The Blind Date

That Saturday she’d purposely worn her white sundress dotted with images of red and green foliage on it. She liked the way the dress looked on her. It clipped around her neck, and the neckline dipped low on her breasts, showing off their fullness. The lightweight fabric skimmed her curves, and Ryan had spent the entire day with his hands lingering on some part of her body—her back, her shoulders, her bare arms. The halter top dress had been a distraction to him all day. He couldn’t keep his hands off her, and she had basked in the heat of his constant attention.

That night, they’d gone to play pool and the entire time they were in the pool room, he’d stood guard beside her like a sentry and stared down any man who dared look at her as she bent over the table to take her shots. At the end of the game, they collected their money and his fingers had curled around her wrist. Instead of walking out the front, he led her out a side door into an alley.

With a level of impatience she’d never seen any man exhibit before, he’d held her against the wall and growled in her ear that she’d been making him hard all day. They started slow and graduated to a passionate make-out session. His hands had roughly caressed her body, her fingers had tunneled into his hair, and their mouths had devoured each other with panting, hungry kisses. Soon, he’d been wedged between her thighs and had filled her, right there in the alley, with her knee hoisted above his waist.

The possibility of getting caught only heightened the level of eroticism. Even now, thinking back, she couldn’t believe she’d done such a thing. She’d been into it—with him all the way, partially worried that someone would see them, but knowing they wouldn’t stop even if they were caught.

No one had ever accused her of being spontaneous. She’d never uttered the words go with the flow. Yet with Ryan, none of it had mattered. She had been spontaneous. She had been uninhibited.

He, too, had seemed to learn something new about himself, because when they were done, he’d had a bewildered look on his face.

“Is something wrong?” she’d teased.

But he hadn’t been amused. He’d simply stared at her for a while. So long, in fact, that she began to fidget. “No,” he’d said. “Everything is finally right.”

The words had warmed her. An unfortunately short-lived sensation.

“I had so much fun that weekend,” Ryan said. “Felt like I didn’t have a care in the world.”

Shawna inhaled sharply and closed her eyes. Her heart started beating faster as she recalled the touch of his fingers, his breath on her neck.

Luckily, the flashing lights of the tow truck infiltrated her closed lids and the moment was lost. Beside her, Ryan shifted, and minutes later she gave the driver the address to her mechanic’s shop.

Ryan asked her what she wanted to do, and for the second time that night she hovered in indecision. She could accept the lift from Ryan, but at what cost?

Finally, she decided she could handle him. The ride to her house wouldn’t take long and then she could send him on his way and be done for the night.

“All I need is a lift, Ryan.”

“That’s all I’m offering.”

Taking a much needed breath, Shawna followed Ryan across the parking lot to his blue pickup truck.

“Ready?” he asked after they put on their seat belts.

She pulled the bottom of her dress down to cover her legs as much as she could. No need to give him any ideas. Being inside the truck filled her with nervous energy. This heightened awareness of him signaled danger. She stayed close to the door so she couldn’t smell him or be tempted to touch.

“Yes,” she replied.





Chapter Thirteen


Neither of them said much as Ryan drove the truck toward Shawna’s home in Buckhead.

She sat with her arms crossed, staring out the side window, when the vehicle began to slow down. To her surprise, Ryan pulled into the parking lot of a Krispy Kreme doughnut shop.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m getting doughnuts.” He got in line behind two other vehicles.

“Is this really necessary?” she asked.

He looked calmly at her. “It won’t take long. This is something I do sometimes after I leave work late. Thanks to you, I’m helplessly drawn to the ‘Hot Now’ sign.” He looked anything but helpless.

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