Zoey
Dating has always made me super nervous. I’ve changed in and out of almost every piece of fabric in my closet before settling right back into the second dress I tried on—a black lacy halter top—and the third pair of heels—black, strappy, open toes.
My closet is a mess now, clothes scattered everywhere, hanging half off the hangers, heels kicked off to the side instead of neatly placed, skirts no longer in any particular order.
I’m a ball of anxiety as I get ready. My hair is being rebellious and giving me a fit. It’s as if every strand feeds off my nervous energy and is spazzing out. I wanted to wear it down, but it’s rebuking the simple idea, so I throw it up into a pretty ponytail with added soft waves.
I’m scrambling, shaking, and excited. Butterflies explode at the sound of the knock on my door and I stumble toward the knob, clumsily pulling it open, out of breath like I’ve run a marathon.
He’s in a pair of dark washed jeans with a gray button up shirt that cherishes and shows off his muscles. His hair is disheveled, but in the sexiest “we just had sex” mess. His large grin has his green eyes glinting.
“Hey.” My sigh floats out on a dream-laced exhale.
His left brow quirks up. “I’m glad I’m not the only one drooling. You ready?”
I nod…without voice, scared of how ridiculous I might sound.
He clutches my hand and tips his head. “Come on. Let’s grab something to eat.”
The restaurant is top notch—nowhere I’ve eaten before because it’s entirely out of my pay grade. Luxury and wealth come to mind and I’m not sure I’m high-class enough to eat here.
The ambiance is romantic with tables spread far apart, numerous lights hanging above them by single wires to give the resemblance of a twilight sky. In the center of the table sits a candle holder that looks like a lily tree with three tea candles burning.
“You lit the candles,” I say timorously.
He hasn’t stopped grinning, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“This is really nice.” I take a small sip of my red wine, begging for my nerves to settle. It’s causing me to be scattered and my thoughts to evade me.
He tilts his head slightly. “You sound dubious.”
I chew the corner of my lip and fidget with the edge of the red cloth napkin in my lap. “It’s beautiful. I’ve never been to a restaurant this upscale.” I lift my gaze to him and scrunch my nose. “I’m a little out of my comfort zone. It’s making me anxious.”
He studies me, like really looks at me for what feels like an eternity before he speaks. “You’re unconcerned with materialistic things. That’s something about you I like.”
“Being from the country, I’ve learned to love the simpler things in life,” I ramble off.
“Most women dream of being flowered with gifts and treated as a princess,” he says.
“I can understand. It’s princessy.” I lift a shoulder puffing a giggle.
He shifts in his chair, leaning his elbows on the table. “You’re fucking mesmerizing. You know that?”
My cheeks burn hot and I tuck my chin.
“Soak it up. Enjoy what I offer.”
“I enjoy you,” I specify.
“I come with money and I want to indulge you with it.”
“You don’t need to. I like you for you,” I admit.
“Precisely why I want to.” His grin makes it to his eyes. “You don’t expect it. Makes it more fun when I do.” He rests back into his seat and takes a sip of wine. “Tell me about your parents. You said they’re still working, right?”
Whether he meant to or not, he just threw my security blanket on me. The subject that makes me most comfortable—my family. “My dad’s been working for the same farm equipment factory for years. Last year they offered him a supervisor position. We threw him a party.” I laugh. “My mom helps at the local library, but I think it has more to do with just getting out of the house and away from the farm.”
He blinks and then squints slightly. “They own a farm too?”
I nod. “It’s not as large as it was when I was younger. Dad used to have rows and rows as far as the eyes could see of feed corn. He’d work and sell it to the cattle farmers, but he had to downsize as other cheaper feed became readily available. He picked up more hours at the factory to cover the difference. They still have a small crop, but not nearly the size it once was. He sells to the local farmers who believe in American hard work.”
“Did you help with it when you were younger?”
Memories of sitting on my dad’s lap in the huge combine harvester with miles of corn around us flood me. I smile. “I did sometimes. I was too young and short to drive, so I’d sit there and give him company. We’d laugh and talk. He’d tell me stories and jokes.” I warm from the thought. “I helped Mom more, though. No age would keep me out of the kitchen. We used to bake several cakes or pies, depending on the week, every Thursday and then take them into the city to the homeless shelter on Fridays.” I laugh again at another memory. “Although, my favorite memory was Mom helping me sneak meal scraps from the trash before Dad took it out so I could take them to the dog pound. My dad isn’t much of an animal lover.”
“Your parents raised a woman with a heart of gold,” he says and my heart flips backward.
“They’re really good parents. You know, my dad never had to whip me. He had this look and it scared the hell out of me, straightening me right up. And my mom…well, it was dad’s job to discipline me. Normally, if I got into trouble, I’d do something great and she’d forget about it by supper time.”
He chuckles. “I wish I could say the same thing.”
“I bet you were a hellion,” I state.
He nods his head to the side. “I had my moments.”
“What’s the worst one you’ve got?”
He smiles into his wine glass and takes a sip before answering. “Once I pierced my eyebrow. I was rebellious enough to shove a damn sewing needle into my skin. Had a big, ugly, gaudy gold ring in it. I hated it. My father despised it worse, which only pacified my own hatred and replaced it with the pleasure of pissing the old man off. I was too old for him to discipline…or so I thought. He pitched a tent in the basement and told me to sleep there until I took it out. As unruly as I was, I thought it didn’t sound so bad. Until I realized the basement had no running water or electricity.”
My shoulders shake as my laugh causes tears. “How long did you last?”
He pulls his shoulders back. “I could’ve gone all the way, but two weeks in, the principal caught wind that I was washing my clothes in the shower.”
“What on Earth made you want to pierce your eyebrow?”
He shrugs. “Just to piss him off. He had said something about one of my friends having his ears pierced, so fuck it. I shoved one in where it’d be right in his face. I was turbulent toward him. He had an ugly way of love.”
Our lighthearted conversation turns jaded and I make an attempt to steer it away from the icy waters. “I was mad at my dad for a long time because he wouldn’t let me get a dog. Once I brought a stray home and he gave me the silent treatment for a week. I couldn’t handle it so I broke. Thankfully, Old Poppie, the owner of the store by the school, took it in.”
The rest of the conversation flows freely about the brown shaggy dog and how after school for years I’d stop in to see it. Bailey…she was the sweetest dog with the best second chance, who also loved Momma’s pot roast.
Easton pushes open my apartment door and gestures for me to enter first. The moment the door shuts, he snakes his hands around my shoulders and twists me to face him. His gaze is dark, inflamed with a beautiful intent and desire.
He slants his mouth over mine and kisses me while twisting my ponytail around his hand and tugging it. It forces our kiss to break leaving me panting for more. Drifting his lips from my mouth to my ear and then down to my clavicle, he backs me against the wall.
He slides his hand under the hem of my dress. The moment his thumb grazes over my thong, his eyes flash and a smirk plays on his lips. I watch, fascinated, as he squats, simultaneously taking my underwear down my legs.
Bunching up my dress above him, he leans in. Warmth. Desire. I’m bombarded with sensations as his tongue strokes across my clit and then circles unhurriedly. I moan, dropping my head against the wall, closing my eyes as he presses his fingers into me. He moves my leg over his shoulder and continues. Electricity throbs through me. I wiggle against the pleasurable burn zipping over me.
Fascinating strokes. Perfect pressure. My hips rock. My body starts to shudder. My legs threaten to buckle as he works his tongue over my clit faster, his fingers in rhythm, pushing me higher and higher until…
I’m falling over the crest.
“Oh!” I moan, shoving my hands into his hair, crying out and rolling my hips. The shiver forces my body to jerk and I shake, riding the wave.
As he stands, my dress falls back into place. His heavy lids pour over my shoulders and then he twists me away from him. Slowly, he unzips my dress and it falls to the floor. He guides me, taking several steps and molding his body against mine, as he bends me over the arm of the couch.
“Your ass is marvelous…” He says, dragging his hand over the curve.
His zipper lowers. The condom wrapper rips open. I’m overwhelmed with need and so much anticipation, I whimper as my hips involuntarily sway from side to side, my body begging for him.
“You’d look riveting bent over my desk. Bare. Wet. Begging.” His voice strains. “What do you want, Zoey?” He lines his dick up to me. I whine, wanting more.
He thrusts forward, impaling me quickly. I cry out from the intensity. Slowly he withdraws and then gradually sinks back in. “Is this what you wanted?” he rasps.
“Yes. Please,” I pant my plea, needing so much of him deeply.
With one hand gripping my hip, he uses the other and pushes down the small of my back, forcing me to deepen my arch. His pace picks up as he drives into me, alternating between short and long, gyrating and hard strokes.
My body pulsates with pleasure. My orgasm growing, fervor intertwining within my muscles. Wrapping my ponytail around his hand, he pulls…hard.
I whimper from the pleasure.
“Your pussy feels so good,” he growls. “So fucking wet. You’re gorgeous, Zoey.”
The lecherous way my name drops from his mouth blisters me. I push back, my hips meeting his thrusts, and he surges forward.
I lose it. “Please,” I beg, but for what, I don’t know. Everything.
He digs his fingers into my skin and slams into me, pumping vigorously. I’m fraught with euphoria, torrid heat sizzling. He raises my leg, coercing me to my side, and places it on his shoulder. It forces me to stand on one dangerously shaky leg, but the angle intensifies everything, including the orgasm screaming through me.
High pitched and long, my moan rolls out.
Holding my leg tightly against his chest, his hips gyrate and he plunges forward. “Shit,” he hisses and then becomes frenzied as he plows into his release. He grits his teeth, grunting low and sexy as hell.
After he slows, he lowers my leg and drops his head to the side of my shoulder. His heartbeat bangs against my side, his dick pulsing, his breath rapid.
“Holy shit. I can’t get enough of you…” His breathless words batter my skin.
It takes us a minute to gather our bearings and then as he stands us up, he kisses me so incredibly tenderly. If I didn’t know better, there are emotions…feelings…affection behind it. “I’m staying again.”
It’s a demand I already wanted.
I’m sliding my legs into my shorts when he emerges from the bathroom still gloriously naked. His tanned skin, hard with muscles, stalks to my bed. He drops, snatching my arm, and yanks me into him. With a gentle grasp, he cups the sides of my face and stares with so much intent and devotion, my stomach dips.
“I need you to get over the boss thing you’re stuck on,” he says. “However you have to, separate it from us.”
“What—” I swallow and ask the very question plaguing my thoughts. “What are we doing?”
He places a kiss to my forehead and then moves me to the side, tugging my back to his chest. “I don’t know yet.” The words are in my ear. “Let’s see where this goes.”
He tightens his grip around me and we lie in silence.
Let’s see where this goes… His words repeat over and over. I’m filled with questions, questions I’m scared to ask. Are we exclusive? Are we just sex? Is this serious?
It’s all overwhelming. “Easton?” I say quietly, not sure if he’s asleep and hoping he isn’t.
“Yeah?”
I chicken out. “Good night.”
He nuzzles deeper into my hair. “You think too much, Zoey. It’s bad for you.”
I exhale a breathy giggle. “And how would—”
“You always do,” he says nonchalantly, like I’m not freaking out that he’s reading my mind. “We’ll figure this out.”
We lie in silence, his breath leveling out until I know he’s asleep.
Soft lips kiss my cheek. “Zoey…” Another sweet peck.
I crack open my eyes to the features of his sexy face. The sun is barely up, casting the room a weird blueish orange. “Hmmm?”
“I have to go.” Another soft placement of his lips against my temple. “I have a flight to catch. I’ll text you when I get there. Go back to sleep.”
Feeling…bold? I reach for his arm and pull it into my chest. “But you just got back,” I whine.
He kisses my temple. “Work never slows, baby. I’ll be back Tuesday.”
Baby…
Reluctantly, I let his arm go. “Be careful.”
Pressing his lips to my forehead. “Always. Go back to sleep.”
Yeah right. My heart cramps watching him walk out of my bedroom. Emptiness settles around me when I hear the front door shut. I sigh, sitting up, feeling tired but wide awake. My body unknotted but sore from our sex. I glance over. The spot beside me still bears the ruffled sheets where he had slept.
Last night. This morning. Baby. I feel like we’ve turned over a new leaf.
I’m curled up on the couch when there’s a knock on the door and in struts Britney. She’s slow, eyes squeezed shut.
“You alone?”
I laugh. “One day you’re going to bust in and see something you can’t unsee.”
“We need a code. Like a sock on the door or something.” She flops into my recliner.
“I’m not putting a sock on my door,” I snort. “How about you wait for me to answer the door like a normal person?”
She taps her long finger against her lips. “How about no? I can’t even remember the last time I waited for you to answer it. How about you lock it when he’s here?”
I cock my head to the side. “You’re not afraid to use your key. Example—the other morning when you came bounding in and drooled over Easton.”
“Damn. Yeah. Okay. If the door is locked, I won’t come in. But in all fairness, that was an incredible sight to see. Instantaneous drool.”
I roll my eyes with a chuckle.
“How was the date?” she asks, prying for information.
“Romantic. Sweet. All things Easton Langley has the reputation for.”
“Is he trying to woo you or screw you?”
“I’d venture to say both.”
She studies me with quizzical eyes. “Where’s your heart in all of it?”
I grin a little goofy. “He makes it dance.” I raise my palms to her. “I know. I know. You told me to be leery and I tried, but—”
“Sparks. Attraction. Sexual tension. It’s a perfect equation that will make any heart go flippity flop,” she says.
“I swear there are times I feel he wants more,” I admit.
“How many other women have said the same thing?”
I pinch my nose, closing my eyes. I don’t want to think of it. “Please don’t remind me.”
“I’m just saying, Zoe—”
My phone chimes.
Easton: You know this hotel would be perfect if you were in the bed when I walked in.
Me: You left me in the bed.
Easton: Reluctantly, might I add. You were naked and your morning puffy face is beautiful.
I feel the blush creeping up my neck.
Easton: Dinner when I get back?
Me: I’d love to.
Easton: Have a good weekend.
I sigh, a little broken hearted when I feel Britney’s stare on me.
“How’s Easton?” She grins knowingly.
“He just got to the hotel.”
She scratches her head. “Maybe we’re wrong here. Maybe we’re blind to the subtle hints?”
“What do you mean?”
She scoots to the end of the cushion, resting her elbows on her thighs. “What booty call gets a check in? None.”
I titter. “The assistant does.”
Her gaze turns dead serious as she draws a brow down low. “He didn’t do that before he started sleeping with you. Maybe he is after more than just horny and good lays.”
I bite my thumb nail. “Is it bad I’m hoping so?”
She shrugs, pursing her lips. “Just be careful. We know the stories he leaves behind. Hedge yourself and take it slow.” She rises to her feet. “I’m off for a wild night in the sack with Garret before he goes to work tonight. Late shift and all.”
It’s my turn to flip the subject on her. “You’re pretty serious about him.”
There’s a flicker in her eyes when she beams. “What makes you think that?”
“The fact he’s still around.”
“I like him. He’s not clingy. He’s fantastic in bed. And damn he’s pretty to look at. I guess I’m in the same limbo boat as you are. Waiting to see where things are going, except I’m not screwing the sexiest man in Denver.” She pauses. “Bitch.”
I laugh.
“Oh!” She points to me. “Tuesday night, be here or be square. Tuesday pizza night is back in full effect, except I’m bringing Garret. Invite Easton if you’d like. I just thought it would be nice to squeeze our routine in since it’s been fooorreevveer since we’ve had one.”
“Whose turn is it to get the pizza?”
“I’ll grab it. Next time it’s on you.” She winks.
The door shuts me into my tranquil silence. I rest back on the couch. Tuesday night pizza has always been fun. It started off as a way to get out of cooking since we both had full-time jobs, but then it turned into a gossip fest, some nights morphing into a quiet movie night.
I glance back to my phone, rereading the texts from Easton. Pizza night with our guys here will be interesting.