Well-defined, with a sharp jaw and angular cheekbones and a genuine warmth you couldn’t cook up in a genetics lab, Will had a beautiful face. But it wasn’t the kind of beauty you’d see on the cover of a magazine; it was different. Captivating yet subtle. Soft yet firm. And when the slight olive complexion of his skin mixed with the ocean blue of his eyes, it made it nearly impossible to look away.
While he brought his beer to his full lips, I sat mesmerized. It was as if the alcohol that slid down into his throat had a direct link to my body, bolstering the warm sensation already living deep inside my belly.
When his chin came back down after his drink, he joined me in my perusal and didn’t once question the silence. The jovial sounds of bar patrons and the serenading voice of Beyoncé filled the background, but that’s all it was in that moment—just background noise. With Will’s avid attention fixed on me, everything else felt nonexistent. Hell, Beyoncé could’ve been standing in the middle of the dance floor singing “Single Ladies,” and I wouldn’t have noticed. I felt drunk off of him. Well, I was probably already a little drunk, but the buzz from the alcohol paled in comparison to the vibrating, heady energy that flowed between us.
His hand flexed on my thigh again, and my walls based on traditional first-date boundaries all but crumbled.
I wanted him. More than just dinner, more than just dating, I wanted him. Naked. Hard. Clawing at my skin. Kissing my neck. Sliding inside of me.
The room darkened as the lights inside the bar flashed with the techno beat of the next song, and I savored the feel of being cloaked in privacy. Will and I, sitting at a small high-top table toward the corner of the room, had now become unrecognizable to the other patrons. And before I could stop myself, I turned on my barstool, my back to the crowd, and faced Will directly. He watched me intently, his eyes fixed on mine, until I slowly parted my legs.
Without inhibitions and fueled by desire, I took his hand from my thigh and into mine and ran his index finger higher, under the material of my skirt and along my hot skin. His gaze locked on the apex between my thighs where only a hint of my panties was visible beneath the material of my skirt.
Touch me, I silently begged, and he didn’t disappoint.
I stopped helping him, but he kept going, his fingers leaving an electric trail until they reached the tiny sliver of silky material covering the place where I ached and throbbed for him.
I thought maybe he’d shy away from the public setting, but he took what I was thinking and did me one better.
With his gaze back to mine, he moved my panties to the side and ran his index finger through my arousal—once, twice, three times—and my hips jolted forward in response. His touch was calculated yet gentle as his thumb found my clit, pressing firm enough to spur a shot of pleasure up my spine.
“Does that feel good?” he asked, leaning forward enough that his lips skimmed the skin of my neck, and I nodded.
At least, I thought I’d nodded. For all I knew, my head had escaped my body—the only two places I knew with certainty were there were the ones Will was touching.
His thumb set up a rhythm of smooth, mind-blowing circles on my clit, and I swallowed my moan.
Good Lord, I wanted more. Needed more.
“Come home with me tonight,” he said into my ear. He lifted my chin with the tip of his finger, locking our gazes once more. “Let me spend the night with you.”
“Yes,” I whispered. I’d had the answer prepared before he even asked me the question. Whatever he wanted, I wanted.
Fingers still toying with me, he moved his lips from my ear to my mouth, and I gasped in surprise. But as soon as the tip of his tongue touched mine, I immediately responded with fervor, pulling his bottom lip into my mouth, sucking on his tongue, until both of our mouths and lips and tongues were dancing the same rhythm together.
“Let’s go,” he moaned against my lips. I didn’t want to stop, not at all. Not to move from this spot or to come up for air or anything. I just wanted him to keep touching me forever.
My disappointment was audible when he pulled his fingers from my pussy and put my panties back in place, but it didn’t last long.
In perhaps the most erotic move I’d ever paid witness to, he lifted his fingers to his mouth, right in front of my face—close enough that I could smell myself there—and sucked them inside.
“Yes,” I said finally, in answer to leaving—in answer to everything—and he didn’t waste any time, all but dragging both of our bodies toward the exit.
Time had turned into a blur of hurried kisses and brushing touches and stealing, desirous glances. Somehow, we’d left the bar and hopped into a cab. Somehow, we’d gotten to Will’s apartment. And somehow, we’d found ourselves standing face-to-face, still fully clothed, in the middle of Will’s bedroom with the foot of his bed beside our hips.
The night had morphed from the speed of light into slow motion.
We just stood there, looking at one another, the intensity so high it felt like I might come out of my skin. Still, there was something about this moment, this intimate encounter, that had forced both of us to take our time and savor every look, every touch, every tiny little second of time that equaled us, Will and me, together.
Without words and with his heated gaze locked with mine, his fingers slid up my wrist, to my elbow, until they stopped at my shoulder blade. They rested there for a breath and then slowly, oh so slowly, moved my shirt to the side. His fingers danced, skirting between not moving at all and just barely whispering against my skin.
I wasn’t sure why, but that one innocent touch, his touch, felt more erotic than the act of sex itself. Maybe I was horny. Maybe I’d reached my threshold of sexless days. Or maybe, just maybe, what had started to occur between Will and me was something words couldn’t explain.
The electricity of the moment slid up my spine as he started to undress me, first with his eyes, and then with his hands, removing every item of clothing—my bra, my panties, even kneeling in front of me to take off my shoes, with slow, calculated, and unhurried movements.
Bare and naked and vulnerable for his gaze, I felt him take me in. He didn’t touch me. Kiss me. Say anything. But make no mistake, Will savored me. His blue eyes caressed and whispered against every single inch of my skin so vividly it felt like a real touch.
I followed his lead, looking into his eyes, and without haste, I removed his shirt, his pants, his socks and shoes, and I didn’t stop until his boxers were on the floor and his tan and toned and muscular form was gloriously naked.
Will naked.
Oh boy.
I had fantasized about this.
Hell, I’d probably spent far too much time daydreaming about this very moment. But by the looks of things, I hadn’t been doing a good enough job.
Without shame, I let my eyes move across his skin, starting with his face and taking my time, moving down, down, down until I reached his hard and straining cock. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of him. He was beautiful. And big. And he was just as turned on as I was.