The Dating Proposal(44)

He captures my jaw in his hand. “Hey.” His tone has shifted. It’s softer, but more urgent. “Is everything okay?” he asks intently.

I nod.

He dips his face to mine, capturing my lips in a chaste kiss that still manages to lick the flames inside me. “I needed to kiss you. I didn’t get to on the street.”

I sigh against his mouth. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Kiss me like that?”

He slides his thumb along my jaw. “Like it’s all I want to do?”

My heart executes a back handspring in my chest. Holy shit. I didn’t know my heart knew that move. It nailed the landing too. “Yeah. Just like that,” I say with a dopey grin.

“Because kissing you is all I want to do. I can’t get enough.” He drops his mouth to mine and gives me a brand-new kind of kiss.

It’s the kind that makes the world fall away, that leaves me powerless to resist, helpless to do anything but be consumed by it. Nothing else matters, and the kiss is all there is and all I’ll ever want.

Until it becomes more than a kiss. It becomes imbued with emotions.

“I need to tell you something,” I whisper when we break apart, feeling emboldened now.

“It better be good.”

I touch his cheek, tracing his stubble. “You’re getting under my skin. I can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t stop wanting to see you.”

The smile that spreads on his face is vulnerable and wildly happy too. “In that case, you should keep seeing me. Because I can’t get you out of my head either. Or my heart.”

I’m giddy, bubbling inside. “This is crazy, don’t you think? How this happened with us?”

He sighs happily. “I do think it’s crazy, but I also don’t. Mostly, I know I don’t want it to stop.”

We don’t say a word about trust issues. We don’t dissect the ones we both have. Maybe that time has passed. Or maybe we’re figuring out what matters more. Because the biggest issue I have right now is with myself. It’s believing in my own feelings. Trusting my heart. That’s why Andy’s assessment scared me. That’s why I tried to pretend this wasn't happening.

But this is happening. I can’t deny the truth of my feelings when I’m with Chris. My heart would slap me and call me a liar.

So I don’t even try to ignore the way my toes curl and my body melts and my soul seems to sing when I’m with him.

“Don’t stop,” I whisper.

He leans in for another kiss, and we continue stealing little kisses from each other all throughout the show. We laugh at the funny bits and clap at the end of each act, and we tip the waitress on the way out.

On the street, Chris yanks me close once again. As if he can’t stop touching me. “By the way, you look beautiful tonight. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“I’ll gladly accept the compliment now. Even though I suspect you’re only saying it to get a blow job.”

He blinks, jerking away. “What?” His tone is high-pitched. “Where did that come from?”

I smile like a little vixen. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you haven’t given me the chance to go down on you yet, which is highly unfair of you. But I plan on rectifying that tonight.”

He drags a hand through his hair, breathes a sigh of relief, then orders a Lyft, stat. “Rectify me all night long,” he says as we get in the car.





At his house, I make quick work of his jeans, unzipping them as he tugs off his T-shirt. I push him to the couch, and he falls easily, grinning as he flops down.

“Let the great rectifying begin,” he declares.

“And so it shall.” I take his erection in my hand, wrapping my palm around his length. He groans, a long, low, insanely sexy rumble.

“I’ve been picturing this for a while.” I stroke up, squeezing the tip.

“What took you so long, woman?”

I narrow my eyes. “It’s only our third date.”

“Like I said, what took so long?”

“You were always busy pleasuring me. You didn’t give me a chance.”

“Now’s your chance.”

“And I’m taking it. Stop talking because it makes me talk back, and when I’m talking, I can’t suck your dick.”

He purses his lips like they’re glued shut. But his eyes are wide open, his gaze intense as he watches me drop my lips to him, kissing the head.

He twitches, his hips jerking up.

And that’s a very nice start.

I lick him, then draw him in deeper, every move rewarded by a dirty groan, a hoarse yeah, a feral grunt. The noises he makes are music to my ears, and I take him in all the way, savoring the taste of him in my mouth.

He breathes out hard, cursing his appreciation. “I’ve thought about your lips on me,” he says as he runs a fingertip against my mouth. “These lips of yours . . .”

He doesn’t finish the thought as I give him a tight, hard suck. I flick my tongue along his length as I move up, down, up, down, my fast rhythm punctuated by his growls and groans, by the arch of his hips, by the way his hands curl around my head. His fingers thread through my hair, and he drops his head back against the cushions as if this is all too much.