you.
Sean : Isn’t that what dating is for?
He’s right, but I’ve never done this before, and I don’t want him to know that. I probably already seem like a freaking prude. I mull over my response, but he comes back faster.
Sean: Give me one dinner.
Maybe I should just give it to him straight. If it scares him away, then it’s for the best.
Me: I’ve never done this before.
I hold my breath, waiting for his response.
Sean: Had dinner? I find that hard to believe.
I put the phone back down on the counter. I know he probably didn’t mean it the way I’m thinking. Had dinner? I find that hard to believe .I’m undoubtedly being sensitive, but it still burns. I’m clearly not up for dating if something so simple can make me feel like shit. This man has barely said three words to me and I’m already feeling heartbreak.
He could shatter me.
Me: I can’t do this.
I send the text and just stare at my phone. Minutes tick by, each one seeming heavier than the last, with no response.
I guess that was that. No fight to make me change my mind. I need to get some air.
“I’m going to lunch,” I mutter to Harper, who’s playing on the computer. The bank has been pretty dead today. Maybe when I get back I can get caught up on some paperwork and get my mind off this Sean guy. How I got so wrapped up so fast, I’ll never understand.
I try to tell myself it’s better this way. I just dodged a major bullet.
“K. I’ll go when you get back.”
I go into my office, grabbing my purse from the drawer inside my desk before checking in with a few other people. I slip out the door. I don’t make it two blocks in the direction of my favorite bakery, Muffin Tops, before I’m pushed up against the side of a building.
Sean.
His mouth is on mine before I can even take in what’s happening. His hands grip my hips in a firm hold, making me gasp, and he steals the opportunity to push his tongue into my mouth. I thought the kiss would be rough and fast with the way he pressed me against the wall, but it’s sweet and soft.
He’s taking his time, giving me slow lazy strokes of his tongue. It’s as if he’s savoring my taste, and I let him. I don’t feel as if I’m really kissing him back. I’m just enjoying the warmth of his lips on mine as I come alive inside. I've never felt such need in my life.
When he nibbles my bottom lip, desire shoots through my whole body, making me want more. I press myself into him, wanting to make the kiss deeper, but just as I do, he pulls away, resting his forehead against mine. His chest rises and falls, and I feel his warm breath against my lips.
“Tell me what I did that scared you off so I don’t do it again.” His eyes are squeezed shut, like he’s trying to get himself under control. His words catch me off guard because I’m still riding the high of my first kiss, and I can barely make out what he’s asking.
“What?” I gasp breathlessly. His eyes pop open, looking into mine. This time they seem more green than brown.
“Fuck. You look good like this.” He moves his body, shielding me more, like he doesn’t want anyone to see me. I have to strain to look up at him. It’s easy for him to cover me with his broad body. I totally forgot we’re on a busy Chicago street in the middle of the day. “Why’d you back off from me?”
“I didn’t. I’m against a wall. I can’t move.” Wait. Did he say I looked good?
“I mean when I was texting you. My little fox is already trying to give me the slip? You’ll have to be quicker than that.” He smirks at me, showing me his perfectly white teeth. How does he do that? Look all badass with his tattooed arms and big freaking body caging me in, but then his eyes go all soft and he flashes that smile, making him look so…I don’t even have a word for it.
“You going to answer me, babe, or you going to keep staring at my mouth? Because if it’s the mouth, we’ve got to get out of here. I’m not having everyone look
John B. Garvey, Mary Lou Widmer