Forever?
Would you marry me and mother my children?
Unlikely. So,sounlikely. Reality hits with a gut punch, and I drag my hand down my face.
The not-yet-rusty dagger someone else lodged in my chest twists a little deeper, and I focus all my attention on the nice girl in front of me so I don’t have to think about the mean one who carved up my heart.
I smile through the pain and try to imagine myself as young and unscathed as the beautiful girl across the table.
“Is Bates your first name or last name?” she asks.
“First.”
Her eyebrows lift sweetly. “Interesting.”
I snort. “I assure you it’s the only thing about me that is.”
Her gaze drops to the ink on my arm, following the art until it disappears beneath my rolled-up shirt sleeves. “I doubt that. What questions did you have for me in that long-answer version of your affirmative response to my proposal?”
I sip my beer, considering the mouthful she just said.
As far as I know, only intellectual academic-types talk like that. That’s not the kind of crowd I usually hang out with, but I don’t hate it — quite the opposite, actually. It’s new to me, and refreshing. Every time she opens her mouth, she sparks some new, exciting thing inside me.
There’s a good chance I’m going to bore the shit out of her when I speak, though. Probably best to let her do all the talking, so she doesn’t figure that out and change her mind about me. For some unfathomable reason, she’s chosen to invite me on a saucy adventure, and I don’t want to disappoint her.
2
LANA
Bates watches me and sips his beer while he mulls over his questions.
He’s been quiet for a long time, so he must have a lot of them.
That can’t be a good sign.
The more he learns about me, the less he’ll like me. That’s always the way. Hopefully, he’ll keep the Q & A superficial and brief, so I’ll still have a chance to get lucky.
I try to be patient, but his smoldering gaze makes my insides feel…butterflyrric. Is that a word? I haven’t had a man put butterflies inside me before, and I always wondered what people meant when they talked about this kind of nervous excitement. I want to enjoy it, but I’m not sure how much longer I can sit still while it’s happening. It’s making me restless and I want it to end, but I’m almost certain that the only way to stop it is to actually have sex with him or leave. I know which I’d rather.
Hurry up and work, tequila. I need your common-sense-defying properties to help me make bold moves on this hotter than hot,verymasculine man.
I keep my head low and peek up at Bates through my lashes.
His dark beard is peppered with a few silvers, and I don’t dare ask him how old he is. It’ll only make me lose my nerve, and I’m barely holding on by a thread as it is.
He looks old enough to be my dad, but he’s very good-looking with an impressive physique. The seams of his shirtsleeves strain to accommodate his biceps, and his forearm muscles bulge in ways that make me feel fragile and delicate. He makes me feel light enough to be swept up and carried off to some place where I’ll be safe and happy and given everything I could think to ask for from this sturdy, mature…
I’m going to have to study up on daddy issues first thing tomorrow. I think I might have them.
I’ve been so focused on my studies and work that I’ve never really thought to scope out an older guy, but the moment I laid eyes on Bates, attraction hit me like a ton of rocks. Both curiosity and desire have been pushing me to confront this unfamiliar internal neediness head-on, and I’ll be doing my best not to scare him off before we get to… the climax of the evening — hopefully.
This isn’t the first time I’ve tried to entice a man into bed, but I’ve had little success so far. My frank mouth and lack of interest in adhering to more typical social protocols mean I don’t perform especially well in the dating arena, and I’m afraid of ruining this currently very positive interaction. I’ve never been more excited and nervous than I am right now. Bates exudes experience in a way that makes my entire being tingle in delightfully pleasant ways, but when he growled and told me never to apologize for being myself…?
I don’t want to believe I’m stupid enough to make a rookie mistake like falling in love with a man I’ve just met, but I think I may be in actual danger of it.
Nobody haseversuggested I should be unapologetically myself. Usually I’m told the exact opposite, and the notionthat Bates could be an advocate for my genuine self is quite unexpected and rather overwhelming.
There are things happening in my body that I don’t think I can deal with by myself — like the voracious sexual appetite that’s flared to life deep within my core. I need attending to, and I’m quarter-convinced I might actually die if Bates decides to make other plans for his evening.
