all day because of my nerves putting me off, but now I had relaxed I could eat a horse.
I moved closer to him to take in more of his smell. I couldn’t s
top smiling. Our date had been a success. No interruptions. No problems. It was absolutely perfect. Nothing could go wrong now.
“Is there anything you particularly fancy?” he asked.
“You’re the guest, we’ll look in the freezer and you can pick something.”
“Or we could just get a takeaway, less effort. Do you have a good Chinese near here?”
Dammit, so close.
Blind Date Page 15
