Mandy
I ease into the booth and smile toward Malcolm’s welcoming expression.
“Hello, gorgeous.”
Despite any qualms I may have been having, my smile grows as his greeting fills me with a welcomed feeling of warmth. “I’m sorry this is a late dinner. I wanted to wait until…my son was in bed.”
Malcolm shakes his head. “Not a problem. I ordered you a glass of moscato. I hope you don’t mind.”
There’s a tug in my chest, remembering how Jackson used to do that—order things for me. Though I have friends who would be offended by a man ordering for them, I’m not one. On the contrary, I’m pleased that Malcolm remembers the type of wine that I like. It’s sweet—the wine and him. “I don’t mind. Thank you.”
Malcolm reaches across the table and opens his hand, palm up.
Slowly I lift mine and place it in his. My eyes flutter as his fingers encase mine. The energy at our connection ripples through me, waking me and bringing my tired body back to life. It’s like electricity recharging me after my long day at work, my concerns over Jase’s kindergarten class, and life in general. For only a moment, I fantasize how it would be to have Malcolm’s warmth and support every evening.
“You’re too far away.”
My gaze moves back to his blue eyes and his sexy smile. “I am? We’re touching.”
His brow lifts suggestively. “Not in as many places as I’d like.”
“Didn’t you promise me dinner and drinks?”
“I did.” Just as he speaks, the waitress arrives with glasses of water, a glass of moscato, and another of beer.
Once she’s gone, Malcolm verbalizes my thoughts. “After a long day at work, it’s nice to sit here and talk, sharing a drink and touching.”
I nod, especially liking the last one. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Tell me about your job.”
I take a deep breath and let it out. “Can all that wait?”
We’ve spoken on the phone every night since Sunday. Sometimes it’s for a few minutes; other nights it’s until way past my normal bedtime. It seems as though all the things I worried about aren’t truly concerns. Malcolm likes coffee, all day during the cold months and definitely every morning. Besides chocolate syrup, he does enjoy an occasional cookie, brownie, and has never turned down birthday cake. Like any normal human being, he prefers buttercream frosting to fondant or whipped. Who doesn’t? He also enjoys reading, more so than any other man I’ve known. I’ve never been able to talk books with anyone except Sally, and I like the discussions Malcolm and I have shared. We both agree that releasing Go Set a Watchman was a mistake. He’s also addicted to Netflix originals and suggested we go to the movies sometime, though he’s tired of remakes and thinks Hollywood needs some new original ideas.
I couldn’t agree more.
It’s the real-life issues that we’ve kept to a minimum.
“Wait for what?” he asks.
“I don’t really know. I think I want to enjoy being with you without it being too real. My job has its ups and downs. I love the company I work for and my coworkers. My manager can be a real bitch...” The fingers from my other hand fly to my lips. It’s one thing to say that to Sally, but I don’t know Malcolm well enough to talk that way, and I don’t want him to think less of me.
Before I can take it back, his laugh resonates, filling the space of our booth and reverberating through me. “Now don’t get all shy on me. I guarantee I heard worse expletives from your lips than that one each time you came apart with me buried deep inside you.”
My eyes widen as I giggle at his observation. “I guess…I didn’t realize…”
He leans across the table, squeezing my hand and lowering his voice. “You didn’t realize you like to yell fuck when you’re coming apart.”
I suck my upper lip between my teeth to squelch my grin and slowly shake my head. “No. I didn’t realize.”
His blue eyes dance in amusement. “Then I’m quite proud of myself.”
“You are?”
“Yes, I had you so distracted you didn’t know what you were saying.”
My cheeks warm as blood rushes to the surface.
“By the way, you were also confessing your undying love for me.”
This time my lips purse. “I think you’re exaggerating.”
“Maybe a little.”
We release one another’s hand as we lift our respective glasses.
“To you,” Malcolm proposes his toast. “To us, and to avoiding nice women and men with erectile issues.”
I nearly spit out my wine as I take a sip.
Though we avoid discussing anything too revealing, the conversation never lags. Like the first night and all the nights on the phone, talking to him is easy and fun. Through our meal and as we sip a cup of coffee to postpone the inevitable goodbye, we laugh, smile, and simply chat. It’s refreshing and new, exciting yet comfortable. Our date, the evening as a whole, is everything I’ve wanted—times a thousand. It’s almost eleven when Malcolm pays the bill.
“My place?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I want to.” And I do. “But my friend is watching Ja—” I stop before I say Jase’s name. “My son. If I get back too much later, she'll never stop asking questions.”
Malcolm reaches for my hand and our fingers intertwine. “Let me walk you to your car. I promised to be a gentleman. That means there’s a door to open.”
The night air holds the slight chill of impending autumn as we walk across the nearly empty parking lot. As we approach my car, his grip of my hand tightens, and he lowers his lips to my ear. “Did I mention how stunning you are tonight?”
Instinctively, I turn and brush my lips over his. “You're very handsome, too.”
“That dress is lovely, but…” His words trail into the night.
We’re now at my car. I’m leaning against it and looking up at him. With only the tall lights of the parking lot, his features are shadowed. His protruding brow is more pronounced, and his shoulders seem wider. What I said is true. Malcolm is handsome, incredibly so.
“But?” I ask, prompting him to go on.
“For the last five days, I've imagined you the way you were, on your knees, fully exposed…” He leans closer. Even in his jeans his erection is prominent. “…and I want to see you that way again.”
Maybe it’s the coffee we just drank, but I’m pretty sure what I’m feeling is brought on by more than caffeine. His proximity, words, and tone comprise the accelerant making my blood race. My insides tighten in a painful knot of desire, confirming that despite my declining his invitation, I want to go with him. I want more tonight than a good girl’s dinner and drinks.
“Malcolm…”
Before I can say more, his lips capture mine and his fingers twist my low ponytail until my head moves backward. All at once his kisses pepper my neck, my exposed skin, sending heat to my chilled flesh. My body’s on fire and this sweet, sexy man is the match. It’s his spark that ignites the inferno.
“When…?” His voice is gravelly with desire.
I can’t think about anything except the raging blaze within me. I’m consumed by his lips, the way they kiss and suck. His teeth, the way they nip and bite. His beard, the way it tickles and prickles. And the part of him that is hard and pressed against my stomach, reminding me what could be.
“When can I see you again…like that?” he asks again.
“I’ll try.” It’s all I can promise, but as my response hangs in the night air, my hand seems to develop a mind of its own, dropping to the front of his jeans and rubbing his erection with all my force. Below my fingers as I move up and down across the coarse denim, he hardens and grows. It’s such a primal response, yet as his eyes close and breath stutters, I’m reminded of something I’d forgotten. His reaction reminds me that even with a tall, handsome man like Malcolm, I am a woman with the ability to affect him. It’s empowering and makes me want more.
“Fuck.” Again, his growl is a whispered rumble.
Or is it a promise?
“I thought you said I was the one who cursed?” I ask.
“I want to hear that too.” He lifts my hand to his lips and gently kisses my knuckles. “Mandy, you deserve much better, but may I please have a little more of your time?”
I look around the parking lot. It’s true that it’s nearly empty, but I can’t fathom what he has in mind. “What do you want?”
“Oh, beautiful. I want you.”
Five minutes later, with Malcolm in my passenger seat, we park at the far back lot of a neighborhood park not too far from the restaurant. It’s rather secluded and probably supposed to be off-limits this time of night. With no streetlights and a ring of trees surrounding the parking area, it’s mostly dark; the only exception comes from the stars visible high above the canopy of trees.
I can’t believe we’re here on public property about to do what we’re about to do.
My heart is beating out of control, and my entire body is on alert.
This is dangerous.
This is sexy.
This is stupid.
This is erotic.
This is something that sex-crazed teenagers would do, not grown adults…and then it hits me...
This is something Mandy Wells would do.
Malcolm reaches for the button on his jeans, but before he undoes it, I lean over. “Let me.”
The sense of empowerment grows as I unfasten his button and lower his zipper. His mammoth length springs forward. Commando is how he is—nothing beneath his jeans but his giant erection. Embracing the inner vixen I never knew I had, I give Malcom my biggest smile as I lean forward and lick the musky dew from his tip. My actions elicit a deep, reverberating groan from somewhere in his chest. When I look up, his sparkling eyes are on me.
“Beautiful Mandy, there isn’t a lot of room in here. Shimmy out of those panties and come sit on my dick.”
I giggle as I sit up and reach under my dress for my underwear. “If that’s your best pickup line, I now understand why you aren’t seeing anyone.”
As he sheaths his massive erection, I pull my panties down my legs, shamelessly leaving them on the driver’s-side floorboard. With my panties gone, my core clenches in anticipation as I climb from my seat to his. My hands grab ahold of his shoulders as my knees straddle his lap.
“You’re wrong,” he says.
“I am?” I look around, wondering if he had something else in mind.
“Not about your position, beautiful. You’re right where I want you. You’re wrong about me.”
“About you?”
“I am seeing someone.” He scans me up and down. “I’m seeing you.” He reaches to the front of my dress and undoes the row of buttons. Like last time, he pushes my bra down until my beaded nipples are peeking over the cups. Palming one of my breasts, he praises me again. “Your tits are perfect. Made for my hands.”
My head falls back as I groan and writhe with his caresses, but it’s as he shifts and his fingers find my entrance that I let loose my first curse word. All at once, the walls of my pussy clench around his fingers.
“You’re always so wet.”
I shake my head. “No, not always. Only when I’m with you.”
Malcolm lines up the tip of his cock, purposely holding my hips away, teasing and building my anticipation. And then all at once he guides my body, yanking me down, hard and fast, surrounding his rod as my essence allows him to slide into place.
“Oh!” My mouth stays in an ‘O’ even after the word trails away.
So deep.
In this position his cock is a thick rod, a post, staking his claim. Buried inside me, he makes me squirm as he stretches and fills me. Though I have a sense of control, it’s his hands guiding my hips, moving them in time with his.
The friction is staggering as my knees flex, and I ride him up and down.
His lips continue to suck my nipples, pulling, biting, and marking them.
The night’s chill disappears as perspiration coats our skin and the windows fog.
“You’re so tight. So fucking good.” Malcolm’s admiration is stilled only when his lips are busy. The scruff of his beard abrades my sensitive skin in the most erotic way. Despite the heat inside the car, my nipples are rock-hard as he continues to move me, allowing me to ride him. Then he reaches for my clit. The newfound friction is cosmic as flashes of light explode behind my eyes. I’m no longer aware of what I’m saying or the sounds coming from my mouth.
Harder and harder one of his hands grips my hip while the other teases my clit. His hold is so tight that I wonder if I’ll have bruises of his fingerprints upon my skin, and then all at once, we both come, our bodies detonating together. We’re like fireworks connected to the same fuse, and the epic explosion is a grand finale.
My head falls to his shoulder as I catch my breath. Only the panting of our gasps is audible as we settle into the cloud of his masculine scent and our lovemaking. He holds me tight until our heartbeats begin to slow.
“That was fucking great,” he says.
I nod against his neck as a smile tugs at my lips. “It was.”