KYLIE KING
CONTENTS
ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN EPILOGUE
About the Author Books By Kylie
Copyright © 2020 Kylie King
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ONE
Hannah
I STARE at my sister and shake my head as I watch her fingers move a mile a minute over the screen of her phone. “Who could you possibly be texting so much and sofast, Krys?” I ask.
Krys takes a quick peek over her phone at me before focusing on the screen of it again and ignoring me.
I grab the pint of butter pecan ice cream from counter and pad barefoot across her apartment to take a seat in my favorite recliner. Well, it’s not my recliner, it’s hers, but she knows that every time I visit (which is, like, every single day) that I go straight for this cushioned brown recliner and curl up with a blanket.
“I already told you who it is for, like, the millionth time,” she says after finally looking away from her screen. She sits up higher on the brown leather sofa and looks at me, finally giving me her undivided attention. “It’s Jacob, remember. I met him on the Match Me app a couple months ago. I swear he’s so amazing, Hannah,” she says with a dreamy sigh. “We went out for lunch yesterday and he was so romantic about it. He pulled out my chair for me, paid for the food, and then took me to get gelato afterward. We ate it on the back of his pickup truck and then made out in his pickup truck for like fifteen minutes. I swear I saw fireworks, sis.”
I roll my eyes. “Sounds like he’s just trying to get in those panties, sis.”
She rolls her eyes and leans back, texting rapidly again when her phone chimes. “It’s not like that and you know it.”
“Actually, no, Krys. What I do know is that when you meet a guy on a datingapp like Match Me, he’s just trying to fuck. You haven’t slept with him, have you?”
“No,” she says begrudgingly, as if she’s hoping that will happen the next time they see each other. My sister is a promiscuous thing.
“Mm-hmm.” I dump a scoop of ice cream in my mouth, eat it, and then say, “that means he’s just waiting for you to give the green light and once he takes what he needs, he’ll probably change.”
“Sounds personal, sis. You sure something like that didn’t happen to you before? Been on any dating apps recently that let you down?” She peers at me over her phone.
“Not at all. Dating apps are for the insecure at heart.” I swallow hard after I say that. It’s such a bitter statement, I know. Just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean it’s not for others to like, like my sister, Krys. “Anyway, what’s the point? I read about all these dating apps and about eighty-five percent of relationships end after only two or three months.”
“Yeah, well I like to focus on the fifteen percent of relationships that survive,” Krys says and for the first time since I got here, she tosses her phone on the sofa and trots to the kitchen. “Seriously, though, Hannah, you should just make an account. Put up a hot as fuck picture of yourself—but not too hot because you don’t want to look like an easy slut who just wants hookups—and the guys will come in quick. I bet you’d love it.”
“I bet I wouldn’t,” I counter, huffing a laugh.
Krys takes out a pasta salad she had earlier from the fridge and pops it into the microwave. “What if I help you set it up? Come on, Hannah! You don’t have to do it for a relationship! Maybe you can just get a hookup, you know? Get the cobwebs off your kitty cat and stop being so bitter for once.”
I laugh. “I am notbitter, Krys!”
“You can be and it’s probably because you haven’t had a man lick or stick that kitty in ages.”
I bust out in a laugh. “Oh my gosh, you sound ridiculous, Krys! Lick or stick my kitty? Who even says that?”
“Oh, I know!” she exclaims, half-bouncing on her toes and ignoring my last question. “What if we make a bet? You sign up for a Match Me account and chat with a few guys. Maybe even meet them if you’re up for it. If you don’t like your experience after a few weeks, you can delete it and I’ll let you come over and raid my fridge all you want, and I’ll never speak a word of your lonely, dusty kitty again.”
I snort. “Um, I already come to raid your fridge without problems. Nice try though.”
“But if you do like it,” she goes on, ignoring my remark, “you have to stop making your smart-ass comments about dating apps and you have to buy me dinner every night for a month!”
“What? How is that fair that if I win, I already get something I already have, but if you win you get fresh food?”
“Well, if you win, then dinners and desserts are on me for a month! How about that? Come on, I dare you.”
“Tempting,” I say, pretending to think on it. I stand with my ice cream and take it to the kitchen. “Okay, fine. It’s a deal.” We shake hands and Krys gives me a shit-eating grin. There’s something I don’t like about that smile. It’s almost like she knows something I don’t.
I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into, but I know who I am and what I like, and I know for a fact that a datingapp that could lead to a few hookups won’t result in me being the happiest woman on earth.
But we’ll see. One should never say never.
TWO
Hannah
“UGH. Why am I even doing this?”
I roll over in my bed and puff my cheeks. After trying to fall asleep and failing miserably because of the idea of Krys and her bet consuming me, I grab my cellphone and bite the bullet.
I go to my app store and download the Match Me app. When it’s finished downloading, I open it and do a small chuckle as I create an account. It’s so silly, I swear. I bet nothing much will come of this.
I only put my first name and as for my username, I want something that’ll show whomever is interested in me that I am a curvy goddess. If they don’t like that, they can swipe on by.
I decide to go with the username SassyCurvyGirl.
I write up a simple biography for my profile and upload a photo that was taken of me by Krys with my Ragdoll cat, Misha, on Fourth of July. Speaking of Misha, she’s sitting on my nightstand, staring at me right now.
“I know. It’s crazy, right?” I sit up to rest my back against the headboard as Misha jumps on the bed and purrs. “It’s just a waste of time, but I want to win this bet. Krys will see.”
Misha does a small meow and then turns away from me, flapping her tail along the way like whatever I’m talking about is a complete
waste of her time. She’s such a bitchy little cat but somehow, we get along just fine.
I send my profile link in a text to Krys as proof that I’ve created an account and that our bet is on, then I scroll through the app. There are instructions that as you swipe through images of men or women in your area, you can put a purple heart emoji under their picture if you’re interested in them. In return, the person gets the heart and if they like what they see from you and your profile, they’ll return the purple heart which soon converts to the start of a chat on the app.
I refuse to be the desperate broad who goes out handing purple hearts to just anyone, so I swipe thorough many pictures, rolling my eyes at some of the dumb jock guys who can’t even spell correctly in their bios. I swear there are a bunch of juvenile men on here.
My eyelids get heavy eventually and I’m about to call it quits. I scroll down a bit more and then a notification pops up on my screen.
You’ve just received a purple heart from MrRichGuy.
I frown at the notification, click on his profile, and a picture of a handsome man in a suit appears.
He has blond hair and piercing blue eyes, a strong jaw and dimpled chin. I swear whoever created his account has to be using a fake photo. Why on earth would a man of this nature—who can probably just wink at a woman and get in her panties—be on this app?
I read his username again. MrRichGuy. This has to be fake.
I shake my head as I click on his profile and read his About section. Apparently, his name is Richie, hence the username, and he has a busy schedule which most women can’t handle and that makes it hard for him to settle down, and he’s looking for someone who can accept him and his busy life as it is. I roll my eyes and check out more of his stats.
His favorite color is blue.
His favorite artists are Lenny Kravitz and Bob Marley.
He has never been married before.
He’s thirty-two years old. Five years older than me.
He has even more photos of himself posted on his profile and I admit, he is handsome. There’s no way in hell this man is real and, if he is and has to get on a dating app to find love, maybe he some really, really big flaws. And maybe, just for the hell of it, I want to figure out what those flaws are—not to get serious or anything, I’m just a very curious person. I want to know what it is about him that would make him get on Match Me.
“Okay, Richie,” I say, sighing. “I’ll give you a purple heart too. Let’s see what you’re about.” I send off my purple heart and then I shut the screen of my phone off, turn on my side, and fall asleep.
THREE
Hannah
WHEN I WAKE UP, I’m surprised to see a message from MrRichGuy. My heart beats faster at the sight of it and I sit up against the headboard, the morning sun hitting me in the face.
MrRichGuy: Hey, there. Really like your profile picture. :) What’s a girl as beautiful as you doing on an app like this?
I bite a smile as I read the message. Oh, Jesus. I’m being ridiculous. He probably says this to every girl. I respond anyway.
SassyCurvyGirl: I could ask you the very same thing. Handsome guy like yourself can get any girl he wants. What’s up with that?
He responds almost immediately, which surprises me.
MrRichGuy: Not a lot of women can handle me or my workload. I’m a very busy man. I figured why cut my chances to just regular social meetings. There are plenty of other ways to meet. Not only that, but I have a certain…preference.
SassyCurvyGirl: A certain preference? As in what? Women?
MrRichGuy: Precisely.
SassyCurvyGirl: And what might that be?
MrRichGuy: I’d much rather discuss that as I get to know you. Is it okay to get to know you?
I read his message twice and then look out of my window that faces a line of trees. He’s flirting…and I can’t believe I’m liking it. Now I can see why Krys got such a thrill out of the app.
SassyCurvyGirl: Sure. You can get to know me, but you should know, I’m not your average woman. I’m full-figured and not ashamed of my body. Last
thing I want is to talk to someone who would be ashamed of that.
MrRichGuy: LOL…trust me, Hannah. That’s the last thing that would stop me from getting to know you.
I giggle, then type.
SassyCurvyGirl: Okay, then, Richie. Let’s get to know each other.
FOUR
Hannah
IT’S BEEN a week now and talking to Richie almost feels natural at this point. I can’t explain it, and perhaps it’s just that high of getting to know someone who is clearly into me, but there is definitely a connection here.
Richie messages me every morning and tells me good night every night. Our conversations are both fun and distracting. I can’t get much work done at my job at the bridal boutique because I’m sneaking into one of the changing rooms to message him back.
MrRichGuy: You working at a bridal shop is putting ideas in my head…
SassyCurvyGirl: Lol stop it. We’re not that far ahead yet, mister. We haven’t even met yet.
MrRichGuy: I know, but a guy can dream. And speaking of, when will we get to meet?
He sent that message and I didn’t answer right away. I didn’t know what to say to it. Instead I waited ten minutes and then changed the subject.
SassyCurvyGirl: One day! So, what exactly do you do for a living?
MrRichGuy: Don’t want to bore you with it.
I do notice there are moments when he’s unable to respond right away, but I remember him saying he has a demanding job and is very busy. It doesn’t bother me much, but when he does get back to me, he’s always so apologetic and nice about it.
I am curious where he works though. For a moment I think maybe he’s a stripper or that he strips for hire, and maybe that’s why he can’t really keep a woman. Hey, as hot as he is, I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.
Eventually, we ditch the dating app and exchange numbers. This is when it feels a little more real and a lot more intimate.
Richie: So, sassy girl, when do you think we’ll be able to meet? I really want to see you in person. Hope that doesn’t sound too forward.
I read his message and almost choke on my water as I sit on my bed. We’re back to this again. I know I can’t avoid his question forever.
Me: Um…I don’t know. It’s only been a week and a half of us talking and all…
I feel silly. There is no real reason to not meet him. In fact, I’ve wanted to meet him in person since messaging him on the app. He’s funny and sweet and never kills the conversation. The problem is with myself. I feel like he’ll take one look at me and realize I’m not what he’s looking for and this will all be over and I don’t know if I’d be okay with that.
Richie: Hannah, I would love to meet you soon. I have three days off next week and will be home. I’d love to take you out for dinner.
I groan. The thought of going out to dinner with a handsome guy like him makes my heart beat faster. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me, but maybe he will. I don’t want to lose this connection we’ve created so far.
Damn it! Krys was right. It’s so easy to get sucked into talking to a guy from an app. I can see her now, laughing and singing the words “I toldyou so!” as I explain my hesitation about the date to her.
Me: Let me think about it. Give me 24 hours.
Richie: 24 hours it is.
I slide into my shoes and leave my apartment, hopping into my car and driving the fifteen minutes it takes to get to Krys’ bakery downtown.
“Hey!” I barge right in, the bell above the door ringing and the sweet scent of cakes and cookies in the air. Krys looks up from behind the counter with a smile.
“Well, well, well…look who it is.”
“Yeah. It’s me.” I step behind the counter and pick up an apron. I sometimes help her ice cupcakes and sugar cookies. It’s a great stress reliever. “So, I haven’t told you this yet, because I didn’t think it’d be a real thing, but there’s this guy I met on the Match Me app. We’ve been talking for about a week and a half and now he wants to meet inperson.”
“Holy shit! You’ve been talking to someone? What did I tell you? I bet you’re loving it, aren’t you?” She smirks, places the whisk down, and points a finger at my face. I playfully slap her hand away with a laugh.
“I don’t know if I’m ready to meet him yet, Krys. I mean, our conversations are really good. I feel like I am getting to know him, but what if he takes one look at me and scratches me off of whatever list he has me on?”
“If he does, then fuck that guy! There are plenty more fish in the sea. Don’t get hung up on the first guy you meet, Hannah. Let me see him,” she demands, sticking her hand out.
I take my phone out of my pocket and unlock it, then go to the my messages to show her the selfies he sent me throughout the week. When she takes each photo in, her eyes grow bigger and rounder. “Oh, wow. He is fucking hot!”
“Right? What the hell does he want mefor? It’s obviously just for sex, right? I mean, maybe he has this fetish for plus size girls, uses
them, and then moves onto the next.”
“What? Hannah, no! It’s not like you have to jump right into the sack with the guy. Just meet him somewhere public, get to know him in person. Trust me, you’ll know if all he wants is the kitty cat or if he wants more,” she says, picking up her whisk again.
I break out in a laugh as she hands my phone back to me. “Do you think I should do this?”
“I think you should.” She shrugs. “Just give it a try. What’s the harm in a free meal—wait, he is paying right? Because there are some broke jackasses out there who won’t pay and will make you dine and ditch. Trust me, I know.”
“Yeah, I think he’s paying. And you’re just saying all of this because of our bet. You know if this fails, you’ll owe me so many dinners and desserts, right?”
“Oh, trust me. I know,” she chimes, smiling way too hard for her own good. I lift my phone up and look at the photo of Richie on the screen.
He’s so good-looking. So nice. All of our conversations are so fulfilling and not empty at all. I do wonder what it would be like to talk to him in person—if he’ll flirt with me the same way he does via messages and if he can sweet-talk the same. I can’t keep wondering forever though… Screwit.
Me: No need for 24 hours. I’ll be happy to meet you for dinner.
I smile at the screen of my phone, despite the nervous flutters deep in my belly. I hope meeting him is worth it.
FIVE
Hannah
I CAN’T REMEMBER the last time I was this nervous.
I step out of my car, smoothing out my red pencil skirt and then adjusting the silk of my blouse. I’m wearing a pair of heels I borrowed from Krys and I know by the end of the night my feet will be killing me, but for tonight they are necessary.
I’m standing in front of the restaurant Richie told me to meet him at and I have to say, I am stunned. It’s called Bellevue’s and it’s one of the most expensive restaurants in the city. I figure this must be a mistake, but as I check in with the hostess to let her know I am with a “Mr. Chamberlain” (as Richie instructed me to say when I arrived), the hostess smiles with glee.
“Oh, you must be Hannah! Mr. Chamberlain is right this way,” the hostess sings, spinning around and leading the way through the restaurant.
She smiles over her shoulder, leading me past table tops swathed in white table cloths. Men and women are seated in expensive clothing and jewelry, and across the restaurant, facing the wideopen window and giving a stunning ocean view is a slightly overcrowded bar.
Before I know it, the hostess has stopped in front of a sliding glass door. She pushes it open and walks right in, and this part of
the restaurant is completely different from the one I just walked through.
It’s much quieter and more romantic. The lights are dim, the tables in the center are bigger, and there are booths with seats made of black leather. On top of the tables are candles in glass cases. A private bar is against the wall across the room. There are less people in this section, which leads me to believe this is an exclusive part of the restaurant.
The hostess continues walking until she meets up to a man who is standing in a suit, his back to us and, his cellphone pressed to his ear. He’s talking lowly in a smooth, deep voice.
“Mr. Chamberlain? Miss Norris has arrived,” the hostess murmurs.
In an instant, the man turns around and as he does, I gasp, because holy shit, it’s him. Just like the images, he has beautiful blue eyes and his blond hair is just as I remember from the photos. It’s a little longer at the crown now, but it suits him. So I wasn’t being catfished. That’s good to know.
“Richie?” I say, still flabbergasted.
Richie smiles, flashing pearly white teeth at me before looking at the hostess. “Thank you for bringing her to me, Adele.”
Adele nods and walks off, and as she goes, Richie’s eyes are on me again.
“Wow,” he breathes, his eyes roaming my body. I fidget because I did not expect this. I thought surely the angles of his pictures made him look better than what he may have looked like in real life we all have our angles—but no. I realize it wasn’t filters or editing. This man is a god. Tall, well dressed, and handsome as hell. A strong, chiseled jaw and that same perfect dimple in his chin. “Hannah, you are stunning.”
“I I uh…I didn’t…” My words become lodged in my throat. Look at him. He’s perfect. I stand no chance with this man.
He gestures to the booth beside us. “Would you like to sit?”
“Um, sure. Yeah.” I slide into the booth as Richie takes the opposite side. Our booth is window-side and reveals the ocean, along with a beautiful sunset.
There is a moment of awkward silence between us as I settle into my seat, fixing my blouse and then my hair. I’m so glad I dressed up like he told me to—formal, that is. I was two seconds away from choosing a sundress and sandals for tonight to feel more comfortable.
Our eyes finally connect and Richie smiles. I smile too, and then I giggle, and he chuckles. “Sorry, I’m just…I mean, this is not what I expected at all,” I confess, pressing a hand to my chest.
“No?” He smirks. “What did you expect then?”
“Well, for starters, I wasn’t expecting to meet here. This place is a fortune, you know.”
He shrugs, continuing a smirk. “I can afford it.”
“And I guess I didn’t expect you to look as hot as your pictures.” I realize I sound like an idiot, so I look away and clear my throat.
Richie chuckles, and it’s a warm, comforting sound. It occurs to me that this is the first time I’m hearing his voice, his laugh, and it’s even better than I imagined. Now I see why he wanted to wait before talking on the phone. I find his blue gaze again.
“May I confess something?” he asks.
“Sure.”
“I didn’t think you would show.” His pink lips pout, only slightly. I can tell it’s a habit and it’s adorable as hell. “I thought you’d stand me up.”
“Are you kidding? Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just thought you’d consider it a waste of time or realize you weren’t ready to meet yet.” He picks up the water in front of him and sips it.
“Trust me, I wanted to meet you tonight.”
“Good.” He smiles. “Can I get you something to drink? You can get anything you want from the menu.” He lifts a hand in the air, flagging the waiter down.
I pick up the drink menu and read over the list of wines. Geez! Everything is so expensive. I glance up at him as he searches for the waiter. I study how fitted his suit is and how nicely styled his hair is. There is an expensive silver watch on his wrist and, fortunately, no wedding band on his ring finger. Not even a tan mark.
What in the hell does this guy do for a living to be able to afford eating at a place like this? To dress like this? Looklike this?
The waiter finally arrives and Richie orders a whiskey neat while I order a glass of their best red wine.
“You should probably know that I didn’t exactly expect you to try and live up to your Match Me username,” I say when my drink is in hand.
“Why do you think I’m trying to live up to it?” he asks with a laugh.
“Well, come on. MrRichGuy? Rich guy? This place? Your nice suit. This is all so great, but it’s a lot, Richie.”
He shrugs and takes a sip of wine. “Perhaps I just want to impress a gorgeous girl on our first date.”
I sip my wine too, avoiding a blush, but it’s impossible. He has a way with words, just like when we text, and I have to say, I’m looking forward to hearing what more he has to say tonight.
SIX
Ford
“SO, I SHOULD PROBABLY CONFESS SOMETHING, ” I say.
We’re standing on the balcony of the restaurant now, drinks in hand as we overlook the ocean. Soft gusts of wind blow by, creating a nice, cool breeze. We’ve been about confessions all night and it’s nice, almost like sharing sweet little secrets. I like hearing how she really feels and, frankly, I feel comfortable enough with her now to tell her some of my truths.
“Okay.” Hannah turns to me and smiles. She’s a gorgeous woman inside and out. Her lips are full and supple and I want to make them mine—kiss her like I’ve wanted for the last week, but not right now. It has to be at the right moment.
“My name isn’t really Richie.” I fight a smile as her green eyes grow rounder.
“It’s not?” she gasps.
“No. That’s just an alias I use for the app. I, uh…I wanted to meet you and get to know you first before telling you my real name.”
“So, what is your real name?” She’s smiling and I’m glad she isn’t put off by this.
“It’s Ford. Ford Chamberlain.”
“Ford Chamberlain,” she repeats, and I study her reaction, waiting to see if she’ll recognize the name, but her face remains the
same. “Wow. I think I like that much more than Richie. Why don’t you just use your real name?” I realize she has no idea who I am, and that’s a great thing because most of the west coast knows who the Chamberlains are.
“Well, truth be told, when people realize who I am and where I come from, they start acting differently.”
“Differently how?” she asks, cocking her head. Her eyes are sincere and I know automatically she is nothing like the women from my past. It’s refreshing meeting someone who has no idea who I am.
“They just change, you know?” I shrug. “Take advantage of things.”
“Well, if I were to look you up right now, what would I find?” she muses.
“I don’t think you’d be disappointed,” I murmur. “No?”
I laugh. “No.”
“Are you a stripper?” she asks with a laugh and I can’t help the laugh that breaks out of me.
“Of course not.”
She giggles. “Okay, well how about this? I won’t look up who you are. I’ll let you tell me when you’re comfortable. I’d hate for anything to ruin what we’ve got going on…unless you’re, like, some kind of dating serial killer or something,” she counters.
“Not at all,” I chuckle.
“Well, then you’re okay in my book.” She steps closer, smiling that adorable smile I can’t get enough off. “We’ll keep getting to know each other and whatever you have to tell me, you’ll tell me in due time. Deal?”
“Okay. Deal.” I place my glass down on the table and then step closer to her. “So, before this night ends, there is one thing I would like. Something I’ve wanted since seeing you on Match Me.”
“Yeah? And what’s that?” She sinks her teeth into her plump, pink bottom lip. Fuck, her lips are everything. I can’t even imagine what they’d look like wrapped around my cock. Allinduetime.
“A kiss,” I tell her.
“A kiss…” She shudders a breath as I lift a hand to brush a loose tendril of her blonde hair back. The wind rushes by, sweeping it forward again. This time I push it back, but I don’t pull my hand away.
Lifting my hand up, I cup one side of her face and she lowers her gaze, her chest lifting and rising as she breathes in and out.
“Look at me, Hannah,” I murmur.
Her green eyes slide up to mine.
“Is it okay if I kiss you tonight? Or should I wait for our next date?”
Her throat bobs, and without hesitation she nods. “Tonight,” she says. “Tonight would be much better.”
That is all I need to hear. I carry my hand around to the nape of her neck, cupping it and bringing my lips to hers. This will be our first kiss—a kiss I’ve been waiting on for what feels like ages—and damn, I’m ready for it.
SEVEN
Hannah
I CAN’T BELIEVE this is about to happen. His hand is on the base of my neck, his fingers warm and soft. He’s so close and his cologne is taking over every single one of my senses, along with the whiskey on his breath.
My body is in overdrive now. I can’t stand the wait. Our lips connect and I immediately moan because it’s been way too long since I’ve been kissed by a man. I haven’t had a man look at me or touch me the way Ford has tonight in a very long time, so yes, I am going to take advantage of this.
I clumsily place my glass down on the balcony banister and throw my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss and devouring the taste of whiskey on his lips. He drops his hands and slides them down my sides until they’re cupped around my ass.
God,itfeelssogood.
A guttural groan builds in the base of his throat but we don’t stop. He turns me by the hips so my back is pressed to the cement wall and lifts his hands to cup my face in them, but he doesn’t stop kissing me. His groin presses on me, and I feel something hard dig into my lower belly.
He’s getting hard. Wow. This gorgeous man is hard for me.
Our lips part a moment, and he groans. “Fuck, Hannah. I’ve been dreaming about this moment.” He doesn’t keep away for long. His lips are claiming mine again in an instant and I moan as he peels me off the wall enough to cup and grope my ass in his hands.
We part lips to catch our breaths, and I realize just how reckless we are being when I look over his shoulder and spot a few guests seated inside. Granted, they can’t really see us from where we’re standing in the corner, but we are in public and anyone could come through the doors to enjoy the view like we are.
As if he realizes this too, he reluctantly pulls himself away and fixes his white button-up shirt. Flustered, I fix my skirt by tugging it down and then adjusting my blouse.
“I um…” I wipe my bottom lip. What in the hell just happened? The heat of the moment has gotten to me and now all I want is to drag this man back to my apartment and ride the hell out of him.
“Loss of words?” he teases, picking up his suit jacket from the back of a chair.
“Uh, yeah,” I laugh. “Definitely.”
“Let’s go back to our booth for one more drink.”
“Sure.” I smile as he takes my hand and leads the way back inside, and as we order more drinks, all I can think is that this is a dream. There’s no way this man is that into me. Doesn’t he have other women to chase? Am I just one of the bunch?
And his lips. Those amazing, perfect pink lips. I stare at them as he sips his whiskey and I want so badly to drink that liquor from his lips. Who knew one little kiss could bring this much fire out of me?
Before I know it, it’s time for us to part ways and I don’t want to go.
“Aw, Ford. I’ve had so much fun with you tonight,” I say as he walks me to my car.
“I’ve had a great night with you too.”
I glance at him as we walk, considering the idea of inviting him to my place. But this is our first night. I want to take this slow. If I
give him too much at once, he might not stick around for long.
I stop at my car and he slides his fingers into his front pockets. “So, what do you say to meeting me next weekend? I’m thinking a nice dinner at my place and some wine. Would you be into that?”
“Of course, I would. That sounds really nice.”
“Okay, good because I’d really love to see you again.” His hand presses to my waist and he reels me closer. His mouth is a hairsbreadth away, his blue eyes smoldering as he looks into mine. “You are a treat, Hannah. I already can’t wait to see you again and you haven’t even left yet.”
I laugh, completely flattered. “I could say the same.” And I really could. I’m eager to see what his place is like, to hang out there and see how far we take things the next time. The kiss tonight on the balcony was only a preview, but both of us are heated and want so much more.
Ford lowers his head an inch and our lips mesh. I sigh as he slides his hand around to the small of my back and glues his body to mine. His other hand comes up to my chin and his thumb caresses my jawline.
When our lips part, I keep my eyes closed, hoping he’ll come in for more, but he doesn’t. He pulls his hand from the small of my back and my eyes finally flutter open.
“There will be more of that next weekend,” he murmurs on my lips and I ache. “Have a good night, Hannah.”
The hand on my chin disappears too and his absence damn near drives me crazy. How is it that the absence of his touch already makes me feel weak? I’ve just met him in person and yet all I want is for him to hold me, kiss me, and touch me until I can’t get enough.
He steps away and I unlock my car, pulling the door open and climbing in. “Have a good night, Mr. Chamberlain,” I murmur.
He gives me a small wave, watching as I close the door and start my car up. I drive away, but not without waving at him again and then looking through my rearview mirror as he stands in the parking lot, watching me go.
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