Nick

Loafers. Rayne said it tongue-in-cheek, but the little nickname grated on my nerves. I tried to hide my irritation behind a smile, which wasn’t that hard since I was pleased she’d agreed to go out with me.

“Tomorrow,” I agreed. With one last saucy smile, she disappeared inside.

I made my way back to the bar, lost in thought. I wasn’t myself when it came to Rayne and it was throwing me for a loop. My car was parked out front and as I reached it, I wondered what Rayne would think about it. It was a safe, reliable car.

Like you. Safe and reliable.

I frowned at the thought as I got in the car and started it up. What’s wrong with being dependable? I asked myself.

Nothing. As long as that doesn’t translate to boring.

I shoved the annoying voice to the back of my head as I pulled out of the parking lot and drove toward home. Instead, I focused on the plan for my date. I decided to take her to a little French restaurant in Nashville.

It had been a long fucking day, so when I got home, I practically fell into bed.

* * *

French mousse was suddenly at the top of my favorite dessert list. I licked it off Rayne’s stiff nipple and then did the same to the other. She moaned and her chest lifted toward my mouth. Damn. I didn’t think I could get any fucking harder.

Rayne wrapped her long legs around my waist, the heels of her boot digging into my ass.

“Nick! Fuck me, now!” she commanded.

“Whatever you want, baby,” I growled before lining my cock up with her dripping pussy and driving inside until I was fully seated. “So fucking tight,” I gritted through clenched teeth. It was taking every bit of my self-control to hold back my orgasm.

She bared down with her inner muscles and I groaned in part pleasure, part pain. Slowly, I started moving, but Rayne was impatient and lifted her hips to meet mine, trying to quicken my pace.

I wanted to savor our first time together but when she whispered something dirty in my ear, it set me off. Next time, I vowed.

I gave in to the overwhelming need and began to slam into her over and over. The bed shook with the force of it, the headboard banging into the wall. Rayne screamed my name—

“What the fuck!” I shouted as I startled awake, my body drenched in sweat and my cock painfully erect. I flopped back down on the bed, panting and yelling a string of obscenities in my head. I’d been so close…

Sitting back up, I snarled several of those curses aloud and stomped into my bathroom. I stepped into the shower and turned it on at its coldest setting.

“Son of a bitch!” I roared. The icy streams stung as they hit my overheated skin. After a time, my hard-on finally deflated and I hopped out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I glared at my bed. It was eight-thirty on a Saturday morning, but I wasn’t keen on a repeat of the dream and definitely not the shower.

Instead of going back to sleep, I dressed for a day at home, shorts and a casual polo with flip-flops. I went to my office and pulled out the case files I’d brought home. Sitting at my beautifully refurbished, antique, oak desk, and popped my black-rimmed reading glasses on and poured over the details.

Eventually, my stomach growled and broke my concentration. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was already four. I’d worked the whole day away.

Standing, I tossed my glasses onto the desk and stretched. I headed into my partially finished kitchen and made myself a sandwich to tide me over until dinner. As I ate, I looked around at the space and pictured what it would look like when the cabinets were painted, the wood floor was refinished, and the appliances replaced.

We’d installed all new plumbing, pushed out a wall to create a breakfast nook, and replaced all of the light fixtures. Cooking was something I enjoyed. My mother had taught me, informing me that would need these skills so I wouldn’t starve when I moved out. She also assured me that my future wife would appreciate it.

I wondered briefly what Rayne would think about the kitchen and if she knew how to cook. Well, I’d find out soon because I’d already decided not to let her stay in that hole in the wall apartment in town. Nor would she be walking anywhere alone at night. Just the thought of something happening to her caused my breath to get stuck in my lungs.

This whole thing was crazy. Did I really believe in love at first sight? The boom, as Nico had called it. I wasn’t ready to answer that question. For now, all I was willing to admit was that I needed Rayne.

I headed to my closet to get dressed but found myself hesitating before pulling a dress shirt off of its hanger. I pictured Rayne, her rugged style, and confident attitude. Then I thought about the restaurant I had chosen, and I realized I was acting like a complete asshat. An idea for a new date started forming in my head. One where I could have Rayne all to myself.

I’d never broken the mold I was raised in, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t considered it. I decided to step out of my comfort zone. Tonight was as good a night as any to explore the me hiding inside. And, I had a feeling that if I truly wanted to keep Rayne, I would need to open up and be real with her.

That meant letting her see the boring parts of me (because let’s face it, I’m still me) as well as the parts I’d kept locked up.

Spinning around, I marched to my dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans. My friends had given them to me as a joke, but now I was glad I’d kept them. Once I put them on, I added a belt and went looking for a T-shirt.

I scanned the racks of neatly organized clothes and realized that the only T-shirts I owned were ratty and old, the ones I used when working on the house.

I grabbed a blue polo and threw it on, but left it untucked. As far as casual footwear, (I certainly wasn’t wearing loafers) I only had my flip-flops, which seemed a little too surfer boy. Then I remembered, I had a pair of deck shoes from the summer before when I’d taken sailing lessons while on vacation.

I slipped them on, then took a look at myself in the mirror. It was a more laid-back guy than usual, but it was still me.

Before I could second-guess anything, I headed for the entry where I grabbed the keys to my Civic. I walked out to the garage and stopped, staring at the truck. For what I planned, it was the more appropriate vehicle. It was old but in good condition. I’d detailed, washed, and waxed it after I got it home.

Jogging back to the house, I swapped out my keys and returned to the garage. I hopped into the truck and slowly backed out before doing a three-point turn and heading into town.

I parked in front of the building where I’d left Rayne the night before and got out of the truck. However, before I could get to the door, she’d already come outside.

We gave each other a once over and she cocked her head to the side as her eyes returned to my face.

“Quite a different look for you, Loafers.”

“Um, I could say the same…You look fucking gorgeous, baby,” I murmured after clearing my throat and shifting my stance. It was suddenly extremely uncomfortable in my pants, but it would be way too obvious to adjust myself at the moment.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She was wearing skin-tight jeans, wedgey-sandal type shoes, and a black, long-sleeved lace top over a red tank. Her hair hung long and straight down her back and her makeup was subtler than the night before. When she turned to lock her door, I almost fell to my knees at the sight of her spectacular ass in those jeans. I couldn’t fucking wait to get my hands on them.

“I would have guessed that last night was your version of casual,” she said with a smirk.

“What can I say, baby?” I shrugged, forcing my gaze to return to face. “I’m unpredictable.” My inner voice laughed hysterically at the statement, but I ignored it.

I held out my hand. “Let’s get going.”