Temporary Bliss (10 page)

“Sorry. Mac, are you ready to order?”

“You choose, Superman. I’ll judge you by your selection,” I add with a wink.

“Ooh, challenge accepted, gorgeous. Okay, I’ll have the chicken parmigiana, and my date will have, the Alfredo. Can we also have some bread with dips, and an antipasto platter for a shared starter?” Daniel asks expertly. He must really like Italian food!

“Certainly, sir. Would you like to order drinks?” he inquires.

“Yes, I’ll have Chianti, please,” I say with a friendly smile.

“Make that a bottle for us to share,” Daniel pipes up.

“Great. I’ll be right back with your wine.” The waiter turns on his heels and retreats.

“This restaurant is great. Do you come here often?” I ask.

“I try to pop in once every few months. The food’s authentic and I love the ambiance.”

“That’s cool. I love it when you come across a good little restaurant like this one. They seem to feel more relaxed and comfortable if that makes sense.” I’m sure I’m rambling like a nervous teenager. I don’t know why, but I’m really nervous tonight. It might have something to do with the fact that I’ve never made it past the first date with a new guy before I tell him about my no commitment vow, or I’ve found something irritatingly wrong with him and have to blow him off.

I can’t find anything at fault with Daniel.

He’s hot. Check!

He’s kind and courteous. Check!

He’s totally fucking hot. Triple check!

And he’s a gentleman. Home run!

Why can’t I find anything wrong with him? Surely he can’t really be this perfect.

“Okay, so tell me about your family. Any brothers or sisters?” I ask.

“Yes, actually. I have one brother and two sisters. All are still here in Chicago too,” he answers just as the waiter returns with our bottle of wine. He shows Daniel the label before corking it and pouring us a glass each. After placing the bottle on the table, he leaves us alone again.

I pick up my glass and hold it out to Daniel, who reciprocates as we clink our glasses together. “To third dates with superheroes,” I say with a cheeky grin.

Daniel raises a brow like he’s accepting my challenge. “To third dates with sexy women who don’t realize how truly breathtakingly beautiful they are, inside and out.”

Holy God! This man is on fire tonight! With one toast, he’s managed to make me swoon and clench my legs together at the same time.

Superman 2. Mac 0.

Dammit!

After a thoroughly enjoyable dinner, and a few glasses of the fantastic Chianti, I’m relaxed and happy.

The date has been filled with awesome conversation where we’ve talked about our jobs, our families, even how we both like to go running in the summer. We decide to order a Tiramisu to share to finish off our meal.

The waiter brings the dessert to our table with two spoons. As soon as he’s gone, Daniel looks over at me with that cheeky grin of his that I swear he’s been wearing all night. The one that screams that he’s imagining me naked while the gleam in his eye reminds me that he’s still got a few cards left up his sleeve.

“Can I feed you?” he asks with a dangerously low voice. Again, I’m forced to squeeze my legs together to try and dull the growing ache.

Although I’m taken aback by the intimacy of such a request, I’m trying not to show that he’s making me nervous. “I’d love you to.”

He dips his spoon into the creamy dessert and moves forward in his seat to reach over the table until the spoon lashes my lips with exquisite vanilla cream. I take the whole spoon in my mouth, my eyes never leaving his until he sees my tongue dart out and catch a small amount that has stuck to my lip. His gaze drops to my lips, and I can see his eyes dilate as he watches me clean it off me.

“Damn, I want to taste your mouth right now,” he mutters under his breath.

“What’s stopping you?” I retort with a smirk.

I hear him growl. “You’re such a little tease, you know that?”

“I may have been told that from time to time.” I dip my finger into the whipped cream and hold it out to him. He softly takes my finger into his mouth. My eyes widen, and my breathing picks up as he swirls his tongue around my finger inside his mouth, lightly sucking it before releasing it with a loud pop.

I groan in delight. “Damn, boy. You’re giving me way too much to think about.”

He stands up and leans over the table until his lips are only an inch away from mine. “Then don’t think. Just go with it,” he murmurs against my lips as he traces his tongue along my bottom lip. My mouth opens, and as soon as my aching tongue touches his, the kiss becomes ravenous. I wrap my hands around his neck and we battle for supremacy while tasting tiramisu on each other’s lips. Then, as quick as it starts it ends as he pulls back, resting his forehead on mine while we catch our breaths.

“If I start now, Mac, I won’t be able to stop until you’re underneath me on this table. So I’m thinking…” he says huskily, stroking his hand softly down my cheek, “that we need a change of scenery.”

He stands back up and walks around the table, holding his hand out to me. Placing my hand in his, we briefly stop at the hostess booth to take care of the bill, then walk out the door and into the warm spring night. I check my watch and see that it’s only nine o’clock.

Daniel stops and turns to face me in the middle of the sidewalk outside the restaurant. “Where to now, m’lady?” he asks with a fake, and really bad, British accent.

I look up at him and smirk, trying to hold back my laughter. “Well, you did promise to take me to Navy Pier, mister,” I say, playfully poking his chest with my free hand. “And a promise is a promise.” Still holding my hand, he wraps it behind my back while he adds pressure, pinning my body to his. “And I intend to keep that promise, just as soon as I do this.” He bends his head down and kisses me softly again.

This man can kiss. I could honestly just stand here and kiss him all night long. I close my eyes and let myself get carried away with this kiss. It’s different to the one he gave me in the restaurant. This kiss is full of promise, full of desire, and if his large, hard cock that is now lying against my stomach is any indication, a sign of things to come.

Realizing that we’re blocking the sidewalk on a busy intersection making out like teenagers, I force myself to break free, but I can’t help the goofy grin that covers my face.

“Wow,” I say, winded.

“Wow is right. I could stand here and do THAT all day,” he says, his face beaming.

“Navy Pier, Pier Park. Go now before we lose our train of thought, and I drag you back to my place, or yours, whichever is closest,” I say, trying to talk inner Mac out of her demands to drag him in the opposite direction. Inner Mac is feisty and always horny, thinking with her vagina first, and her brain a close second.

“Yes, let’s go,” he says, adjusting his pants ever so discretely so that his ‘happiness’ is not so visible to every Tom, Dick, and Harry walking past.

I can’t help but giggle at his predicament. I have to admit, when it comes to getting excited in public, women are a lot luckier than men.

“You think it’s funny that I have to walk three blocks with this hard on, and you look as unaffected as always.”

I turn into him, lifting myself up slightly to whisper in his ear, “I’m so far from being unaffected. I wish you knew how wet and ready I am right now.”

Daniel suddenly starts coughing, “Damn, Mac. So not helping things right now,” he says, his voice cracking.

I shrug my shoulders and smile. “At least I know that you are thinking about the same things as I am now.”

We reach the park about fifteen minutes later, our progress hindered by my sky high boots that my feet are now complaining to me about...a lot! Pier Park closed early for the night, scuttling our plans to take a few rides on the Ferris wheel. “Are your feet sore? Do you want to just take a slow walk around the pier?”

“Sounds good, but I’m gonna take these torture devices off my feet,” I say as I find a park bench and sit down, bending over to pull them off.

“Let me.”

He gets down on one knee and holds my ankle, unzipping the boots and sliding the first one off. He then starts rubbing his hands into my feet, kneading them firmly. I can’t stifle the moan that escapes me as I lean back against the bench and enjoy the blissful foot rub I’m currently being given.

“That feels so good,” I groan as he continues his massage. He then turns his attention to my other foot, his touch on my skin so light, yet his heat burns through me in a direct line to my now aching core. This is the most drawn out foreplay I’ve ever experienced, and I almost don’t want it to end.

Once he’s finished, he stands back on his feet, my super pretty boots in one hand while he pulls me up with the other. “Better?” he asks, kissing my temple.

“Much. You better watch out, though. I might have to keep you stashed in the corner of my bedroom as my personal foot massage slave,” I say with a laugh.

His eyes grow dark, full of hunger and desire. “You wouldn’t have to force me to stay in your bedroom, Mac.”

“The idea of it makes me hot,” I reply with a wink.

We start walking, his arm wrapped around my waist as he pulls me close to his side. It feels nice; maybe too nice. Why does this freak me the fuck out? He’s just a man. A hot as hell, southern gentleman whom I happen to be dating.

No!

I’m not dating. I’m casually meeting once or twice a week and kissing frequently. Nope, not serious.

No commitment.

No expectations.

No chance of him dictating my life.

“Just relax, Mac. We’re just walking.”

Shit! What is he now, a mind reader?

His words are my salve, and I instantly melt back into him. There is something about his voice that soothes me, calms me down. It’s like he can sense my skittishness and he’s treading softly. How can this man know me so well after three dates? Well, four if you count his impromptu deli lunch on Monday.

“It’s been four dates,” I spit out, not realizing what I just said until it was too late. Damn my broken brain to mouth filter. He stops walking and turns towards me, the grin on his face unmistakable.

“And?”

“And that means we can do whatever we want to do to each other,” I reply, my smile getting wider to match the huge grin on his face.

He tilts his head to the side in that cute way he does. “So why are we still on the pier then?”

“You tell me. and we’ll both know.”

“Your place or mine?”

“Mine’s closer.”

“Let’s go,” he says gruffly, unable to hide the affect that this tangent in the night is having on him as he spins and starts walking rather quickly towards the cab rank.

As soon as I lead Daniel by the hand through my bedroom door, I find myself pinned against the wall, his hard body pressed firmly against mine as he ravages my mouth with a hunger most women only fantasize about. I return his kiss with fervor, releasing a few week’s worth of pent up sexual frustration into our kiss. His hands cradle my head as his tongue expertly explores my mouth. I shift my hands down his arms wanting to touch him, brand him like he has branded me so many times before with his words, his voice, his never ending kisses. I can’t get enough of him as we start ripping each other’s clothes off. Two and half weeks, nineteen long days without nakedness, without an orgasm that wasn’t self-induced. It may be our first time together, but there is no time for seduction or niceties.

It’s hot and unadulterated, and we’re both desperate for it to start.

He falls down onto his knees after pulling my top over my head and throwing it in the general direction of my bathroom. My breathing has been reduced to small pants, whimpering as he hooks his fingers into the waist band of my jeans, deftly undoing the button, then tugging the zipper and pulling them down along with my lacy thong. His head dips towards me, immediately moving in to nuzzle the inside of my thighs as I part my legs, desperate to feel him.

Without a moment’s hesitation, his tongue is on me, flicking over my hardened clit like it’s a switch he’s trying to flick on and off. Waves of pleasure start rolling through me. Yes, it has been way too long in between visits to O-town. The things this man can do with his tongue should be studied and documented. For God’s sake, he should give lessons!

After licking and sucking me to the cusp of an orgasm, and feeling my legs tense up around him, he moves one hand to the outside of my thigh to keep me in place and snakes his other hand between my legs, a lone finger inching inside me, stroking me in time with his tongue.

“More,” I managed to spit out as he adds another finger inside of me, thrusting them in an unstoppable rhythm as my hips start to move against him. “Ahh, Daniel!” I cry out as he sucks my clit hard, flicking his tongue against it, throwing me head first into a mind bending climax that makes my legs buckle and my eyes water with amazement.

“Damn, I could never forget how you taste, Mac. You’re like the finest champagne, and all I wanna do is get drunk on you.”

“Mmm Hmm,” I murmur, trying to gather my senses and return my breathing to something resembling normal. His words are not helping me keep a clear head around him that’s for sure.