Sara: Well, I need to run by and get my car from Ramzi’s. I met her at her place last night and then rode with her to Grady’s.
Me: Sure. How about I take you to get your car after our date?
Sara: Sounds like a plan.
Me: I’ll be there to pick you up at 6. :-)
Sara: Thanks. See you then.
I screw around in the apartment for another twenty minutes before I head toward Sara’s place. I hadn’t noticed much about the place when I dropped her off last night because it was dark and, well, I was paying more attention to her mouth. It’s a one-story house, but that’s about as much as I can remember.
Driving down the street, I notice the houses, although small, are really nice. The entire neighborhood seems to be middle to upper class. When I pull up in front of her place, I feel the smile that works its way onto my face. The house fits her personality. It’s a medium gray color with white trim around all the windows, the front porch, and the door, and there are burgundy-colored flower boxes under each window. The odd part is, there are no flowers in the boxes. Everything in them is green like she just put plants in them, but as I get closer, I recognize a few of them. They’re herbs. Cilantro, dill, chives, basil, thyme. I know these few because my mom always had them growing in our kitchen window for as long as I can remember. Sara must enjoy cooking.
I make my way to her covered porch, and just as I raise my hand to knock, the screen door flies open and the biggest dog I’ve ever seen barrels through it, knocking me on my ass when its paws hit my shoulders.
“Diesel, NO!” I hear hollered from inside the house. “Heel!”
I’m lying flat on my back with this giant of a dog sitting on my chest and stomach, licking my face as if I’m his next big meal. Awesome.
When I hear laughter coming from the doorway, I lift my head long enough to see Sara standing against the doorframe, her face bright red because she’s laughing so hard.
“Um, Sara, do you think maybe you could get this big-ass dog off my chest please?” I choke out. I’m literally becoming short of air.
“Diesel! Down,” she barks out in a very sexy, demanding voice.
The dog jerks his head around to look at her and then, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world, saunters back over to her, sitting down when he reaches her legs.
“You should be happy he likes you. He doesn’t normally greet new people like that,” she says with sass, holding the screen open for me.
I pull myself up off the ground, wiping my face with my shirt and heading toward the door. “Well, if that’s how he greets people he likes, I can only imagine being on the receiving end of that when he’s pissed.”
She shakes her head and laughs.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” she whispers as I stroll through the door, following behind her. After she closes the door behind us, she continues. “Diesel is a big baby. He might be big and intimidating looking, but he is just a big ole teddy bear, aren’t ya, boy?” I watch as she squats down in front of him, running her hands over the sides of his face and his shoulders. She loves that big, crazy animal. I can see it written all over her face.
“Well, I feel sorry for anyone who ever tries to break into your house. Pretty sure that dog could cause someone to have a heart attack,” I say and smile when she looks my way, and Diesel licks up the entire side of her face.
“That was actually part of the reason I adopted him. I’ve always been a dog lover, but when I moved into the city by myself, I needed to feel safe. So, I did a bunch of research on guard dogs, but none of them really seemed to fit me.” She continues to talk as she stands and we move further into the house. “Then one day, while I was out on a run, I saw a guy walking an English Mastiff. I stopped and talked to him about his dog and I was hooked. Even though they’re known for their gentle, loving disposition, they are huge and most people are terrified of them if they see one coming. Diesel is also on the bigger side. He’s about 160 lbs.”
“Oh, I’m very familiar with how much Diesel weighs,” I respond, rubbing my hand over my chest and chuckling.
She smiles and then turns toward the back of the house. “Make yourself at home. I’m almost done getting ready, and then we can get out of here.” She doesn’t wait for me to respond; she just disappears down a hallway.
I roam around her living room, looking at the pictures that line the walls and bookshelves. She has a beautiful family and she looks a lot like a younger version of her mom. As I’m being nosy and checking out the vast collection of books on the shelves, I hear nails clicking on the hardwood floor and look up to see Diesel has perched himself in the middle of the floor where the hallway starts. He’s watching me. I pick a random book off the shelf in front of me, still looking at Diesel. When my eyes swing to the cover of the book, I almost choke on my own spit. The cover is a man and woman in an embrace, both of them with no clothes from the waist up. His hands are buried in the back of her hair, and her head is thrown back with what looks like a gasp escaping her lips. It’s a very sexual cover, and I flip the book over to read the description on the back just as Sara comes into the room. When she sees the book in my hand, she stops and stares at the book for a second before bringing her eyes up to mine. I don’t know what I expect to see in her expression, but it isn’t the one crossing her face. With a smirk, she shrugs and struts over to me, taking the book from my hand and replacing it on the bookshelf.
“No touching,” she begins with a little bit of sass to her tone. “Those on that shelf are all signed and personalized by the authors.”
“So you enjoy reading smut? Nothing wrong with that,” I babble.
“Well, Mr. Harper, not that I asked your opinion on the subject, but yes, I do. I read a lot, and my newest favorite genre is anything written about love stories that include dark characters and lots of hot sex,” she tells me without an ounce of embarrassment. Interesting. A woman who owns her sexuality without being fake about it.
Just the thought of her lying in bed at night reading these dirty books makes me clear my throat and shake my head.
Down, boy.
“So, are you ready or are we going to stand here all night and discuss my love for sexy novels?” she sasses.
I chuckle and grab her hand, heading toward the door without another word. Within just a few steps, I hear the telltale sound of Diesel’s nails on the hardwood floor, and Sara pulls her hand from mine and bends down to him.
“You can’t go, boy,” she coos at him. “I’ll be back in a bit.” She kisses his head, and he saunters back into the hallway and plops down with a huge grunt.
“You spoil that dog. You know that, right?” I laugh out.
“He’s my baby. What can I say?” she tells me with a huge smile that lights up her face.
She grabs my hand this time as we head out to my truck. Once again, I help her hoist herself up into the truck. I’m sure she can manage it herself, but I just have this overwhelming urge to have my hands on her at all times.
The drive is quiet, although she does change the radio station the moment I start it. When I lift my eyebrow at her in question, she just shrugs and leans her head back against the seat, a small smile on her lips. It takes me a second to tear my eyes off her. She’s so damn beautiful, but her taste in music sucks.
Dinner is great. We talk about my mom leaving for Italy, her work, and my current school bullshit. I’m not even remotely shy about telling her I’m ready for the next semester break now. This semester has kicked my ass and the makeup I’m having to do from being gone for several days to help my mom took more time than I had thought.
We talk about everything under the sun—from our favorite sports, to favorite foods, to childhood memories. I have to say that I enjoy talking to her more than any other woman I’ve met before. She’s honest and real and so fun to be around.
Before I know it, we’ve been sitting here for two hours. The service here is fast, so we’ve been done eating for ages but just continue to have the waitress refill our drinks, and she keeps us stocked with breadsticks and dipping oil the whole time we’re here. I’m going to need to run ten miles tomorrow to burn off all the damn bread I’ve eaten today.
As I pay the bill and thank the waitress, I can feel Sara’s eyes on me. I turn my gaze toward her. Her face is relaxed and she’s smiling.
“What?” I ask her with a smirk. “Like what you see?”
“You know I do,” she retorts, no hesitation.
“Well, let’s get out of here,” I flirt back. She laughs in response and rolls her eyes.
When we make it out to the truck, I open her door for her, and this time, let her get in on her own. Her flirting has me kind of at a loss. I mean, I know she’s attracted to me. She makes it obvious, but she said she’s not a one-night stand kind of girl. We’ve been on two dates. Maybe I’m reading too much into her flirting.
I make my way around to the driver side, and the moment I get in and shut the door, I feel her tiny hand on my leg. She’s in the middle of my bench seat, not the passenger side. I look down at her hand then swing my eyes her way, but she’s looking out the windshield. I put my hand on top of the one she has on my thigh, and she swings her eyes to mine. We sit staring at each other for only a second before both of my hands are in her hair and I’m kissing the shit out of her. It all happened so fast, I don’t even know who started it.
I feel her body moving from the seat beside me but don’t break the kiss. When she settles herself on my lap, knees by my hips, I release her hair and grab her hips, pressing her down into me. She moans loudly and starts rocking against me, and I swear I almost scream like a girl at the contact. I can feel the heat radiating off her and its making me hard as a rock, and I could probably cut granite right now. I rock into her and she squeals into my mouth before pulling hers away and pressing her forehead against mine. I stop my movements, fearing I’m pushing this too far.
“I want you so bad, Eli,” she practically growls. I rock my hips forward again and she gasps, pushing herself down and grinding on me. She throws her head back and moans so loud I’m afraid someone outside the truck will hear her.
“Jesus, Sara,” I whisper. “If you keep making those noises, I’m going to take you right here in my truck. I don’t want our first time to be in my truck, baby.”
“Please, Eli, just shhhh…,” she says and continues to grind on me. She buries her face in my neck, kissing and sucking it while pressing her hot body against mine. Her hands are under my shirt, rubbing up and down my sides and abs. Her breathing quickens as her moans get closer together. She lifts her head from my neck and arches her back just as her body starts to tremble and she screams out my name. I watch mesmerized by this amazing woman who just brazenly used my body to bring herself to orgasm, fully clothed, in my truck, in the parking lot of a restaurant.
I rub my hands up and down her back after she collapses onto me, still shaking. Her breathing is ragged. When I feel her body tense up, I know she’s just realizing what she did.
She starts to climb off me, avoiding looking me in the eye, but I grab her hips and make her stay. In the process, a hissing noise escapes me when her hot core once again rubs against me. “I’m so sorry, Eli,” she whispers before trying to pull off me again.
“Sara, don’t,” I tell her firmly, still holding her in my lap. “Don’t apologize. I swear to all that is holy that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” She shakes her head and her face is bright red.
I push both hands into her hair and pull her face to mine, kissing her deeply. The moment our lips meet, she melts into me and wraps her arms around my neck, running her tongue along my bottom lip before sucking it into her mouth. I groan loudly as she bites down gently on my lip and then places a gentle kiss on it. My hands have found their way back down to her hips, and I’m not even remotely shy about pushing my hardness against her again. She gasps loudly.
It doesn’t take me long to feel the build-up happening, and I push her hips back off me a little bit to avoid a mess. My breathing is fast, and my heart is going a million miles a minute. I break our kiss gently and pull her to me in a hug.
“Let me return the favor, Eli,” she whispers into my ear before trying to trail kisses down my neck. I pick her hips up off my lap and place her on the seat next to me. The moment I set her down, her hands go to work on the zipper of my pants, but I grab her hands and bring them to my mouth, placing a kiss on the top of one of her hands. She looks up with a confused look on her face.
“Sara, I don’t want you to return the favor,” I reply hoarsely. She looks at me in shock for a second, and then I watch as embarrassment crosses her face. She pulls her hands back and scoots over to the passenger seat, fiddling with her clothing, which is all askew from my wandering hands.
“Can you take me home please?” she asks, her face turned toward the passenger side window.
I don’t know what to say, because I’m truly speechless. I mean, do I want her? Abso-fucking-lutely, and if she were any other woman, I’d probably be banging her right now in my truck where the whole world could see and not give a shit. But for some reason, I want this moment to be in the confines of a bedroom. I’ve had sex in my truck before. No big deal. But Sara deserves more than that. She deserves all the things I’ve never done for anyone else. She deserves the romance, the flowers, and sex in bedrooms. Not sex in some dirty parking lot in the city.
I put the truck in drive and head toward her house. The ride is completely silent; not even the radio is playing. The moment I put the truck in park in front of her home, she’s out of the truck and walking to the door. I jump out and stride after her quickly. She unlocks the door, opens it, and steps inside, turning toward me just as I make it up the steps.
“Thanks for dinner, Eli,” she says quietly and starts to close the door.
Oh hell no.
I put my hand on the door to stop it and watch as her face pops up in surprise. “Don’t. I don’t need an explanation,” she barks.
I push the door open and step into the house, shutting the door behind me. She starts to speak, but I grab her hand and pull her to me so quickly she lets out only a small screech before I bend over far enough so my lips crash into hers. She reaches up and runs her hands through my hair and then behind my neck, pulling me further down to her. Placing my hands under her arms, I lift her up, and she instantly wraps her legs around me.