by Lacey Black
Second? Plan the best damn date for Lia.
*****
If I were to tell you I didn’t have sweaty palms and jittery legs as I walk up the metal stairs towards Lia’s door, I’d be fucking lying. I’m nervous and excited all at the same time.
I wipe my palms one last time on my khaki shorts before raising my hand to knock on the door. Lia answers right away, throwing the lock and pulling the door open. She smiles as she swings the door open widely for me to enter, and my breath catches in my throat. The heart in my chest speeds up and then tightens almost painfully. Lia stands before me in a light pink sundress and white strappy sandals. She’s drop-dead gorgeous. And tonight, she’s mine.
“Hi,” she says hesitantly. She’s nervous, I can see it on her face and hear it in her voice, which makes me even more nervous. Could she be regretting her decision?
“Hey,” I say as I step inside. “You look stunning,” I tell her as I lean forward and place a gentle kiss on her cheek. Her skin is smooth and warm against my lips. It makes me wonder what other hidden parts of her would feel like against my lips.
“Thank you,” she replies shyly.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes,” she says confidently with a slight smile, exhaling loudly.
Taking her hand within mine, I lead her out the front door. I continue to hold her hand like it’s a lifeline as we hit the last step and walk to my awaiting car. There’s a very light, warm breeze tonight which causes her long hair to feather out around her face. I grip her hand tightly as we descend the last step and walk to my awaiting car. Her hand feels so damn right tucked securely within mine. Complete.
I can’t help but steal one more touch as I open the car door for her. I have a need for her that I can’t explain. I turn her so that she’s facing me, my warm palm caressing her back. She smells like heaven, all sugary with a hint of wildflowers. The long planes of her neck beg for my touch. I slide my free hand up her neck, committing the slope and the silkiness to memory. God, I love touching this woman.
“Your neck drives me wild,” I say huskily.
“I’ve never had someone tell me they like my neck before,” she says with a hint of a smile.
“It does seem a little strange, right? I have no clue what is so damn sexy about your neck, but I just want to touch it,” I tell her as I lay a hand along the column of her neck. “Caress it,” I say as I slide my calloused hand up and down from collarbone to earlobe. “Lick it,” I say mere seconds before I trace the same path with my tongue that my hand just traveled.
The taste of her skin is like lightning. A tornado touches down within my stomach. The storm rages in my veins. Lia shudders uncontrollably in my hands, and I know in this moment, one touch will never be enough. I need more. I need Lia like I need my next breath. Because without her, I might die. The revelation is both startling and exhilarating.
“We should probably go get dinner,” I say as my lips continue to kiss and suckle along her neck.
“What?” she says hazily.
“Dinner. We should go eat.”
“Oh, yeah. Dinner. We should do that.”
I move my head to look deep into her lust filled eyes. Damn, does this woman make me feel things I shouldn’t want to feel. Desire for her courses through my tightly wound body as I help Lia down into the seat. I glance down at her perfect little body one more time while she sits in my car, before shutting the door. Her eyes are flames of desire, and I’m sure they’re a reflection of my own.
I slowly walk around to the driver’s side of the car, counting backwards from twenty as I try to get my raging hard-on under control. I slide down in the seat and steal another glance at my passenger. She gives me a small, shy smile. Fuck counting. I want to throw her over my shoulder, carry her back up the stairs, and ravish her beautiful body from head to toe. All. Night. Long.
I shake my head and turn the ignition. Backing out of the parking lot, I chance one last glance at Lia. She’s looking out the passenger window, hair gently blowing in the breeze. She looks peaceful. It’s the only look I ever want to see on her face again. It’s my new goal in life. To make Lia happy.
El Toro isn’t very busy for a Monday night. There are two other couples enjoying dinner while the speakers pump upbeat Spanish music through them and the television over the bar airs a soccer game. The walls are all painted bold shades of red, green, and blue. The Mexican flag is painted on the back wall, and hot pepper lights are strung around the perimeter. It’s festive and fun, and they make a damn good margarita. I’m usually a beer man, myself, but when you’re here, you can’t help but get a margarita.
“Can I get you a drink?” our waiter asks as he sets the menus in front of us.
“Their margaritas are to die for,” I tell her.
“Oh, I’ll have the peach mango margarita, please,” Lia says with a smile.
“Lime on the rocks for me,” I tell the waiter who hurries off to get our drinks.
Lia folds up the menu and glances around the room. “This place is great,” she says with a smile.
“Wait until you try the food,” I reply.
“Do you know what you would like to order?” the waiter asks after he returns with our margaritas.
“Chicken Chimichanga with extra guacamole, please.”
“I’ll have the steak and chicken burrito and a side of rice,” I tell him.
“Very good. It’ll be out soon,” he says as he takes our menus and disappears into the kitchen.
“So, tell me about college. What did you study?” I ask as I reach across the table and link her fingers within mine.
“Oh, I actually went for interior design,” she says as she shifts in her seat. I notice that anytime I ask about her past, she clams up. It bothers me.
“So, you went for interior design and worked in a bakery. Which did you like better?”
“Believe it or not, the bakery was more my style. There are tons of design companies down in Florida that cater to the wealthy vacationers and the retired, but I just never really felt like I fit in with them. I felt more at home in the kitchen than in the design studio.”
“What made you leave the kitchen?” I ask, anxious to hear her answers. Anxious to get to know her deeper. Praying that she’ll let me in.
“I was in a relationship and he didn’t want me to work,” she mumbles quietly.
My gut tightens at the thought of someone else holding Lia, touching Lia. But more importantly, I hate the way she says he didn’t want her to work. Like she’s not a woman capable of making her own decisions.
Rage - and a little jealousy - churns in my stomach like sour milk. I don’t know this guy, but I already hate him. “Doesn’t seem right, him not letting you work,” I say as casually as possible, though I’m pretty sure I failed.
“Yeah, well, when you’re rich and connected, you get used to everyone catering to you. Garrett was…” she looks over my shoulder as she desperately tries to come up with the right terminology. “Garrett was difficult,” she whispers as she stares off into the distance. Her eyes instantly change from the bright, blue-gray color that they normally are. Now, they appear darker, distant. And what hurts the most is that they are laced with fear and uncertainty.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up,” I tell her, desperately in need of a conversation redirect. “How was dinner last night? Did my family behave?”
“Dinner was great,” Lia says, the light slowly returning to her eyes. “You have an amazing family, Nate.”
“Yeah, they’re pretty cool. My niece and nephews are the fucking shit. I love spending time with them, getting them all sugared up, and then sending them back home to their parents,” I tell her with an ornery grin.
“Well, they are definitely cool. I watched your niece shovel her peas from her plate onto Travis’s plate without anyone realizing it,” Lia tells me.
I laugh hard at the image she just painted. My niece, Brooklyn, is definitely ornery, and I can see her g
etting away with much more than piling peas on someone else’s plate in the future.
Our waiter delivers piping hot platters of delicious food. My mouth is watering and my stomach is all but growling as I grab my fork. I haven’t eaten since I got home from work this morning. I’m starving.
Lia dives in with gusto, slathering her chimi with every ounce of guacamole on her plate. She takes a bite and her eyes close. A small smile crosses her content face as she savors the food in her mouth.
“Oh my god, you have to try this,” she says and pushes her plate towards me.
I cut off a small piece with my fork and shovel it in my mouth. The chicken is prepared to perfection and the cheese sauce has just enough spice to keep you coming back for more. And the guacamole…damn.
“That’s good,” I say as soon as I swallow. “Want a bite of mine?” I ask as I push my plate towards her.
Lia uses her fork to cut off a piece of my steak and chicken burrito. Just as she is about to lift her fork towards her mouth, she swipes it through my cup of sour cream. “There, now it’s perfect,” she says as she takes the bite.
I watch her chew, mesmerized by the movement of her jaw. I watch her delicious throat swallow the bite and I long to lick that damn neck again. Who knew eating dinner could be so fucking erotic.
“So, I have something I want to ask you,” I say in between bites of my burrito. “The twenty-fourth is my brother Jake’s wedding. I was kinda hoping that maybe you’d want to go with me,” I ask, praying that she can’t tell that my nerves have my throat dry and my stomach a little loopy. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me?
“Um,” she starts but doesn’t really say anything. I can tell her mind is working a mile a minute and her nervous jitters have returned.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I say, trying to soften the blow that is coming my way.
“It’s not that, Nate. I just don’t usually date, is all.”
I look up into her beautiful eyes and gauge my response. She wants to go – or at least I think she wants to - but something is holding her back. Something is always holding her back. And I’ll be damned if I don’t vow to get to the bottom of it.
“We still have almost three weeks. Consider it an open invitation if you want to go, okay?”
“That sounds nice. Thank you,” she says with another small smile.
We finish off our dinner in relative silence. After I pay the bill, I take Lia by the hand and head towards the parking lot. Outside, there is little noise as most of Rivers Edge is home and locked up inside the cool confines of their houses. The humidity has been high for the last several days and doesn’t look like it’s going to be letting up anytime soon.
When we reach my car, I pull Lia against my body. She comes willingly and threads her arms around my waist. I feel her perky breasts flatten against my chest and her breathing has a slight hitch in it. Hell, my breathing practically becomes erratic. Lia strokes her hands up and down my back as we continue to hold each other.
“Where do you want to go?” I whisper into the evening air.
“Can we go to the creek?” she whispers back.
I smile against her head as I picture my spot with her in it. “Of course we can,” I say as I place a hard kiss on her forehead. Lia slides into my car, and we set out for my quiet creek bank spot about ten miles outside of town.
As I’m driving down the road – hell, before I even pull out of the parking lot next to El Toro – I link my fingers within hers. Touching her has quickly become a lifeline. It’s as necessary as eating, drinking, and breathing. I don’t think I’ve held hands since Jill and that was over a decade ago. I’ve never felt the need, the desire. But Lia makes me feel all of that, and if I’m being brutally honest, she makes me feel so much more. That terrifies the shit out of me.
When I pull the Mustang into the drive, I quickly hop out and unlock the chain restricting access. The moonlight shines through the windshield illuminating Lia in the front seat. The sight just about brings me to my knees. Her beautiful eyes are following my progress as I stroll back towards the car.
How is it possible to want this woman, need this woman, with such a ferocious intensity that it practically renders me speechless, stupid, and immobile all at the same time? I’ve known this woman for a matter of days. A week. But it feels like I’ve known her forever. I want to worship her body with my own. I want to hold her tight and show her that nothing will ever hurt her. I want to protect her. For the first time in more than a decade, I might want more.
Isn’t that a kicker? My life isn’t conducive to a wife, children, and white picket fences. I’ve made peace with that lifestyle or so I’ve thought. So, why the hell am I dreaming of more with Lia? Because the “more” that I’m envisioning is a hell of a lot more than just throwing her over my shoulder and pleasuring her body all night long. No, it’s so much more. Fuck.
Guys in my line of work do it all the time, I understand that. They have the family at home, the dog, the mortgage, and the baseball practices. But, I’ve seen what happens when the wife receives that knock on the door, telling her that her husband is never coming home again. I’ve held the hysterical woman while she screams for her husband and ignores the truth. I can’t do it. I won’t do it. If I love someone enough, I have to let them go to live their own life.
I slip back inside the car and drive along the path. I park next to the shack and walk around to help Lia out. With her hand securely inside of mine, I lead her towards the old building so we can get the chairs. It’s the perfect summer night to sit outside. Sure, a little on the humid side, but humidity has never really bothered me before. And apparently, it doesn’t bother Lia too much either.
Once the chairs are sitting in the dirt as close as possible along the creek bank, Lia and I both relax and enjoy the quiet. Crickets chirp and frogs croak. The occasional fish jumps in the shallow water of the creek.
“When you were little, what was your dream?” I ask, breaking the silence that has surrounded us for the past ten minutes or so.
Lia is quiet for several beats before responding. “When I was little, I wanted to be a teacher,” she says.
“A teacher? I can see that.”
“I wanted to teach early education like preschool or kindergarten. There was something magical about connecting with children and helping them learn to become better adults. When I was young, I used to sit in my little room and teach the few stuffed animals or dolls that I had. I’d set them on my bed and teach them everything I had just learned from my own teacher.”
Lia leans over and places her hand inside of mine. It’s like she finds comfort in my touch. Maybe even strength. I sense that she’s had a rough past, I can see it in the way she avoids talking about it. I sense that there is so much more to Lia than what meets the eye.
“What about you? What was your dream when you were younger?”
“I’ve always wanted to be a fireman for as far back as I can remember. I used to talk Jake into setting fire to small piles of brush in the backyard. Then, I’d swoop in with my bucket of water or the garden hose and put them out. I was all of ten years old, maybe.”
“I can definitely see you running around with that cute little hat on and pretending to be a firefighter,” Lia says with a smile.
“I owned that damn hat. Got me all the chicks in elementary school,” I chuckle.
Lia laughs from the seat next to me. “Maybe you’ll have to show me the hat and let me be the judge of that,” she replies. The air around us crackles. The laughter and the lightness fade away. In its place is smoldering ambers of desire, waiting for that little spark to ignite the entire place, sending it up in flames.
“I’ll tell you what, next time you’re in St. Charles, stop by the firehouse and I’ll show you my hat.” I lean closer, my mouth just a whisper away from her ear. I can smell the flowers in her shampoo and the sweetness of her lotion. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll even show you my pole.”
Lia makes a noise; a throaty choking sound that shoots straight to my groin. The air is so thick, it’s a struggle to suck each breath into my lungs. I lean just a fraction of an inch closer until my mouth is touching her ear. “And don’t forget about my hose. I have lots and lots of hose,” I whisper as my breath fans out against her.
Lia turns ever so slightly until I can see her wild eyes. Eyes that are filled with raging desire. The deep gray swirls around like a tornado, ready to devour anything or anyone in its path. And I am the luckiest son of a bitch to be standing smack dab in the center of the trail.
My lips seek hers out entirely on their own like magnets drawn together. With a single swipe of my tongue, Lia opens her mouth for me, sucking my tongue in hard and fast. If I was a lesser man, I would have lost it right then and there in my shorts. Lia’s hands dive into my hair. The feel of her nails digging into my scalp almost sends me completely over the edge. She scratches down the back of my neck as we continue to dual with our mouths and tongues.
When she reaches my back, my muscles tighten against her nails causing her to dig in deeper. She can mark me all she wants, just as long as she never stops. I flex my back muscles again and she lets out the sexiest moan I’ve ever heard. I swallow the noise as I cradle her against my hard body and lie her down in what little grass we have along the creek bank.
I rise up momentarily and take in the sight before me. Lia’s long, brown hair is fanned out around her head, her breathing is coming in quick, loud pants, and her nipples are peaked and pressing hard against the cotton of her sundress. She’s the sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever seen. Ever.
I drop back down to her lips and devour her with another scorching kiss. Lia’s hands return to my back. She pushes my shirt upward until I feel her hot hands on bare skin, which makes me shiver at the contact. She pushes the shirt up and over my head. Her hands drop the shirt and return to my back. Her nails continue to bite and claw at my sensitive skin. It’s the most delicious pain I’ve ever experienced.