The robot voice of my GPS leads me out of Maple Mills and about twenty minutes up route 605. The drive takes me to a secluded bungalow set at the end of a long driveway on a thickly-treed lot.

When Blake texted me this address, he explained that this was his childhood home. His parents are away for a few weeks and we’ll have the place to ourselves.

There’s a generous area for parking in front of the house, room for lots of cars. It’s very private and secluded, a lovely spot.

We could run around naked on the front lawn here and no one would be the wiser. Who knows, maybe we will, I think to myself, and smile.

He greets me at the door, wearing a pair of pressed khakis and a white button-down shirt that shows off his glorious arms and shoulders. He’s casual but just a little bit dressier than usual.

And I know he did that for me.

Over his clothing is an apron bearing the words:

His gaze is direct, warm and welcoming, and his presence…wow! His sheer presence is so sexual, so animal!

The way he’s looking at me makes all my doubts about his motivations towards me evaporate.

This man wants me. Not even I can doubt it anymore. It’s so obvious, so inescapable, it makes me flustered, fluttery and tongue-tied.

And so very, very horny.

I’m glad I wore a casual but nice skirt and blouse instead of the jeans I was considering at first.

“Hi,” he says, showing me his wide, white smile.

“Hi,” I say back, unable to suppress a wide smile in return.

He just stands there for a moment, then he says, “You look beautiful.” He takes two steps towards me and both arms go around my waist as he pulls me against him for a hug.

“Thank you,” Being in his arms feels so dreamy! And gosh, he smells good! “You’re looking very handsome yourself.”

“Why, thank you.” He points at the apron and then grins at me. “This is your mission, should you choose to accept it,” he says, and his gaze goes to my mouth as I chortle.

Before I can say anything, he kisses me, delicately. A rush of heat, and his gentle touch on my mouth becomes urgent, and before I know it I’m standing in the doorway with erect nipples and a slow, wet heat building between my legs.

“Damn,” he murmurs. He chuckles softly, then looks down into my face soberly for the space of a few seconds. “How are you feeling today?” One of his hands caresses my jaw as he looks into my eyes.

“I feel great! Thanks! And…thank you so much for that doctor’s appointment. I really appreciate it.”

I make sure to smile at him, make sure to really show that I do appreciate it.

His smile and the light in his eyes…he looks so happy and pleased.

“Doctor Mendel is the best GP in Ohio. What did he have to say?”

He takes my hand and leads me through a nicely-appointed living room into a spacious kitchen.

“Just stuff I’ve heard before: It’s not a tumor, I’m healthy as a horse. Yes, he literally said that.” I grin. “He said that they don’t know what causes migraines; that I should try to discover and avoid food triggers if any; headaches can be exacerbated by stress, PMS, bright lights; lack of sleep; blah blah blah etc. I told you! I mean, look at me. I’m fine.”

“You sure are,” he says, grinning.

“Heh. Thanks.” I decide to tell him my other concern and get it over with. “It’s just that…Blake? Um. I wasn’t expecting, ah….that I’d have to have a full physical exam. Or, change doctors.”

“Oh, no? You’d rather not?”

“Well…I guess I’d rather…I mean, I guess I wish you’d asked me first. Don’t get me wrong, it was a thorough and detailed exam. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“I don’t think the doc would see you if you weren’t one of his patients. This is a private family physician, not one of those walk-in practices. And besides, any doctor will want a detailed history for new patient.”

“Right, right,” I say. “It’s not the history that bothers me. What I’m saying is that…I don’t know Blake, I guess I felt you were a little presumptuous.”

Shit. My attempt at a light and breezy tone fails. My nerves make me sound…bitchy, even to myself.

“Presumptuous? Huh.” He leans against the counter and regards me soberly. “I’m sorry you felt that way. My thought was only to make sure we got a thorough examination. Better safe than sorry, you know?” His voice and expression is careful. Flat.

He’s disappointed. Angry? I examine his face. No, not angry. Hurt.

A knot forms in my chest. I feel bad, like a total ingrate. Say something, fix this! Quick!

“Shit.” I say, run my hand through my hair. “I’m sorry, Blake. Look, the truth is, I just don’t know what to make of it. I’m not used to this level of…help, I guess.”

Level of help? Argh. Why is it so hard to find the right words to express what I need to express?

“This level of help?” He’s looking at me blankly. No wonder.

“This level of…um…decision-making. By a, boyfriend-type. You know.” Crap! Not only do I sound like a complete moron, that’s not even what I really mean.

Now his voice has an edge. “Ahhh…is that what this is about? Okay, Jen. What do you want to do? You wanna make all the decisions? Pay for our dates, too? You wanna be the man?”

“No. Nope.” I shake my head firmly, a panick-y feeling beginning to take shape in my chest. “Why jump to that conclusion? I’m saying that I just want to be consulted in matters that concern me.” God, that sounds so stilted and formal. “I…Jesus, that didn’t sound right either. I…I mean, I already feel like you kind of push me around at work. Is it always gonna be that way in our personal lives, too?”

Shit, shit, shit! This is not helping! Why is my tongue so tied right now? Jesus!

“Push you around? You feel like I push you around?” His eyes are getting that fierce look. He shakes his head, places both hands on the counter behind him and glares at me. “You have no idea what I have to go through every day at work…the shit that’s shovelled at me from every direction!” He pokes himself in the chest. “I’m the boss! That means, I’m responsible! Don’t you get that?”

Irritation flares in my chest. This is exactly what I mean. “Yes, I get that. How could I not? You make it impossible to forget!”

“I wish I could forget it. But I can’t. You know why? Because it’s my ass on the line. My name, my reputation, my responsibility. People are relying on me.” His voice is low, tightly controlled. He’s not angry, but I need to clarify my meaning or this date could go south.

We’ve had a few tense moments like this at work, and always managed to resolve them.

But right now, the stakes are so much higher.

We look at each other in silence for an uncomfortable moment.

“You know what?” I look away, take a breath, then look back. I clear my throat and then speak gently, looking him straight in the eyes. “Nothing I’m saying right now is coming out right. I sound ungrateful, even to myself. And I’m not. In fact, I’m very grateful.” I search for the right words but I can’t find any, so I just go with the unsophisticated truth. “I…don’t know how to explain this graciously, and somehow I keep getting tongue-tied right now. But…I….I don’t want you to be the one in control, all the time. I mean…you can lead, yes. Mostly! But I need to have a say! And I don’t want to be obligated.”

He makes a sound of exasperation. “You can have all the say you need. I didn’t think for a minute that I was ‘controlling’ you. So, put that thought right out of your head!” His stance, and his expression, relaxes. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re all right. The doctor’s office makes the rules about who they’ll see, what the procedure is. Not me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“And who said anything about obligation? There’s no obligation, Jenny girl.” The edge in his voice is fading.

He comes over, wraps his arms around me and murmurs into my hair. “Don’t you realize that? Are you saying, you thought there’d be strings? Expectations?”

A lump in my throat prevents me from speaking. I shrug and bury my face in his shirt. My arms creep up around his waist and hug him back, tightly.

“Awww…shit, Jennifer. I like you. I’m attracted to you. Very much. I want to see where this could go. That’s what I expect and that’s all. If part of that is wanting to do stuff for you, then…sue me.” He holds me quietly for a moment. “But yeah, I want your input. And I’m not going to send you a bill if it doesn’t work out.” He rests his head against mine and rocks me back and forth. “Okay?”

I nod, swallowing hard. He lifts my chin and kisses my nose, then my lips. “I’m not letting you go until you give me a smile.” I roll my eyes. “That’s not a smile….c’mon.” He tucks his chin into my neck, play-snarling and tickling. I can’t help but giggle. “Aha! There! That’s better. Now, c’mon, lets go out back. I’ve got some baking potatoes on the grill and the steaks will only take a minute.”

“Okay. I’m starving!”

“Good. Me too! Would you like a beverage? A glass of wine? I’ve got red, but also white and rosé. Also, beer and cider. Also, my dad has hard liquor around here somewhere, if you want to really tie one on.”

“Hah! No thanks, it’s a work night. But I’ll take a glass of red to go with my steak.”

“Ehhh-ksellent choice, mademoiselle,” he says, in a cheesy French accent.

Phew! Reprieved!

I really appreciate how relaxed and playful Blake became when he understood what I was trying to say.

And I like how willing he was to listen…and try to understand me, even if I didn’t exactly make it easy.

“I’ll have red, too.” He takes two glasses from a cabinet and a bottle of Napa Valley cabernet sauvignon from the wine rack. He pours us both a generous amount and we take our glasses out to a large deck.

“Wow! It’s beautiful here!” The yard is enormous, lined with trees on both sides and at the back. “You grew up here with this back yard? Lucky!”

“Yeah, I know. There’s a creek there too, behind those trees. When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time back there with my friends.”

He opens the grill and pokes the foil-covered potatoes with a fork. “Yep, these are done,” he says. He removes them from the heat and places two thick grilling steaks onto the hot surface of the barbecue, where they instantly sizzle, sending out an appetizing smell. “I seasoned them with Montreal steak spice, is that okay with you?” he asks.

“Mmm, yeah! I love that stuff,” I say, taking a sip of my wine. I walk over to the deck railing and lean against it, looking out at the peaceful setting.

“Awesome. I knew you were a girl after my heart,” he closes the grill cover and sips his own wine. “These steaks will be a few minutes, and then we can eat.” He comes to stand close to me, sliding an arm around my waist and nuzzling my hair.

As soon as he gets near me, it’s as if all the tiny hairs on my body stand up at once.

“So, apart from seeing the doc, what’d you do with your day off today?” His voice is close, his breath, warm in my ear.

“Oh, not much,” I say, and lean back against him. “Lazed around. Watched a movie. Cleaned.” He snuggles me closer.

“You had a good day?”

I nod. “Yes. Thank you, Blake.”

“My pleasure.” One of his hands pushes my hair away from my neck. He bends and kisses my neck, very gently, and then again, and again, moving up towards my ear, his breath warm and intimate against my skin. My eyes close and my knees feel all watery.

My head tilts away from him, giving him room to place a row of soft kisses along my jaw, making my center loose and warm and wet. I let out a soft moan.

He lets out a heavy breath and pushes his erection into my hip. Gently, he grasps my chin, tips my head back and kisses me soundly on the lips.

Then he says “Gotta turn the steaks,” and, smiling down at me, he smacks my ass smartly, rubs the spot with an open palm, and then goes back over to the grill, chuckling.

I don’t know if I’m hungrier for steak or for what Blake’s packing in his pants right about now.

I follow him and watch as he turns the delicious-smelling steaks over, showing nice grill stripes on the cooked side. He slices one of them open with a knife, showing me how the meat is cooked on that side.

“How’s that look?” he says.

“Perfect, pink and juicy, just how I like it.”

“Yeah, pink and juicy is just how I like it, too,” he waggles his eyebrows, making fun of his own innuendo.

I give it back, just as broad and obvious. “Well, that’s good because I have something pink and juicy just for you.”

“Oh? What is it? Bubblegum?” He closes the grill again and turns back to me. One of his hands slides up my waist to my breast, where he squeezes it gently, sending shivers throughout my body.

I cover his hand with my own and laugh. “Nope.”

“Nope? Then, it must be a nice piece of ham?” He pulls me close and mouths my earlobe. Another flash of tingles rushes through me. I close my eyes, laughing and very turned on.

“Nope.”

One of his hands is on my ass now, caressing and squeezing. “Mmmm,” his breath is warm in my ear. “I hope it’s something warm and tender. And tight.” The other hand lifts my skirt and slides along my bare skin, then under my panties.

I hold my breath.

Looking into my face now, his hand goes between my legs and brushes against my pussy ever so lightly. His lips on mine, his voice muffled, he says, “This will be my dessert.”

Oh God! How am I supposed to make it through dinner now?

One more kiss and then, together, we bring the food inside.

* * *

No meal I’ve ever had was so delicious. It feels like every one of my nerves is wide awake and in a state of high anticipation. Judging from the bulge in Blake’s pants as he takes a seat, he feels the same.

But we take our time over the meal, savoring the juicy steaks, which are cooked so perfectly they melt in the mouth. The potatoes are fluffy and buttery, served with a dollop of sour cream and a sprinkling of chopped chives. There’s a crisp, tasty salad of spring greens with a balsamic vinegar dressing.

“Damn, Blake! You are a great cook! I am seriously impressed!”

He finishes chewing his mouthful of steak, and swallows. “Thanks,” he says. “None of this is very complicated to put together, but then again, the best meals tend to be the simplest.”

I nod and take another bite of delicious grilled meat. Yum! Washed down with the red wine, every bite is a smorgasbord of taste and textural sensations, all heightened by the undercurrent running between us.

“Jenny?” he says, about halfway through his steak. Under the table, he caresses my bare foot with one of his much larger, sock-covered feet, then lets it rest on top of mine. Who ever thought playing footsies under a table could convey such an amazingly warm and reassuring feeling. “I think we should have a quick talk about our, ah, personal, um, sexual health situations.”

“Ah. I agree,” I say. “How about you go first.”

“Okay,” he says amiably. “I had a full check up when I started with the company three months ago. Including blood panel and STD work-up. Everything came back negative. I’m completely healthy and free of defects.” His eyes twinkle. “I had my share of girlfriends back in LA. But I haven’t been with anyone for a long while. And frankly, haven’t been looking, especially since I came back here to Ohio.”

I nod. “By chance, would you happen to have the paperwork with the results for that handy?”

“I would indeed.” He smiles. “If you want to see them.”

His foot, still covering mine, wriggles reassuringly.

I smile back. “That won’t be necessary. I trust you. I can’t provide any proof of my own until the results from today’s testing come back from Dr. Mendel’s office. But, I haven’t had a boyfriend for nearly two years. The last time I had a checkup was a little before that ended, and everything was fine. I’m sure I don’t have any problems.”

“Alright. That’s good enough for me. You don’t seem to be particularly disease-ridden.” He winks at me broadly and takes another sip of his wine.

“Oh, no?” I laugh. “Is that a high compliment to pay a woman back in California?” I arch an eyebrow at him teasingly and take a sip of my own wine in turn.

“The highest.” To my amazed delight, he hunches over, lets his tongue hang out of the side of his mouth and sucks in his cheeks. I watch, giggling, as he makes one eye turn lazily in towards the other, making himself look like an enormous goof. “Hey babe, you don’t have too many flies buzzin’ around your head…heh heh, heh heh….so, ah, how about it? Ya wanna git it on?” He effects a flawlessly-pervy surfer-dude accent, surprising me and making me giggle so hard, I nearly choke on my wine.

In return, I curl my lips around my teeth, hiding them, squint one of my eyes shut and jerk my head as if I have a really bad tic. “Jes’ lemme finish smokin’ dis here crack pipe,” I say, in a lisping, raspy voice, raising a pretend-pipe up to my lips, “and den I’ll gives ya’s a gum job like ya’s ain’t never had before, I gurr-run-tees ya’s!”

His eyes widen and we both crack up.

“A gum job? Hmm…that sounds…interesting.” he says, grinning.

“Oh yeh? I gots ya’s covered,” I rasp, hiding my teeth again. “Special price for ya’s, too, just for tuh-day!”

He guffaws. “I’ll meet ya’s behind the liquor store laters,” he says, “where I gots a mattress in a dumpster, all nice and cozy!”

“Ooooh, that sounds high-class! You’s a real gennelmin, ain’t ya’s?”

Chortling, we clink glasses and get back to eating.

Chatting about inconsequential things, our eyes meet and take each other in as we eat, the knowledge of what’s about to happen seemingly vibrating in the air between us, making me feel incredibly alive.

Tonight, he’s confident as usual, very like the way he comes across at work, except in a much more funny, casual and relaxed manner.

His calm self-assurance uplifts me, and gives me confidence in him as well.

He finishes first and sits back, falling silent. He sips his wine and watches me, a smile playing around his lips. Finished myself now, I use my napkin, smile impishly back at him, and stand up to begin clearing the table.

I take our plates to the sink and turn on the faucet to rinse them. In a flash, he’s behind me, his hands braced on the counter on either side of me, playfully trapping me there.

“Well, hello,” he says, and pushes his groin against my behind. “Fancy meeting you here.” His voice is low and growly. If his erection disappeared during the meal, it’s back with a vengeance now, grinding against my ass insistently.

“Hello yourself,” I say, turning to look back at him. “No vacancies in the dumpster tonight?”

“Heh heh, nope,” he says. Putting his hands on my hips, he pulls them towards him so that I’m bending at the waist. My breathing intensifies as I watch him out of the corner of my eye.

He pushes himself against me, rocking from side to side, as he trails his fingers along the outside of my knees. Lifting my skirt as he goes, letting his fingertips run all the way up my thighs, across to the front and dipping towards my center. I bend forward a bit more, pushing my behind into him.

“Hmm,” he purrs, running his hands up my waist to my breasts. He cups them before taking my nipples between his fingers.

I moan. My cleft throbs, and I push my ass into him boldly, wiggling and rubbing it against his hardness.

“Naughty girl,” he murmurs, his delight evident in his voice.

Then he turns me around, takes me in his arms and crushes my lips with his.