We take the steps to her porch, and she fishes her keys out of her purse. My breath tastes hot as anticipation kicks in.How will this go? Do I kiss her? Do I go in?
Internally, I groan. I can’t go in. If I go in, I’ll fuck her.
“No,” I say, my balls beginning to ache. “I live in an apartment. When I moved back to Tennessee after I retired fromfootball, I didn’t really know how long the podcast would last or where I wanted to end up. So I just rented until I get a long-term plan in place.”
“And you were on my case about not having a plan,” she teases.
“I have one now.”
She hums, twisting the knob and letting the door swing open. “Does it include coming inside for a drink?”
Fuck. Me.
Her tongue drags along her bottom lip, leaving a wet trail behind it. My eyes are glued to that sexy little mouth, and all I can think about is having those lips wrapped around my cock. Life is so unfair.
“I can’t,” I say, clearing my throat.
She arches a brow. “What do you mean that you can’t?”
“I don’t fuck on the first date.”
“That’s fine,” she says, tracing my jawline with the tip of her finger. “I do.”
My chuckle is strangled with need and regret. This is the start to a scene that I’ve fantasized about a thousand times while coming in my hand. It starts here and moves just over the threshold, where she falls to her knees, looking up at me through those fucking lashes while sucking my cock down her throat.
“See,” I say, nipping at her finger. Her giggle is nearly my undoing. “That’s why we can’t. This is supposed to be a new experience for you.”
She groans, rolling her eyes. “Fine. We’ll do anal on the first date. That’s never happened before.”
I grip the doorframe to keep myself from grabbingher.
“You’re the one who said this was real,” she says breathily, standing so close to me that if I breathe too deeply, we’ll touch. “What’s wrong with fucking your boyfriend?”
It’s now or never. I either walk off this porch and drive away in the next five seconds, or she’s going to be bent over the first surface in her house. And as much as I want, maybe even need to do that, I can’t. Because if I do that, I’m just like every other fucker in her life.
Tonight has been better than I hoped. Gianna has surprised me at every turn. I knew she was interesting and that we had things in common, but I didn’t expect her to be such easy company. The conversation flowed like water from one topic to the next. And she was so great to the restaurant staff, even straightening the table as much as she could so it would be simpler for them to clear after we left.
And watching her try each plate, tasting each dish as if it were a work of art?Yeah, I can’t be thinking about her lips wrapped around anything right now.
“Good night,” I say, pushing away from her and walking down the sidewalk.
“Are you serious?”
“Get inside and lock the door.”
“I don’t even get a kiss good night?”
Once I’m on the other side of my SUV, I pause. She’s on the porch, hands on her hips, clearly upset with me … and it’s the cutest, sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
“One of these days, I’ll make it up to you.” I smirk.
“Fine.” She drops her hands and smirks back at me. “I’ll make you regret this.”
“I have no doubt.”
Gianna sighs as if she’s done with my games. “Stop messing around. You’re not really going to leave.”
Before I can banter with her anymore and find myself climbing those steps once again, I hop in my vehicle, wait until she’s in the house, and then speed away while I still can.
