The image of her fully naked and sweaty unfurled in his mind, and he had to mentally brace himself. He needed to shift the tone of the conversation… otherwise he’d still leave the restaurant with a massive erection. His cock ached, his balls never felt so full and tight before. Change the subject, man. Before you pounce on her in this booth. “So tell me more about yourself, Alyssa.”
“You know what? I’ve told you about my past and career aspirations, but you’re the one who hasn’t shared much,” she said, flipping the screen on him.
He sipped his wine. “What do you want to know?”
“For starters, how was your first time?”
“I was fourteen. Had a girlfriend around the same age for a year,” he said, saving the detail that he’d lasted about five seconds. He’d come a long way from his first time, that was for sure. Besides, the excitement he’d felt with his girlfriend—which then seemed like the most vibrant emotion he’d ever experienced—paled in comparison to the desire burning in his blood for her. In fact, he couldn’t remember any other woman who’d turned him on so feverishly. Would it all go away once he bit the forbidden fruit?
She wiped her kissable lips on the cloth napkin. “And the last? When was the last time you had sex?”
He recollected a vague memory of a woman his age he took to bed after a few drinks. “About four months.”
She leaned in. “Who was she?”
“Someone I met on an app.”
“Okay,” she said, then her shoulders dropped a bit, the answer pleasing her at some level.
“No one special,” he assured her. Being relieved that she was relieved that he didn’t have meaningful sex lately shouldn’t slap a smile on his lips.
“I like how honest you are.”
“It has put me in trouble before, but that’s all I’ve got,” he said truthfully. Sandra always suggested he could be more tactful about things, and she had a point. But he had a hard time crossing lines, and hated the emotional gymnastics he’d go through just to make others happy—or at least content.
She tilted her head to the side, and he caught a waft of the flowery, fresh notes of her fragrance. “I hear you. Seems like you haven’t really dated seriously after your divorce, right?”
“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Even though I wanted to get divorced, I had to process it for a while. Then I realized I was doing better than intended,” he said. Took him a few months to even date after his divorce. He’d taken his marriage seriously, too seriously according to his ex, and though he knew he had to end it, still, a part of him ached for a while. More like the mourning of the life he’d planned.
“I can see you as the lone wolf.”
“Always been that way. Small family, only child. I always had just enough friends to make me marginally social.”
She gave him that look, a delicious spark of interest in her eyes. She wasn’t just small talking… she wanted to know these things. “Is that how you’ve become a screenwriter?”
“I always enjoyed reading and writing. Then, you know, I had to pick a career, and to my parent’s shock, I did creative writing,” he said, still remembering his father’s expression when he told him he’d not pursue a more financially secure occupation. Those three words still stung, but he couldn’t blame his dad. Most screenwriters weren’t as lucky as he had been.
“They didn’t support you?”
“They did in the long run, but at first they were worried it wouldn’t be steady income.”
She ran her fingers over his forearm, the touch enough to shoot his heartrate. “Well, you proved them wrong.”
Tonight, he’d also prove something to himself. He’d prove that he’d be able to get her into bed and let her go when the time came… with his heart unscathed.
Knox pulled her to him, her hips rocking against his front, the second they walked past his front door. During the way here, he’d talked about current events, and the distraction kept her at ease, but now, as she felt his hard-on, she quivered. This was really happening. Now.
He tossed her hair to the side, and kissed her neck. She sighed into him, a thrill of excitement washing away her worries. “God, you’re sexy.” He lowered his hands to her hips, his touch strong, warm. “Are you okay, Alyssa?” he asked, a trace of concern in his voice.
She knew that if she changed her mind, he’d understand. She hadn’t changed her mind, though. Insecurities stabbed at her. Having the real date with him at the restaurant opened her eyes even more to the worldly, smart, caring man he was. And as for her… she was a masseuse student who had never left the country. Hell, she had never left California.
She’d played the seduction game… but now she’d have to show it.
“We don’t have to do anything, baby,” he said, his voice smooth. He turned around to see her.
“Oh, no, that’s not it,” she hurried to say. Damn it, she knew all the work she’d done to even get so far with him. She wouldn’t walk away from it now. “I’m just worried… what if I’m not good at sex? What if I make it awkward and you never want to see me again?” That would be even worse than their imminent break-up from the affair when the end of summer came. She’d assumed they’d get along sexually, but what if they didn’t? “I’m not experienced as the women you date, and I’m just—”
He took her hand in his. She locked her eyes onto his, and her stomach lurched. He gazed at her with warmth and interest, a smile pulling at his lips, his features softening. It was like a feather prickled her nerve endings, and she had a hard time standing upright. He lifted her hand to his heart, and covered her hand with his, pressing her palm against the wild heartbeats of his.
