“I’m going for a run, while you finish working. Be back in a bit.” Followed by another one of those don’t-forget-me kisses and he’s out the door.
I still have some work to do, but now I’m distracted and want cake. I tell myself no cake, you have a date tonight and work to do. Okay, no cake until you get your work done.
I get back to work, checking my email, making sure I haven’t missed any phone messages and of course I must see what’s new on my social media. I send out an email with options and prices for my group trip request and finish booking a honeymoon I’ve been corresponding with the bride-to-be on for about a month. Lastly, I check social media and everything work related is current.
I go to my pantry to see if I have ingredients for cake, and I have a box mix that’ll work if I doctor it up. Setting the oven to preheat, I empty the chocolate cake mix into my mixing bowl and add a small box of instant cheesecake pudding mix, give it a quick whisk and add the eggs and oil as directed on the package, replace the water with milk and stir to see if I have the correct consistency. I add a bit more milk and stir again, much better. I drop in some semi-sweet chocolate bits and look around the kitchen. I check the refrigerator and the freezer. I don’t know what I’m searching for. I find some leftover cream cheese, put it in a separate mixing bowl and toss it in the microwave for a few seconds to soften it up. I add some powdered sugar to the cream cheese and stir until it’s smooth. I pour my chocolate cake mix into a nine by thirteen baking dish and add spoonfuls of my cream cheese mixture evenly throughout the cake, making pools of deliciousness. I get a butter knife and drag it, zigzagging across the cake causing a swirl affect. I stick it in the oven and set the timer for thirty minutes. Waiting for cake to bake is the worst, it’s a big tease! You know it’s there and you want it, it makes you wait. It teases you with its delicious smell while it’s baking.
I wander out to my balcony and see Rick running along the river path. I clean up my kitchen mess and wash up a bit, so it’s not obvious I licked the bowl the raw cake batter was in… and the bowl the cream cheese mix was in. Well, I couldn’t waste it. There’s still a few minutes left on the cake when he comes back in from his run.
“Cake? I thought you were working,” he says.
“I finished up for the day and wanted cake,” I say, used to doing whatever I want.
I’d been dreaming about our date and wondering where he’s taking me or what I should wear, “What’s the appropriate attire for our date tonight?”
“You wear whatever you want. You’re beautiful no matter what,” he says. “I’m going to take a shower and clean up from my run. But, I want to talk to you and now would be best,” he continues. “I will not be having sex with you tonight. I want you to know now, so you don’t read anything into it. I want you to know it’s more than sex,” he sounds like there’s more.
“I don’t know why you’re punishing me by withholding sex, but whatever,” I say laughingly, waiting for him to say more. He simply turns and walks away, releasing an exasperated sigh.
Rick gets cleaned up, while I take the cake out of the oven and sample it—Yum!
When he emerges from the shower he’s dressed in extra dark jeans and a navy blue long sleeve dress shirt with turquoise pinstripes that set off his eyes—and smells ah-mazing.
“I’ll be back in an hour to pick you up.” He gives me a sweet kiss on the cheek and he’s out the door.
I check my closet and decide to go with my new Cookie Monster panties, tight black jeans and a tie dye printed flouncy deep V-neck tank that just meets the top of my jeans, with my black gladiator sandals. I apply a light amount of make-up and curl my hair. Checking my accessories, I choose a simple leather wristband, gold diamond stud earrings for some bling, and leave my neck and chest bare, accentuating the deep V-neck. It’s exactly 6:30. I walk through a spray of my favorite perfume as the doorbell rings.
I open the door to find a gorgeous man with a fragrant bouquet of mixed tropical flowers in a beautiful vase that reminds me of beach glass.
“Hi, come on in,” I play along with the date as if we haven’t spent most of the last eighteen hours naked. “The flowers are lovely.”
“I noticed you like tropical,” he gestures around the room.
“I love anything on the beach, near the beach, smells like the beach, or simply reminds me of the beach. That’s why I’m a travel agent specializing in beach vacations. Someone once told me I should do what makes me happy. The beach makes me happy,” Providing more information than necessary. I swear, diarrhea of the mouth sometimes. “I like to make others happy by helping them with beach trips.”
“That’s a smart person who told you to do what makes you happy,” he replies.
“It was a woman I met on Oahu who was running a small souvenir shop. She said she had worked in corporate America, but she was only happy in her town by the beach,” I sigh remembering my friend, Malia, and wanting to go visit her.
Rick reaches for my hand, “We need to get moving or we’ll be late for our 7pm reservation.”
I follow his lead to his car and he opens the door for me. “You look beautiful.” He kisses me on the cheek.
He gets in the car and we take off toward the freeway. I don’t know where we’re going, other than out to dinner. I can’t remember when I’ve been on a date before when everything was already planned and I was simply along for the ride. I could get used to this. We get off the freeway in Del Mar and head toward the beach.
We park along the side of the road and walk up to a restaurant on the beach. He reserved us an ocean side table with a view of the sunset. And, we’re here at the right time to witness it. He sits next to me on the same side of the table and holds my hand, lacing his fingers with mine. He orders a Mai Tai, a Ginger Lime Fizz and Parmesan Truffle Potato Chips.
I focus on him, “What do you do?” Pretending I don’t know and going along with him not being a baseball player.
“I have a non-profit organization that provides money to send teenagers from financially challenged families to camps for sports and arts. I volunteer at the sports camps, providing special baseball skills training to the campers. But, the art campers are already ahead of any artistic skill I have, so I speak at the art camps about following your dreams,” he states proudly.
I see him with a different perspective, “That’s a great thing.”
“I’m also a professional baseball player. I’m thankful for everyday I get to play. Baseball has provided me the ability to fund my organization, get additional donations from my contacts and charity events. My name helps with the publicity and so do my teammates,” he says, going along with the date and admitting he’s a baseball player to me for the first time. Interesting that being a baseball player is secondary in importance, but the means to his non-profit.
“You’re a baseball player? I had no idea!” I say feigning shock.
Rick looks at me and smiles sincerely. Appreciating that I’ve been going along with him not being a baseball player with me.
Our drinks and appetizer arrive. I take a drink of the Mai Tai and ask him, “Are you trying to get me drunk?” laughing as I ask.
“No, I just want to get to know you. I meant it when I said no sex tonight. I have to tell you, it’s not because I don’t want you.” He leans in and whispers in my ear, “I want to take you right here on the table, then again down on the sand with the waves at our feet. I need your tight wet body around my cock. I need to taste you. I need to hear you calling out my name. I need to feel your heart beating against mine. I need to kiss your perfect lips.” Turning my face to his, he puts his lips to mine softly and sits quietly with his arm around me while we watch the sun paint the sky with shades of pink and orange as it sets into the ocean.
We order dinner and our conversation flows. The food is well plated with tropical flowers as accents on the plates and delicious. His steak looks mouthwatering and my heirloom tomato bisque with ricotta grilled cheese is over the top luxur
ious. We talk about our families, where we’re from and where we consider to be home. His parents still live in the small Colorado town where he grew up, his sister is happily married with two children, and in his heart San Diego is home.
“My dad disappeared when I was young, it’s been me and my mom since I was ten. I can’t imagine it being any different. I grew up in Orange County and moved to San Diego because I’ve always been drawn here. Mom brought me here for vacations every summer. She lives about sixty miles North right at the edge of the Orange County line,” I tell him.
After dinner we walk down to the beach and go for a barefoot stroll in the sand. He laughs at me when I can’t stay out of the water and end up wet to my knees. The clear night is brightly lit by the stars and moon, multiplied by the light bouncing back off the ocean. The beach is empty except for a couple of groups with bonfires burning. In our own world, he stands at my back and wraps his arms around me while we absorb our surroundings.
His warm breath at my ear is killing me, but I try to stick to his no sex rule. I’m not sure about all of his rules.
He speaks calmly in my ear, “I wish you were always in my arms. Nobody has ever made me want to just hold them. I just want to be with you. We don’t need to do anything, but simply be together. You make everything right in the world.” His words melt straight into my heart.
He holds me tightly, wrapping his body around me to keep the chill of the ocean breeze from my arms. Light kisses go down my neck as he holds my hands in his. It’s perfect. I don’t need to speak.
“I know how you feel about me and I know you're scared. I want you to know that I’m scared, too. I don’t want to ever leave you. The kiss I give you when I leave is selfish and all for me, so I can have your taste on my lips when we’re apart. The next road trip is ten days long and I don’t want to be away from you.” He makes my heart beat faster with his words. I had already checked the schedule and I’m dreading Sunday—Get-away day.
We walk back to the car and Rick asks if I want to go to a movie or dancing.
“Actually, I’m starting to get cold. Can we go back to my place? I’ll share my cake with you and we can play a game or something with clothes on,” I suggest.
“Your wish is my command. Leaves us more options for our next date.” He drives to my complex. “Are you available Saturday night after the game?”
“I’m available all day Saturday, that’s my laundry day and I’m happy to put it off.”
“Can you meet me at the dugout after all the kids run the bases post game Saturday?”
“No. I don’t usually go to Saturday games and I don’t have a ticket.”
“Okay, I’ll have a ticket added to your account for Saturday’s game. Will that work?”
“Sure. Any special instructions?”
“Wear your tennis shoes.”
We get home and it’s going to be a challenge to keep my hands off him. I wanted to unbutton his jeans and give him a hand job or suck him off the whole ride home. Something about him keeps me turned on and wanting more. Maybe it’s the time I’ve spent drooling over him as my fantasy or maybe it’s his special brand of pheromones or maybe it’s simply the presence of a cock in the same room with me. Maybe I’m horny and easy. Maybe I’m one of those baseball skanks. That’s it. I’ve got to get control. If it’s important to him, then it needs to be important to me if I’m interested in making this real. Or maybe, in reality, I know this won’t last and I want all of his time that I can have and as many memories as possible.
I get the cake, a fork, and a can of whipped cream, and we sit next to each other on my love seat.
“So what exactly do you see happening here?”
“Just watch and see. Don’t worry, no sex.” I unbutton his shirt, because I want to. Then I take a small bite of cake in my mouth and it makes my eyes roll back in my head, it’s so good. Next I get a bite of cake and feed it to Rick, then I spray some whipped cream into his mouth... and by some I mean as much as will fit. I repeat this a few times until he takes the whipped cream away and starts squirting it into my mouth. It’s getting warm in here, whipped cream and licking and… I put the whipped cream and cake away. Trying my best to be a good girl, because I don’t think I can lick whipped cream off anything else and not have it turn into sex.
“How about we play a game?” I ask.
“No, last time I agreed to a game—well, I still haven’t gone home,” he says with a dirty glint in eyes.
“I promise. Nothing dirty. No sex. No Sherry Says,” I say solemnly. “No fun.”
“What’s left?” Rick looks at me questioning.
“Board games? Cards? Music trivia? Video games?” I offer options.
“Tell me more about Music Trivia.”
“Really? Nobody will ever play any kind of music trivia with me. We have a couple of options. We can turn on the radio and see who knows the artist and title of the song first, or I can get out the music trivia cards.” I say with a grin.
“How about you pick between board games and video games? I don’t feel like getting my ass handed to me on a night I’m not getting laid and I’m pretty sure that would happen with music trivia.”
“Not to be smug, but you would be correct on that assumption. Though you're the only thing keeping you from getting laid tonight. I choose board games,” I say as I get out Sorry, Clue and Trouble. Okay, maybe this will be fun.
“We’re in for the night. Would you like to have a drink with our board games?” I ask. “I promise not to have sex with you.”
He smiles, “Yes. Which game are we playing?”
“All of them,” I reply as I pour some Screwdrivers. “When does the ban on sex expire? And, does it include everything or only the actual deed?”
“All of them?” he questions.
“Yea, they don’t usually take very long to play. Don’t ignore the other questions,” I prod.
“If we do anything it will turn into everything, because I can’t help myself.”
“Okay. So, it turns into a pumpkin at midnight like Cinderella or?” I want an answer. “You're kind of punishing me here. Staying here with me and being near me and having a hard-on like that. Like having a toy and not being able to play with it.”
“Should I leave?” he asks quietly.
Surprised, “No, it’s not like that. I want you here with me. I want your arms around me. I want you to sleep with me in my bed. I don’t want you to leave. I’m trying to understand what you want and help you make it happen.”
He straight out says, “We need to be able to spend time together without getting it on.”
“So, getting naked would be okay, but it’s not okay to have sex?” I couldn’t help myself. “You sit on your side of the board and I’ll stay on my side of the board.”
He sighs, almost a grumble. “You know what I mean.”
And I did. I shouldn’t be adding to his frustration.
We start with two Screwdrivers each and Clue. I’m always Miss Scarlett and apparently I did it with the candlestick in the library. By the time we find out I’m the murderer, I need to make more Screwdrivers and Rick sets up Sorry. Sorry takes forever and I can’t stop laughing. Buzzed much? I do whatever I can to send his little marker dudes back to home base and start over instead of trying to get my marker dudes home. It’s more fun that way. I’ve been accused of cheating at board games. However, I don’t use any of those skills tonight because of the sex ban. Rick is irritated with the game, but laughing and needs another Screwdriver.
Its Screwdriver number six that pushes me over the edge and makes me go back to the cake. Rick turns red with laughter at me as I sit Indian Style with the whole cake pan in my lap, fork in one hand and whipped cream can in the other. Fork of cake in right hand, slide cake off into mouth, left hand comes in with whipped cream, squirt onto cake in mouth and yum. Suddenly he’s on my side of the game board and takes everything away from me. He keeps the whipped cream and takes over with his own process. He fills
my mouth with whipped cream and eats the whipped cream out of my mouth, licking with his tongue deep inside and sealing my mouth with his lips while he sucks the whipped cream from me. It’s amazing. (Note to self: Always keep a can or two of whipped cream in the refrigerator.)
The next thing I know, he says, “It’s after midnight, it would probably be okay for us to have sex now.”
“No. Not until tomorrow after the game. But everything else is fair game. It’s important for you not to give in. I get it. But, if you want to strip me naked and cover me in whip to your heart’s content, I’m up for that and even have some chocolate sauce,” I say, catching him off guard.
He looks at me and his mouth drops. That’s when I remember I’m wearing the Cookie Monster panties that say Eat Me across the butt. I strip down to my panties and stand in front of him giving him my rear view as I bend over, pointing my ass at him. Basically commanding him to eat me. He turns me around and covers my nipples in whipped cream, one at a time. Taking his time to lick and suck every trace of whipped cream off of my breasts, then going back and doing it again… and again… and again. He draws a line with the whipped cream from my breasts to my navel, then to my sex, covering my sensitive nub and folds in whipped cream. He licks the cream from my belly and navel, heading directly to my sex.
“No sex,” I remind him. “But, I’d be happy to lick whipped cream off your dick.” His eyes hooded, I know I’m in dangerous waters if I’m going to hold him to his no sex request. Besides, I really want it and I’m drunk. Not the smartest thing I’ve ever done. He licks the whipped cream from my sex and I take control. I undress him slowly, starting with his shirt and then his pants to find he’s going commando. His cock comes jutting out to meet me and I immediately greet it with my tongue, giving him a suck. I cover him in whipped cream and go to work licking and sucking him all over the hard length of his shaft. I take the can of whip with me to my bedroom and he follows me without request. Lying together on my bed we kiss, facing each other on our sides. I change position and squirt whipped cream on my sex and his cock, putting us both in the perfect position to clean up together. His tongue on my clit drives me to suck him harder and faster, taking his cock completely into my mouth. Groaning and moaning with pleasure. Adding to his pleasure, I start to feel his shock waves and know he’s close. I’m on the edge, but my focus is on making this man come uncontrollably in my mouth. I pull my sex away from him, so he doesn’t have the distraction and can’t help but concentrate on the pleasure I’m giving him with my hot wet mouth and tongue stroking every inch of his cock. I suck on him harder and move on him faster and faster until he goes off like a fire hose in my mouth. I swallow and swallow again without stopping. He reaches for me to make me stop, but I refuse and go back to licking him clean. Rick takes control of me by tonguing my sex and licking my clit, pulling away his cock.
The Sweet Spot (All About the Diamond #1) Page 6