We stand like this for several minutes, silently, me inhaling his delicious woodsy scent. I really need to find out the name of his cologne so I can find the creator and nominate him for some sort of nobel prize.
He lowers his head and sweeps my hair to the side and I feel his lips on the back of my neck and shiver. "God, Evie," he whispers. "You feel so good. You smell so good. You undo me. And I haven't even had you yet. What will that do to me?"
I stiffen slightly. "Jake - " I start, turning and bringing my arms up around his neck. I tilt my head back until I'm looking into his deep brown eyes. "About that - " I whisper.
His eyes scan my face and he finally says, "You're nervous." It's not a question.
"Yes. No. I mean - " I shake my head and let out a shaky laugh.
"How about I make you dinner, we talk, hang out, and then if you want to sleep in the guest room, I'm okay with that tonight, alright? I'd like you in my bed. But I want it to be your call and if you're not ready, then you sleep in the guest room. I just want you here tonight, okay?"
Wow, he's really nice.
"Okay," I whisper.
"Good," he says as his eyes move to my mouth just a second before he lowers his to mine. I feel him smiling as he takes my bottom lip gently between his teeth, slowly teasing me as he licks and sucks at my lips. My stomach dips, my legs weaken and my body automatically melts into him.
He continues teasing me like this for several more seconds. He's driving me crazy and he knows it and finally, it's me who slides my tongue into his mouth and he moans deep in his throat which completely ignites me. I slide one hand down his back and up his shirt. He's all hard muscle and smooth, warm skin and God, he feels so good.
Our kiss becomes rougher, our tongues tangling, mine intuitively dancing with his. I tilt my head and the kiss goes deeper, shooting sparks straight down my throat, into my belly and ending between my legs.
I run my other hand up the back of his neck, cupping his head and sifting my fingers in his thick, silky hair.
I come back to reality as I feel the upraised, puckered skin of a scar underneath the softness of his hair, at the base of his skull. My fingers just start to trace it from behind his left ear to the middle of the back of his head when he tears his lips off mine, the heat from our kiss still in his eyes.
"What happened to you, Jake?" I ask. That felt like one hell of a scar.
He looks at me for a minute as if he's thinking about whether he's going to answer me or not . But then he says, "Remember the stupid shit I told you I did to earn my father's contempt?"
I nod, frowning.
The heat in his eyes has faded and now he's watching me closely as he says, "Some of that resulted in me tearing the back of my head open. Someday I'll tell you all about it, Evie, I promise. But how about right now I get dinner started?"
I frown and reach my hand up to his hair again and trace the scar. His eyes close and he exhales before he reaches up and removes my hand and brings it to his lips to kiss it. "So damn sweet," he mutters.
Then he takes my hand and leads me to the kitchen and sits me down on a barstool.
"Can I pour you a glass of wine and take a few minutes to change out of this suit?" he asks.
"How about you go change and I'll open the wine and do the pouring," I suggest.
"Perfect. The wine fridge is beneath the counter by the big fridge and the opener is in the drawer above it. Glasses are in that cabinet," he points to an upper cabinet made of glass and full of wine and champagne glasses.
"Got it."
He heads down a hallway between the front door and the kitchen and I get to work on choosing a wine.
Ten minutes later when he re-enters the kitchen, he's in a pair of well worn looking jeans and a black t-shirt. His feet are bare and his hair is damp. He must have taken a quick shower.
He grins at me and I hand him his glass of wine. "Red," I say. "Hope that's ok. Goes with red meat and all."
This is the first time I've seen him in a t-shirt and I can see even more clearly how broad his shoulders are, how wide and muscled his chest is and how his biceps flex when he takes his wine glass from me and extends it towards mine saying, "To beginnings."
I smile and clink my glass gently on his and take a sip, even though I've already been sipping mine as I waited at the bar.
He strides over to the fridge and removes a package of butcher paper and as he's opening it over the counter, he says, "Can I ask you a question? You told me the other night that you didn’t date in high school. Why not?"
I'm sitting in Jake's kitchen, sipping wine while he cooks dinner for me. I feel protected and I feel relaxed and so I answer Jake honestly, even though I have never talked about my high school years to anyone, ever.