“I want to do a lot more than that, but a date is a place to start. Does Sam have too great a hold on you?”
“Reign, stop. I can’t believe you want to go out with me. Are you looking for someone permanent or a casual thing?”
“If you’re asking, do I want to get in your pants, bang you a few times, and then go on my merry way, the answer is fuck no. I’m ready to settle down. You’ve grabbed my attention like no one I’ve met. The long term is what I hope for, but we have to get to know each other. See if we fit, I get that. I’m asking for a chance.”
So many things raced through my head. Excitement and anxiety over what he was suggesting. Unease at the thought of telling Sam that I wouldn’t see him again. I’d been wondering since the day at the hospital when I knew he lied if I should continue to see him. Sure, he was nice and fun, but the realitywas clear to me. If there were a chance for Reign and me, I’d want to take it even if it ended up being nothing.
“You’re sure you want that? I need you to be, Reign. I’m not asking for a promise of forever. I know that’s ridiculous. But if you’re not positive you want to try for something other than a booty call, don’t ask me.”
The next thing I knew, he slid off the couch to kneel at my feet. His hands came to rest on both arms of my chair. He leaned close. The intensity in his gaze made my body feel charged.
“I’m not on the prowl for sex, Anastasia. Not to sound conceited or crude, but I can easily get that without taking a woman on a date. I want way more, but if you agree, you can’t see anyone else. You’ll have to give up seeing Sam. I won’t share you.” There was a growl at the end of his voice when he said Sam’s name.
Two beats were all it took for me to take the plunge. “Yes, Reign, I’ll date you and see where this goes. And there will be no more seeing Sam or anyone else. That goes for you as well.”
He groaned, then stated hoarsely, “God, I need to kiss you. Is it too soon? Or should we wait until after a few dates?”
I leaned forward, then whispered, “I believe those treatment sessions we had count.”
Reign’s lips met mine. I was prepared for him to consume my mouth. Instead, his kiss was gentle, yet so thrilling. I swore I heard him purr. His lips pressed into mine and released four times before he put distance between us.
“I tried not to hurt your sore mouth. Did I do okay?”
My answer was to kiss him, but mine was harder and more uncontrollable. I didn’t care whether it hurt my cut lip. Suddenly, Reign rose, encircled my body with his arms, lifted, turned, and then sat, so I landed on his lap in my chair. A hand came up to bury itself in my hair. I don’t know how long we kissed before he tore his mouth away, causing me to whimper.
“God, don’t make those sounds. You’re killing me, Anastasia. I’m not fucking this up before we even get started,” he panted.
“What do you suggest we do?” I asked.
“Let’s talk, get to know each other better. Have you had dinner?”
I shook my head.
“Would you be open to my staying and bringing in something to eat? Unless you’re too tired? If so, I can leave, and we’ll make arrangements tomorrow. I want to spend as much time as I can with you.”
“Dinner and talk sound perfect,” I agreed.
And just like that, the evening was set. I could barely wait to see if I’d get another taste of him. I sure prayed so.
?
Last night with Reign felt like days ago. We not only had dinner together and talked about our childhoods, but also had another very gratifying kissing session before he left. He promised he’d be back to see me today. He had a few things he had to do in the morning, then he’d be over.
While he was doing his thing, I called Sam. I wanted to end any expectation between us before it went any further with Reign. The best thing would be to do it in person, but something held me back from asking Sam to come over. I was hesitant to be alone with him. Why? I didn’t know. But I refused to text him, so I called. My hands were sweating.
“Good morning, Stasia. How are you feeling? You must’ve read my mind. I was planning to come see you today.” Sam said pleasantly.
“Hello, Sam, I’m not doing too badly. I’m sore and resting, but I’m on the mend. Do you have time to talk for a few minutes?” I asked.
I wasn't going to hedge the reason for the call. It was better to get it out.
“Sure, what’s up? Do you need something?” he asked. There was a thread of caution in his tone.
“I wanted to speak to you about the past month, the times we’ve met for coffee and meals. First, I am so grateful to have met you. That first night at my parents’ house, you know how much I dreaded that. But you were so different from what I dreaded. You understood me in a way my family doesn’t. I hadn’t laughed that much in ages.
“And then the subsequent times we met for coffee and meals, plus the texts, made me feel seen and understood for the first time in a long time. Thank you, Sam. You have no idea how much that meant to me.”
“Meant? Stasia, what’s going on?” Sam asked. His tone was cautious, maybe a bit sharp.
