Not even the ball-shrinking cold froze my joy as I sat in my car. I was keyed up, tapping out a discordant drum solo on the dash with my fingers. Every time a car pulled into the lot, I darted a glance towards it, perking up like a startled mole; blinded by the light but still looking. I was waiting on Mia to arrive at the wine bar she’d chosen to meet at in downtown Madison. To say I was looking forward to seeing her was an understatement. Though I nurtured a deep-rooted fear that she’d stand me up. I wouldn’t put it past her. She’d trained me over the years with her rejection.

Sleep eluded me last night once I’d put the phone away. Somehow, I resisted the urge and didn’t send her any lewder texts. I knew I could get under the sheets with Mia. But that wasn’t enough. Not anymore. For the past few years, I lived in a hedonistic thrall, fucking anything and everything with a hole. Girl, guy. I didn’t discriminate. In the dark, most mouths felt the same. But I was dead inside, drifting from one sexual fix to another.

Now, I felt alive, crackling with energy and nourished by optimism. I was going to get under Mia’s skin, into her heart, and let her soul learn mine. It was about fucking time we handled what was between us like two mature adults. Instead of acting like scared teenagers heading off into the big bad world.

Waking up today felt like dreaming. After five fucking years, Mia was going on a date with me. In all that time, mostly during our brief romance at the end of high school, there’d been just one. That experience became the foundation of every date since. The ideal of what I wanted, and never found; a smoky dream drifting on the periphery of my life in tantalizing perfection.

We’d spent the whole day wrapped up in blankets in front of a fire at a bed and breakfast a couple towns over. We’d both been eighteen, and had been able to rent a room for the day. Just talking. Living. Loving.

That date had proved to me that what I felt for Mia was true. Even though it complicated the fuck out of life. I’d already signed away my future to Penn State. She was staying in Wisconsin. I knew that night, staring into her face and drinking up the happiness show showed me, that she was who I wanted to grow old with. At eighteen I’d known, and that truth hadn’t been shaken. Even as she’d pushed and shoved me.

Her denials of any sort of future with me excised chunks of my heart until I’d become a fucking Grinch with a heart way too small. The number of wounded women in my past shamed me. But Jo was right. If I wanted a fresh slate with Mia, I would need to make amends for my man-whore ways.

This was the beginning of a new chapter. If I didn’t fuck it up. If Mia didn’t turn skittish again.

I felt like a teenager again instead of the grown-ass man I was supposed to be. My brain was a tilt-a-whirl of what ifs, spinning around and around until I was dizzy with hope and dread.

Finally, at five minutes to the hour, a familiar black car pulled into the lot. Mia’s eyes connected with mine through the windshield as she slowed to a crawl, and then swung into a spot a few cars away.

Brushing my hand over my hair, I squinted in the side mirror, making sure I looked passable, and then climbed out. The cold didn’t deter me as I stood in the middle of the parking lot, hands stuffed in my jacket pockets, and watching Mia fumble around with her purse. Then the door opened and she stepped out. The hem of her jacket swished at her ankles, revealing a pair of catch me fuck me boots. Tight leggings gripped her plump thighs, and a sexy black shirt shimmered beneath the light. I should scold her for having her coat unzipped, but I enjoyed the view as she strode towards me. I wanted to grab her by the waist, haul her up, and feel the heels drill into my thighs as I jackhammered her into a wall.

She paused within arms distance. Her lashes fluttered as she looked down, avoiding my eyes. “Hi.”

Damn. This was awkward. I frowned and moved into her personal space. Tucking my fingers against her chin, I nudged her head up. “Hey, yourself.”

“Regi,” she whispered. What was she going to say? Don’t? This is wrong? Hell, no. I’d gotten this far, she wasn’t running again. Her plush garnet-red lips begged me to take a taste. Who was I to resist? I stole a kiss like a thief running away with a priceless treasure.

Her breath sputtered across my mouth, surprise granting me deeper access to her lips. And I took it. I kissed her like a man possessed, and put every ounce of love and angst I’d felt. My tongue slipped past her teeth, curled around hers, and staked a slippery claim.

I wouldn't let Mia get away this time.

If I had to chain her ass to the bed and fuck her into a coma 24/7, so be it.

She was mine.

It was about time she understood that.

**

Mia sat beside me on a low-backed velvet loveseat swirling a glass of wine. We each had a flight of tasters paired with chocolate truffles. The chocolate wasn’t nearly as delectable as my girl. My mouth still tingled from the kiss I’d laid on her. Her mouth was naked, and she hadn’t reapplied her lipstick. One kiss, and I had made her forget.

But her outfit was making me lose my train of thought. How many times had I eye-fucked her already?

Mia had poured herself into a form-fitting black top with a keyhole design. It was just enough of a tease that I found my attention drawn down to that little slice of flesh and the hint of her abundant cleavage. Damn. How was I supposed to hold a conversation when I wanted to hook my finger into that slit and pull it down?

“What do you think of this one?”

She could have been offering me coal I paid scant attention to the dessert. Dutifully I took a bite, allowing the chocolate and sea salt to melt over my taste buds. “It would be better with a kiss.”

Mia sank her teeth into the truffle and slanted me an arched look. “You already stole your kiss, you haven’t earned another one.”

She had me there. I flashed her a boyish grin.

She rolled her eyes and sipped her wine. “You think you’re so charming.”

“You can pretend to be immune, but I know you’re not.” I swished a dark burgundy red in my glass and then drew in a small sip. Chocolate and wine were suggested to enhance brain power. Not that it would help me right now. All I could think about was getting a taste of Mia’s coppery skin. Of sliding my hand over her ass, and watching her eyes glaze over as I fucked her. Better yet, spreading her thick thighs and getting her melting on my tongue.

“Mmm, and how do you know I’m not?” That look again. She’d perfected the crooked eyebrow.

“Because your hand is shaking.” I didn’t disguise my grin.

She blinked down at her trembling fingers and laughed despite herself. “Damn, you’re right.”

The ice broke between us, and so did the awkward tension. Suddenly it was just the two of us. How it was meant to be. Without walls or small talk. “Why are you nervous?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’ve never done this.” Her hips pivoted, and her body language changed. Before she’d been closed off, now with her knees pointing toward my thigh, she opened herself up to me.

My heart thumped in my chest, encouraging warmth to spread into my extremities. The toasty sensation was helped by the expensive wine in my gut.

“Not once?” I found it hard to believe that she’d never dated. I knew she didn’t want to date me, but I hadn’t realized she’d pushed everyone away.

It struck me as kind of lonely. Though, wasn’t I in the same boat? I fucked around, but didn’t date.

What a mess we’d made of each other.

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and tucked her into my side. She stiffened, preparing herself to pull away and shun me. Then she slowly allowed herself to relax in my arms.

“No,” she looked down into her glass with a subtle shake of her head. “You were my first and last date, Regi.”

“Oh, angel,” I said. I wanted to take her pain away and carry it for her. “Will you let me in one of these days, tell me what led you to think you could be an island?”

Her lashes trembled, and her wine-stained mouth twisted subtly as if she tasted something sour. “My dad.”

I knew he’d left when she’d been young. Did she blame herself for his abandonment? I stayed quiet, almost seeing the gears working in her head.

She crossed her legs and tried for a flippant tone. Underneath, though, was a chasm of unresolved hurt. “He wasn’t a great one when he was around. He could have been the spokesperson for how not to be a partner and father. They never married, but mom really wanted to. He wasn’t nice when he told her he’d never spend money on a ring for a woman like her.”

She hadn’t straightened her hair like she often did, and I stroked one of the midnight-black curls. Her next confession shocked me.

“My mom tried to kill herself after he left. I found her.” She didn’t look at me as she took a deep swallow of her wine.

I paused, absorbing the hurt she’d just shared with me. “You know that’s not your fault.”

“Sometimes I do. Other times I think about what she said afterward.” Her lips curled into a self-deprecating smile. “I was only nine.”

“Christ, Mia.” I pulled her close and buried my lips into her hair.

She closed her eyes and allowed me to hold her. “I have a world of hurt inside me, Regi. Are you sure you want on this crazy train?”

The shadows in her eyes expected me to pull away, and leave her bereft as her family had.

“I’m not going anywhere, angel. There is nothing you can do or say that will send me running. And even if you run, I’ll be right there behind you. Watching over you. Keeping you safe, and hoping you’ll let me in.”

Light reflected oddly in Mia’s eyes, the bistre-brown color as rich and varied as the mahogany table in front of us; a play of shadow and color that almost looked like the glimmer of tears.

She leaned close with the promise of a kiss shaping her lips. “You might just have to.”

Desire flamed through me, as potent as a morphine drip shaking up my senses. I’d gotten hooked on Mia young, and now that she was giving me a chance?

I didn’t want to quit her.