Kate
My second date with Zander was epic. I mean, EPIC. He gave me two orgasms through my clothes by kissing me with a few carefully timed thrusts against a tree in a Chicago city park. I was shocked the first time it happened, as well as a little embarrassed. Who comes from just kissing and heavy petting? Me obviously, since we proved it wasn’t just a one hit wonder. But despite my mind and body having other ideas when we got home, Zander was again a perfect gentleman, kissing me against my bedroom door before pushing me behind it and bidding me goodnight.
Stupid fucking three date rule. Who was the dumbass who wanted to enforce that one?
It’s Friday, and Zander is out working a full night of gigs, so I went out for a quick bite to eat with Nathan, and now I’m snuggled on the couch watching How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days and trying to learn some tips. You know, just in case I decide to try and ruin whatever is growing between the two of us. It may have only been two dates, but we’ve been living together for nearly three weeks and we have known each other, albeit at a distance most of the time, for over a year.
We haven’t had “the talk” . . . is “the talk” even something adults do anymore? Who knows, but I log on to Chicago Singles and send one last message to Nightdancer23 before I cancel my profile.
After reading the message three times, and editing it twice, I push send. I know it sounds distant and formal, but as much as the intellectual connection was there between us, without meeting in person and seeing whether that physical connection was there, it was never going to be anything more than an online friendship.
Fireinthesky24: Hi. Sorry for not coming on here sooner, but I’ve been a bit distracted, of the good variety. That friend I told you about who was staying with me and was taking me out for a date? Well, things are going really well with him, and I’m hoping that things continue to go well with him. Part of that means canceling my membership to this site. I feel that it’s disrespectful to stay on here when I should be focusing on building the relationship with him. I hope you understand, and I just want to let you know how much I’ve enjoyed talking to you. It’s been great to make a friend on here, if not anything else. Who would’ve thought I’d meet a guy offline after trying to find one online? I wish you all the best in the future, and I just know that a great, funny, easygoing guy like yourself will get snapped up super quick.
Now I’m waiting for Zander to get home. I don’t want to seem like the eager beaver by waiting up for him . . . get it? Eager beaver? Well, actually, that’s not far from the truth to be honest. I’m so pent up. I’ve been trying to rip the label off my wine bottle all night—yes, I’m one bottle in and on a roll—and my nether regions are so ready to party that they’re threatening to pack up and leave town.
So what is a girl to do? She waits up for her two date maybe boyfriend to finish stripping in front of hordes of horny, drunk women, and come home to her, hopefully needing some relief of the oral variety. Or the vaginal variety. How about two for the price of one?
Remember, when I’m drunk I become very loose-lipped, so you’ll have to bear with me.
For the past few days, all I’ve been able to think about is Zander’s mouth . . . and his arms . . . and those firm biceps that feel so good under my hands . . . and that hard steel between his legs that I’ve felt on more than one occasion now . . .
So what is a girl to do? Get drunk, get horny . . . ier, and wait for her man. I want him to be my man, desperately. I find myself excited to wake up in the morning and see his gorgeous face waiting for me with a freshly poured brew in his hand. I’m eager to finish up work and get home in the hope that I beat him just so that I can make dinner for him, and I love snuggling up on the couch with him watching mindless television, just spending time together.
There has been no pressure from him for sex. Nothing more than the heavy petting in the park. I’m well aware of his penchant for public, outdoors sex, and although my sexual adventures have generally been indoors, and probably nowhere near as thrilling as his have been, I’m more than willing to give whatever he has to offer a try. Try everything once, maybe twice just to be sure.
I check the time and see that it’s after eleven p.m. With him still not home, and my drunken mind wandering to rather dangerous places, I pour the rest of my wine into my glass and drink my sorrows away.
And that is the last thing that I remember.
Zander
After three gigs, I’m mentally and physically exhausted. I may work out, but dancing and performing for forty-five minutes is way harder than you think. And three of those in one night is borderline insane but the boss was caught short, so I offered to cover. My theory is that if I earn enough tonight, I can take a day off next weekend, or even the whole weekend to rest and spend time with Kate.
I’ve got it bad, and I don’t even care if I sound like a sap. She is better than I could have imagined. Three times this week I’ve come home from the academy, and she’s been cooking dinner for us with a cold beer in the fridge waiting for me. What makes it better still is that I’m totally not expecting her to do it, but she tells me she wants to. We still haven’t had sex, we haven’t even slept in the same bed together yet. But shockingly, I’m in no rush. I want Kate to stick to her three date rule. I don’t want her to have any reason to question what we have and what we’re building.
When I finally walk in the door close to midnight, I find a blank screen on the TV and a sleeping Kate curled up on the couch with her wine glass clutched in her hand like her life depends on it. I grin at her. She looks so damn cute and she’s making these adorable soft snoring noises, but it’s more than that. She was waiting up for me, and I’ve never had that. I’ve never had this intimacy, this level of anything with a woman before, and I like it. I like it a lot. Is this what happens when you embark on relationships not solely based on casual sex? If so, I think I might have been missing out.
I put my bag down, and after turning off the TV, I wrench the wine glass from her hand, and place it on the table behind me. I see an empty wine bottle on the coffee table and chuckle to myself as I lift her up into my arms, cradling her against me with one arm around her back, the other underneath her knees.
She buries her head in my neck as I walk toward her bedroom. The smell of her hair—a vanilla concoction I’ve seen in the bathroom—fills my senses, and fuck if it doesn’t fill my brain with thoughts that are really not helpful right now. The warmth of her breath laced with her favorite wine taunts me as I pull the covers back and lay her down on her bed, softly placing her head on the pillow. She opens her eyes slowly, smiling when she sees me. She wraps her arms around my neck to stop my retreat.
“You came home.” Drunk or not, thinking that this is home for me isn’t too short off the mark.
“Of course I did. Didn’t want to be anywhere else,” I reply as I kiss her forehead.
“I want you,” she whispers in a soft drunken slur as her eyes close again. She tries to pull me closer, but I put an arm to the bed and hold my ground, leaning above her and taking in the sight of my drunken cute as hell firebird in person.
“I want you so bad it hurts, babe, but my plans involve you being sober, coherent and very much awake. So how about we wait for that third date and really make it worth our while?”
Her hands slip down my chest, gripping tightly to my T-shirt. “Hmmm. Stay with me then,” she rasps, opening her eyes again. I can see how much she wants this. One look like that, and I’ll give her the world and ask her if she needs anything else.
“Never thought you’d ask.” She loosens her grip, allowing me to stand. I reach over my shoulder and pull my t-shirt off before stepping out of my jeans.
“Do you need to get changed, babe?” I ask, earning a shake of her head, her eyes closing again as sleep threatens to take hold. She’s wearing a tight tank with no bra which I’m begging my cock to ignore, and short, silk pajama bottoms.
“Nope . . . I’m perfect.” Yes, goddammit, you are.
I walk around the four-poster bed. All it needs is drapes around the sides, and it would be like those princess beds you see in movies. I remember when I first saw her room all those months ago, and thought it was a perfect fit for her. Never did I think I’d be sleeping with her in it. And only sleeping.
As I get into bed and lie down, Kate rolls over and straight into my arms. Oh shit. I’m in fucking deep trouble now. This girl . . . that body . . . those damn, silky shorts . . . my cock jerks awake, cursing me for teasing him constantly.
No, this is not about sex. It never has been with Kate; otherwise I would have been in this bed, in various stages of nakedness, long before now. I might as well hand in my man card because this girl has gotten under my skin in the seven weeks it’s been since I saw her in the bar on her date. Bullshit, it was well before that, but now I don’t think there is any way I can get her out again, even if she tried.
My last thought before sleep finally takes me is how the fuck did I get so lucky.
Kate
I wake up plastered to a warm body. And I mean plastered. One arm is underneath my head, the other is over a slow beating heart, my legs are tangled with long, hard muscular ones and my pelvis is being stabbed by either a rather hard stick, or the stiffest cock I’ve ever felt against me.
Nope, I must still be dreaming. There is no way I could have dragged Zander to my bed and had my way with him—finally!—and not remember it. That would be a violation of the ‘all that is holy’ girl code, and that wouldn’t fly. You never just ‘sleep’ with a man like Zander, you let him own your soul.
I lie there for a few more minutes, my mind racing at thoughts of what I’m wearing, was it cute, what happened last night, then oh shit, my hair must be a mess, my breath must be horrendous and—eww, yuck!—I forgot to brush my teeth before bed. Then there are the flashes of memories. The way he carried me to bed, how I nuzzled his neck, how happy I was that he was home, and him telling me he didn’t want to be anywhere else.
I smile and slowly open my eyes, being met with the gorgeous sight of Zander Roberts lying in my bed beside me, his eyes still closed, his breathing steady as he sleeps off his late night. He must have gotten home late if I had conked out on the couch. He must think I’m such a lush.
Lying beside him as still as I can, I decide that if I never have this opportunity again, I owe it to myself to at least explore my surroundings.
In short, his body.
I prop my head up on one elbow and start with his smooth chest. I can’t imagine him having chest hair, but if he does, he obviously has to keep it short for his night job. Fuck if I don’t like it smooth, though. I flex my fingers gently into his pecs as I watch his flat nipples harden. Damn, that’s hot. All I want to do right now is reach over and run my tongue over his chest. I wonder if he’ll wake up if I do that? Is it crossing the invisible line that we, more specifically I have set for no sex before the third date. Can it be argued that we’ve had many dates, just not of the official going out and doing something variety?
Deciding that I should take opportunities like this while the going is good, I lean my head down and softly lick over his nipple. He tastes just like I imagined; his skin slightly salty, but oh so fucking delicious. I feel his heartbeat race, and I swear I feel his cock twitch against my thigh, but it doesn’t deter me. I rake my fingertips down his abs, counting in twos and stopping at eight, just as the V of his hips begins to taunt me.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, babe,” I hear from behind my head as I jump in fright.
I pull back and look up to see the most devilish grin on his beautiful face.
“Hi,” I say sheepishly.
“Hey yourself. Couldn’t help yourself, huh?” His shit eating grin gets bigger.
“Seems not,” I say. “Although, in all fairness, I was surprised to wake up plastered against you.”
“Why? You asked me to sleep with you, and I couldn’t help but oblige.” The bastard winks at me when my expression changes to that of horror.
“I did not ask you to sleep with me! Oh shit, did I?”
“I don’t know whether to be offended or amused.”
I feel my cheeks go hot. “I mean . . . um . . . did I ask to sleep with you?”
“You asked me to stay with you, after telling me in your very adorable drunken sleepy state that you wanted me.”
Deciding that now is not the time to back down to my insecurities, I just nod. ‘Well I do, so that wasn’t the drunk or sleepy part of me talking.”
With a quick flip, I find myself lying flat on my back with his hard everywhere body pressing down into mine. “That would explain the early morning discovery mission then,” he adds.
God, he feels good lying on top of me. “Mmm hmm.”
“For the record, I loved sleeping next to you. You’re a very cuddly sleeper.” He rests his weight on one arm and sweeps my hair back off my face, causing my breath to catch.
“I always have been. Ask my mom. I used to wake up in the middle of the night and crawl into bed between her and dad for years,” I say nervously.
“Well, if you ever wake up in the middle of the night, you’re always welcome to crawl into bed with me,” he says. His eyes seem to study my face, but I can’t stop my eyes from dropping to his lips. Have I told you how much I love kissing this man?
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to be forced to kiss you.”
“Mmm hmm,” I reply, totally distracted by the perfect curved lips that are just inches away from mine.
“You asked for it.”
Suddenly, his tongue is in my open mouth, and he’s kissing the life out of me, but I’m not complaining. I’m fully on board with this move. So on board that I grip his hair in my hands and pull his head even closer, his still hard cock against my stomach, my thighs clenching his.
He pulls back all too soon. “Babe, I have to stop or else I’m gonna lose it, and I want our first time together to be special for you. Not a five minute romp where I totally embarrass myself with my lack of endurance.”
I giggle at the absurdity of that sentence. There is no way that Zander would ever have any issue with stamina. “I think we’ve proven that you have more endurance than me when it comes to kissing.”
He looks down at me and smirks. “True, although in your case, that was one of the hottest fucking moments in my entire life.”
Holy mother of god. That just amps up my libido again, and I wish he’d just take me now.
Squeezing my thighs against his hips, I pull his head down and whisper in his ear, “You sure we can’t just skip the third date and go straight to the sex?”
His entire body goes rigid, and he pulls back to look at me, finally breaking his gaze when he shakes his head as if he’s trying to break himself out of a haze. “Babe, I told you it would happen, but you didn’t believe me.”
I frown, not following him.
“I told you it would be a hard task keeping you from jumping me. Maybe the drunken cuteness was just a ruse to get me into your bed.” Then the bastard winks, and I know he’s playing me.
“Cocky much?” I say, swatting his shoulder.
With one deep long stroke up my stomach, I instantly regret my choice of words.
“Much. Now I’m going to go cook pancakes, for breakfast this time, and once you mistakenly convince yourself that you’ve improved on the gorgeous goddess I had the pleasure of waking up to, your coffee will be waiting for you.”
With a quick, hard kiss, he achingly pulls his body away from mine, and I get the fine view of his boxer clad ass walking into our joint bathroom.
It’s a good morning indeed.