God, this was the best date.
Will was the best date.
The night had been a blur of laughter and Will’s smiles and Will’s beautiful blue eyes and Will’s teasing commentary and… Will. Will. Will.
I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol flowing through my veins or the fact that he was unlike anyone I’d ever met. But five hours into a night alone with him and I never wanted to leave his side. He was sweet and kind, and yet, innately charming in a way that made me want to permanently fuse myself to his lap so I’d always be there to hear all of the things he had to say.
With Will’s hands on my waist and his warm breath on my neck, every single part of me felt good except for the nagging clench in my stomach reminding me our time was nearly up. I wanted to bottle up this intimate moment of dancing with him and keep it forever.
But we’d been dancing for what felt like hours at Chez Noir and, unfortunately for me, my feet were starting to announce their disdain for being in heels.
I needed a break, unless I wanted to end up breaking something.
As the ending beats of Rhianna’s “Love on the Brain” left the speakers hovering over the dance floor and the song ended, I fell forward into his arms.
“Will!” I said with a giggle and leaned in, pressing my lips to his ear to be heard over the music. The close proximity and warmth of his skin against mine sent a shock straight up my spine.
God, he smells good. I bet he tastes even better.
He grinned down at me, curiosity mingling with interest and want in the most intoxicating way.
“My feet hurt,” I complained on a whine, and he laughed softly.
“Should we call it a night?” he asked neutrally, but his expression didn’t match the tone of his voice. He looked disappointed at the thought.
Ditto, Doc.
“Maybe we should close out our tab and grab one last drink?” I suggested, and his face brightened at my words. If he kept looking that happy to be around me, I couldn’t be held accountable for the things I would do.
“Grab a table, and I’ll get the drinks.”
I nodded and he grinned before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to my cheek.
Moments later, we were sitting cozily at a table in the corner of the bar, located conveniently away from the bustling night crowd. He’d gotten the drinks in record time, seemingly as eager to get back to me as I was for him to return.
“Tomorrow night at eight?” he asked into the skin of my neck, an arm draped warmly around my shoulders. I smiled at first—obviously enthralled with even the most basic of things he had to say—but quickly realized I had no idea what he was talking about.
I tilted my head in confusion and asked, “What’s tomorrow night?”
“Our second date,” he declared with a smirk, and I giggled.
I blamed it on the alcohol. One glass of wine and I tended to giggle like a loon. I might have been self-conscious about what I sounded like if Will didn’t look like he liked it so much. I’d never been on a date with a guy so open with his emotions. He wasn’t trying to play some sort of game. Or if he was, it was my new favorite.
“Already looking for a second date?” I teased. “I’m pretty sure I’m still a little busy with the first one.”
“And how is the first one going?”
“Horribly,” I lied with a sly grin. “Probably the worst date I’ve ever been on.”
“I know, right?” He played along. “Between the laughter, the nonstop conversation, and your insanely pretty…everything, I’ve never been more bored in my life.” He paused, running a soft hand up the zipper of my boot and stopping just at the top, the tip of one deliciously long finger tracing the line of skin there. “And don’t even get me started on your legs. Jesus, those things go on for miles. It’s like they never end. Definitely a turn-off.”
God, just that touch made my pussy ache. “I should’ve gone with the sweat pants,” I said shakily, unable to fight the growing arousal with a squeeze of my legs, thanks to his hand now calmly resting on my thigh. If I pulled my legs together now, his hand would get trapped in between.
Maybe that’s not such a bad idea.
“They might’ve made it a little easier for you tolerate me.”
“Oh, yeah, because you’re completely intolerable,” he said on a laugh, his fingertips flexing into the flesh of my thigh and nearly making me moan. But his expression morphed into something much more serious as he used his other hand to slide a lock of my hair behind my ear. “You’re amazing, Melody,” he whispered. “I feel like a real lucky bastard that you found me so irresistible you changed your mind.”
I smiled and bit my lip, completely enthralled by his ability to tease and compliment in one sentence.
He looked down for a moment, and my eyes enjoyed the show, watching him intently and taking in every minute detail that equaled Will. I had never been the type of woman to think a man’s face was beautiful. Masculine? Sure. Handsome? Of course. But beautiful? No way.
At least, not until now.
Well-defined, with a sharp jaw and angular cheekbones and a genuine warmth you couldn’t cook up in a genetics lab, Will had a beautiful face. But it wasn’t the kind of beauty you’d see on the cover of a magazine; it was different. Captivating yet subtle. Soft yet firm. And when the slight olive complexion of his skin mixed with the ocean blue of his eyes, it made it nearly impossible to look away.
While he brought his beer to his full lips, I sat mesmerized. It was as if the alcohol that slid down into his throat had a direct link to my body, bolstering the warm sensation already living deep inside my belly.
When his chin came back down after his drink, he joined me in my perusal and didn’t once question the silence. The jovial sounds of bar patrons and the serenading voice of Beyoncé filled the background, but that’s all it was in that moment—just background noise. With Will’s avid attention fixed on me, everything else felt nonexistent. Hell, Beyoncé could’ve been standing in the middle of the dance floor singing “Single Ladies,” and I wouldn’t have noticed. I felt drunk off of him. Well, I was probably already a little drunk, but the buzz from the alcohol paled in comparison to the vibrating, heady energy that flowed between us.
His hand flexed on my thigh again, and my walls based on traditional first-date boundaries all but crumbled.
I wanted him. More than just dinner, more than just dating, I wanted him. Naked. Hard. Clawing at my skin. Kissing my neck. Sliding inside of me.
The room darkened as the lights inside the bar flashed with the techno beat of the next song, and I savored the feel of being cloaked in privacy. Will and I, sitting at a small high-top table toward the corner of the room, had now become unrecognizable to the other patrons. And before I could stop myself, I turned on my barstool, my back to the crowd, and faced Will directly. He watched me intently, his eyes fixed on mine, until I slowly parted my legs.
Without inhibitions and fueled by desire, I took his hand from my thigh and into mine and ran his index finger higher, under the material of my skirt and along my hot skin. His gaze locked on the apex between my thighs where only a hint of my panties was visible beneath the material of my skirt.
Touch me, I silently begged, and he didn’t disappoint.
I stopped helping him, but he kept going, his fingers leaving an electric trail until they reached the tiny sliver of silky material covering the place where I ached and throbbed for him.
I thought maybe he’d shy away from the public setting, but he took what I was thinking and did me one better.
With his gaze back to mine, he moved my panties to the side and ran his index finger through my arousal—once, twice, three times—and my hips jolted forward in response. His touch was calculated yet gentle as his thumb found my clit, pressing firm enough to spur a shot of pleasure up my spine.
“Does that feel good?” he asked, leaning forward enough that his lips skimmed the skin of my neck, and I nodded.
At least, I thought I’d nodded. For all I knew, my head had escaped my body—the only two places I knew with certainty were there were the ones Will was touching.
His thumb set up a rhythm of smooth, mind-blowing circles on my clit, and I swallowed my moan.
Good Lord, I wanted more. Needed more.
“Come home with me tonight,” he said into my ear. He lifted my chin with the tip of his finger, locking our gazes once more. “Let me spend the night with you.”
“Yes,” I whispered. I’d had the answer prepared before he even asked me the question. Whatever he wanted, I wanted.
Fingers still toying with me, he moved his lips from my ear to my mouth, and I gasped in surprise. But as soon as the tip of his tongue touched mine, I immediately responded with fervor, pulling his bottom lip into my mouth, sucking on his tongue, until both of our mouths and lips and tongues were dancing the same rhythm together.
“Let’s go,” he moaned against my lips. I didn’t want to stop, not at all. Not to move from this spot or to come up for air or anything. I just wanted him to keep touching me forever.
My disappointment was audible when he pulled his fingers from my pussy and put my panties back in place, but it didn’t last long.
In perhaps the most erotic move I’d ever paid witness to, he lifted his fingers to his mouth, right in front of my face—close enough that I could smell myself there—and sucked them inside.
“Yes,” I said finally, in answer to leaving—in answer to everything—and he didn’t waste any time, all but dragging both of our bodies toward the exit.
Time had turned into a blur of hurried kisses and brushing touches and stealing, desirous glances. Somehow, we’d left the bar and hopped into a cab. Somehow, we’d gotten to Will’s apartment. And somehow, we’d found ourselves standing face-to-face, still fully clothed, in the middle of Will’s bedroom with the foot of his bed beside our hips.
The night had morphed from the speed of light into slow motion.
We just stood there, looking at one another, the intensity so high it felt like I might come out of my skin. Still, there was something about this moment, this intimate encounter, that had forced both of us to take our time and savor every look, every touch, every tiny little second of time that equaled us, Will and me, together.
Without words and with his heated gaze locked with mine, his fingers slid up my wrist, to my elbow, until they stopped at my shoulder blade. They rested there for a breath and then slowly, oh so slowly, moved my shirt to the side. His fingers danced, skirting between not moving at all and just barely whispering against my skin.
I wasn’t sure why, but that one innocent touch, his touch, felt more erotic than the act of sex itself. Maybe I was horny. Maybe I’d reached my threshold of sexless days. Or maybe, just maybe, what had started to occur between Will and me was something words couldn’t explain.
The electricity of the moment slid up my spine as he started to undress me, first with his eyes, and then with his hands, removing every item of clothing—my bra, my panties, even kneeling in front of me to take off my shoes, with slow, calculated, and unhurried movements.
Bare and naked and vulnerable for his gaze, I felt him take me in. He didn’t touch me. Kiss me. Say anything. But make no mistake, Will savored me. His blue eyes caressed and whispered against every single inch of my skin so vividly it felt like a real touch.
I followed his lead, looking into his eyes, and without haste, I removed his shirt, his pants, his socks and shoes, and I didn’t stop until his boxers were on the floor and his tan and toned and muscular form was gloriously naked.
Will naked.
Oh boy.
I had fantasized about this.
Hell, I’d probably spent far too much time daydreaming about this very moment. But by the looks of things, I hadn’t been doing a good enough job.
Without shame, I let my eyes move across his skin, starting with his face and taking my time, moving down, down, down until I reached his hard and straining cock. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of him. He was beautiful. And big. And he was just as turned on as I was.
Holy moly, his penis is far, far better in real life.
“Fuck, Mel. You are unreal,” he whispered into the barely lit room, and I moved my gaze back to his. “You are,” he repeated, and I could’ve gone for a swim in the blue depths of his eyes. The waters were that warm and inviting.
Without touching any other part of my body, his fingers found my hair and gently slid a loose lock behind my ear.
I moaned at the feel.
I had never experienced this kind of intimate intensity with someone. Our attraction was almost visible. It could be seen and felt and tasted all around us. I was just tipsy enough to admit this sexual tension had been building from day one, from the first awkward moment Will’s eyes had met mine, and tonight, all of that want had transformed into need.
My breaths escaped in short, whimpering pants. My nipples grew tight and my breasts were heavy, and I throbbed and ached between my legs. When my hands started to run down my thighs, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last. The urge to touch him, kiss him, feel him inside of me was unbearable.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered, sensing I needed something and needed it now, and I obeyed.
Riveted, I watched as he knelt in front of me, and his new position put him in the perfect place to turn his power of seduction to my pussy. Honestly, I’d never felt more turned on, and fully confident in my body, in my life.
“Look at you. Just fucking look at you.” From under his lashes, his gaze met mine again, his index finger softly grazing my aching skin. “This is the prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen,” he said. He’d seen a lot of them, that I knew, but the funny thing in that moment was that there wasn’t even a tiny fraying part of me that didn’t believe him. My hips jolted forward of their own accord, begging for him, desperate for more than teasing.
Grabbing my hips so hard I gasped, he yanked me toward his face and licked through my arousal, taking the taste of me inside and leaving a moan behind.
It was rough and needy, and the vibration of it felt even better than my very favorite toy.
“God, Mel, you must mainline sugar, you taste so fucking sweet,” he teased and licked once more, before flicking the tip of his tongue against my clit. I smiled at both the feel and his words, and then he flicked my clit again.
Oh, fuck.
“God, you taste so fucking good,” he growled against my skin. “I could eat you forever.”
Seconds later, he moved to his feet, standing before me again. I laughed my annoyance, a scene from Titanic popping unbidden into my head
“You’re just as bad as Rose,” I accused. “Promising Jack she’d never let go just before she fucking did it.”
He smiled and grabbed both sides of my face to bring me close enough that our lips almost touched. “I need to feel you,” he explained. “Us. You and me.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Now,” he demanded through gritted teeth. “I need to feel your perfect cunt wrapped around my cock, Mel.”
God, yes.
“Get on your knees,” he instructed with one hand gently wrapped around my neck. “Let me see that glorious ass in the air.”
He didn’t have to ask twice. My knees hit the bed seconds later, and he helped me tip my ass farther into the air.
“Fuck,” he gritted out, connecting us in one swift thrust.
A guttural moan escaped my lungs, and sparks danced behind my eyes. God, he felt so good.
“Never stop doing this,” I whimpered as he picked up the pace, sliding his cock in and out with deep and heavy strokes. “Never ever stop doing this.”
“Never,” he groaned in agreement.
Honestly, it was the best thing I’d ever felt. I’d be willing to sign on to live like that movie Groundhog Day as long as today was the one on repeat.
The tip of his cock rubbed just the right spot, like his length was made to pleasure me, and by the way he was grunting behind me, I could tell he felt the same. Incomprehensible moans spilled from my lungs while Will pushed his cock deep and pulled it back again, speeding up until I developed a keening cry. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chanted.
“Let go, Mel.”
I shook my head against the blinding pleasure, completely against the prospect of letting this blissful heaven end, but the perfect biology of our two bodies together worked against me. I cried out as everything good and right hit me so hard I thought I might black out, and Will, pressed to the hilt, climaxed inside of me simultaneously.
Time. Space. Safe sex. None of it existed in that moment. Still connected, all we felt was our perfect, intimate joining and the mind-blowing orgasms that had washed over both us until we were lying breathless and panting on Will’s bed.
But slowly, as he pulled his cock free from me, everything came filtering back.
Time. Space. Safe sex.
Holy hell. What in the fucking fuck?
I’d never slept with someone unprotected in my life. Even in my five-year stint with Eli, I’d been mindful enough to at least discuss birth control.
With his back on the bed and his chest moving up and down with deep breaths, Will turned his head to meet my eyes. “What was that?”
“I have no idea,” I answered honestly, a little scared by the prospect of how powerful it all was—how fully I’d let myself go.
“That was…” he started, only to run out of words immediately. I didn’t blame him. I couldn’t find any words to describe it either.
“I know.”
“I think my orgasm made me lose brain cells.”
A soft giggle fell from my lips at the starkly honest truth. “Ditto.”
“Question,” he said, his gaze turning serious as it searched mine. “This is painfully late…but are you on birth control?”
I nodded, relieved I at least wasn’t that big of an idiot. “Now, sir, I see your bet and raise you one…”
He grinned. “Shoot.”
“Have you been tested?” I asked, melting into his happiness like a loon. God, he’s distracting. I shook my head to clear it of his voodoo and remember the responsible things. Adult things. Things I should know better than to wait to ask until after fucking my boss. “No STDs or weird fungal infections I should know about?”
“Clean as a whistle.”
“That’s good to hear.”
He shook his head, closing his eyes—apparently just as embarrassed as I was. “It’s real fucking sad that an obstetrician and a labor and delivery nurse didn’t have the safe-sex talk before the sex actually occurred.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “That’s not something I…uh…do often…or ever, actually.”
He grinned. “The last time I did anything without a condom, I was a fifteen-year-old virgin and played just the tip with my teenage girlfriend. It had lasted all of thirty seconds before her minister father came strolling in the front door.”
I laughed at that.
“Yeah,” he added. “This isn’t how I usually do things.”
“Me either.”
“I just wanted you so bad,” he whispered. “Honestly, Mel, I’m not sure I was even conscious.”
“Me too,” I agreed. Me fucking too. And as insane as it made me feel, I couldn’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.
“Wanna go again?”
He didn’t even blink. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather repeat.”
Sold!
Melody’s heart, for the price of one comment.