“Are you excited to see me?” Dan asks through the phone line, his deep voice sending thrilling little waves through my body.
“So excited.” I simper, leaning into the mirror of my bathroom and sweeping mascara across my lashes. We have a date tonight, and it’s his turn to choose the restaurant. It’s also our fifth official date and the night I finally plan to… you know. Screw his brains out.
Now, one would think that me being me, I would have let Dan in my pants the first night we met, but you would be wrong. Why? Because being with him felt so right. Because being with him feels… different. Wonderful.
Like he could just be “the one.” And I didn’t want to ruin it by hopping into bed with him on the first night. Besides, as Becky pointed out, if I bang him on the first date, he has nothing to look forward to later. Also, she didn’t use the term bang; I did. Her actual words were, and I quote: “Don’t be a whore, Janine.”
“I can’t wait to see this place you picked out.”
I also can’t wait to run my palms up that glorious chest of his and feel his full lips on mine. The coarse whiskers from his rugged five o’clock shadow running along my jawline. But I keep this little tidbit to myself. Too soon for phone sex, and all that…
“You won’t have to wait long.”
The doorbell chimes and, startled by the unexpected interruption—Dan’s not supposed to be here until six thirty—I screw the cap back on my mascara, laying it on the counter. Giving myself a once over and my hair a tussle, I throw on some sheer coral lip gloss for good measure and head towards the front door.
A wide grin crosses my face when I stick my eye in front of the peephole, immediately pulling the door open with a surprised, delighted gasp.
“Dan!”
I look him over from head to toe. He’s wearing a green and blue plaid flannel shirt under a navy fleece vest, the two top buttons open and collar gaping. My eyes are instantly riveted on the smooth expanse of collarbone. Holy shit, he’s good-looking.
He’s also an entire hour early for our date and wielding a giant brown paper bag of take-out from the Thai place down the block, and a bottle of red wine. I give the air a whiff. Mmm, yummy Thai.
Yummy Dan.
This man couldn’t be more perfect.
He hoists both the wine and Thai over as an offering. “I come in peace, and I come with food.”
Thrilled, I launch myself at him, planting a kiss on his mouth. “Bet your lips taste better than this food.” I remove the bag and wine from his hands. “I take it by the rations we’re staying in tonight?”
He nods with a wide grin. “We’re staying in, if that’s okay. I decided I didn’t want to share you with the general public just yet.” He steps over the threshold when I stand aside, giving him access to the foyer. I lead him to the kitchen, and he trails behind me, removing the vest on our way and tossing it over the arm of my couch. “Tonight, you’re mine.”
I set the bag of take-out on the counter.
Large hands circle my waist, my hands clutching the wine bottle. Rich, masculine scents fill my senses when he nuzzles my neck—fresh air and woodsy cologne that make me want to climb him like a tree. Sexy lumberjack Dan.
My hands rest on the counter in front of me now, his hands toying with the hem of my shirt. “I’ve been wanting to do this all fucking day, Nina. All. Fucking. Day.” Up go his hands, gliding over the abs that would be smoother if I actually worked out at the gym. My body involuntarily sucks in its stomach from the nerve endings.
I stifle a moan. “Is this the real reason you wanted to stay in?”
He groans in my ear. “Unless you wanted to go out, yeah. This is why we’re staying in.”
God dammit, he’s bossy; almost worse than Becky.
Speaking of which—she’d be so proud of me right now, about to get laid in my kitchen. I glance to my left, then my right, and exhale. Thank god I cleaned when I got home from work.
And by clean I mean loaded the dishwasher and tossed the rest of the shit in the cabinet with the pots and pans. My point is, the countertops are free of clutter.
My eyes shoot to the table several feet away. Clean. Dan’s large hands find my waist and turn me. I’m facing him now, and his mouth finds the pulse in my neck and sucks. Oh jeez.
“Oh jeez,” I mutter. “You feel amazing. Do you know how long it’s been for me?”
“Almost two months,” he reminds me. “Harvard, who couldn’t get it in.”
My laugh vibrates through the otherwise quiet kitchen. “You’re not going to have that problem, are you, Dan?” I tease, my hands eagerly seeking the fly of his jeans.
“Hell no.”
“Bedroom, bedroom,” I pant, pulling his plaid shirt from the waistband of his jeans.
“You’re killing me, babe,” he whines, palming my breasts through my blue sweater. Our moans fill my tiny kitchen. “We can have round two in the bedroom later.”
I reach between our bodies and pry his hand—his large, strong, talented hand—off my boob, and tug him towards the living room, a clear path to my bed. “Bedroom. Now. Please, Dan. There’s no way I’ll have an orgasm being screwed on a table, and if I don’t have an orgasm, I’m going to be pissed.”
“God dammit, you’re sexy when you’re bossy,” he whispers into my ear from behind, his roaming hands never leaving my body as we practically race down the hall. “I’m gonna stop by your office this week and bend you over your desk.”
Yes, please.
“Oh, you think so, huh?” I can barely get the words out as my shirt is lifted up over my head. Together we remove my jeans in one of the oldest dances of our time. My underwear. Bra. Moments later he’s lifting me off my feet and setting me in the center of my bed.
I watch with hungry eyes, breathless, as he crawls up my body, my legs trembling with anticipation.
Then he’s inside me and…
Oh. God.
Oh yes, yes, yes.
Danny Boy does me so good that my body quivers the entire time his lean hips rock us into next week. Next year. The bed actually creaks out a groan, banging into the wall. If I had a dog, right now it would be howling.
“Fuck, Janine, fuck,” he slurs into my hair, punch drunk on oxytocin from our lovemaking.
We both are.
“So, what’s the story with you and Becky?” Dan’s voice carries over from the other side of my king-size bed, my crisp white sheets wrapped around his waist. Moonlight shines into the room, and he reaches over, pulling me closer.
“Becky? Gosh, we’ve been friends forever.” I close my eyes as his hands snake up my torso, his large palm settling on my breast.
“Since you were young? Did you grow up together, or…” His voice trails off in the dark.
I shake my head. “No. Well, since the first day of freshman year of college. But it feels like forever.” As far as post-coital talk goes, there could be worse things than discussing your best friend in the sack. She will die when I tell her. “It’s a long story, but basically she was the last person on our floor to move in and I ambushed her. She had no choice but to be my friend.”
“Sounds like you.”
“Mmm hmm. I’ve always had a way with people.” I snuggle deeper into his chest. His hips begin a slow rotation into my ass crack. I manage a pitiful, “Thanks for bringing dinner. Thai is my favorite,” before he gets completely hard and has me on my back.
“You’re welcome for dinner.” In the moonlight, I can see his eyes shine as he hovers above me. “Thanks for dessert.”
Becky: If you don’t answer me, I’m sending out a search party.
Becky: Are you alive? Answer me. Dammit, Janine Richardson!
Becky: Fine. You only have yourself to blame when I show up at your door. You’ve been warned…
I set the cell back on my nightstand and stretch just as a loud banging comes from the front of the house. The telltale sound of a key being fitted into the deadbolt and turning has me springing into action, and I untangle myself from the sheets, throwing them aside to ease myself out of bed. But I get sidetracked.
Impulsively, I lean down, placing a tender kiss on a slumbering Dan’s temple, letting my lips linger longer than necessary and inhaling the smell of him. Making a memory.
I stroke his cheekbone with my palm, memorizing the texture of the stubble casting a dark shadow along his jaw; his full lips part when the tip of my finger traces them slowly.
Those same lips smile.
One brown eye opens.
“Hi.”
“Morning.” He arches up, planting a kiss on my mouth before settling back down into my pillow. “What’s that banging?”
Not us, unfortunately.
“Becky.”
Dan looks skeptical. Amused. “Does she always….”
“Yes. She always.”
“Well then, you better go out there, before she comes in here and finds me sporting wood.”
Oh god.
I should have known Becky would find a way to crash my slumber party.
The woman has terrible timing.
“Janine? Hey!” Her voice carries to my bedroom. I roll my eyes and go see what the fuss is about.
“Why didn’t you text me back?” Becky asks when I make my way into the living room. She starts in like the mother hen that she is, nipping at my heels when I bustle past her into the kitchen, hitting BREW on the coffee pot.
“I was busy?” Busy getting laid, over and over again.
“You can turn that pot off. I brought coffee.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I finally give her a once over. She’s holding two steaming coffee cups and has been forgiven. “Aww, you brought me coffee?”
What a thoughtful little cockblocker she is.
However, I leave the coffee maker on.
For Dan.
“Aren’t you going to turn that off? I brought these.”
I take the cup she has extended towards me, slowly sipping the steaming brew so I don’t burn my tongue, and rest my hip against the granite countertop to study her. “Becks. Did you not see the giant black pick-up truck parked at the curb?”
Her brows furrow in confusion. “Yeah, but…”
Behind me, the coffee pot gurgles and spits.
As if planned by a screenwriter in Hollywood, Dan chooses that exact moment to make his entrance. Casually, he strolls through the kitchen in masculine glory, a bright white terry-cloth towel wrapped around his deliciously tapered waist. Water beads on his chest, and the smell of fresh soap assaults my senses. His hair is damp and clinging to his scalp.
He kisses me full on the mouth before turning those brown eyes on a gaping Becky.
The shock on her face is priceless. Her sharp eyes, which never miss a detail, travel the length of Dan’s freshly showered body, snapping back up to his face when they hit the edge of the towel.
“Morning, ladies.” A knowing smile crosses his face.
“I… I…” Becky stutters.
“Don’t mind me.” Dan grins. “I heard the coffee pot, and you know what they say about the best part of waking up…”
My best friend clears her throat. “Um… Folgers in your cup?”
“Nope. The best part is Janine waking me up with her…” His voice trails off suggestively when he lands a kiss to my lips. He passes us en route to the coffee. “Sweet kisses.”
My friend giggles, relieved, but her cheeks still turn beet red. What’d she think he was gonna say? The best part of waking up was my lips around his dick?
Yeah, probably.
I put her out of her misery. “Oh, calm down. You’ve seen a porn star’s junk. You can handle Dan in a towel.” And maybe this will teach her not to come busting over on a Saturday morning just because I don’t answer her texts within three minutes.
“Porn star’s junk?” Dan’s eyebrows shoot to his dark hairline as he fills a coffee mug, adds sugar, and goes to the fridge for creamer. “There’s a story behind that, I take it?”
Becky and I eyeball each other.
“Dan,” my best friend says, clearing her throat to find her voice. “There’s always a story when it comes to us.”