by Jenika Snow
My heart was thundering so loud and hard I wondered if he could hear it. “This is kind of…intense, right?” I didn’t know if I was asking him, myself, or hadn’t meant to say this out loud at all. Either way, the glint in his eyes told me he expected this reaction, or maybe he was pleased by it.
“It is. I am,” was all he said. I knew that the things I’d thought about Deacon, about his virility, his masculinity, the fact that he was a real man, had in no way prepared me for the reality of it. He bordered on caveman. I could see it, feel it in the way he looked at me, spoke to me.
And God, I wanted more of it.
Before I could say anything, though, Deacon moved back, only putting a foot or two between us. Maybe he was waiting for me to say something, and I wished I could, but right now I was speechless. I looked at his hands, which were so strong, so powerful. They were stained from the work he did, but I found that even more attractive.
“I want to pick you up tonight for dinner.”
I found myself swallowing, wanting to agree, to accept, of course. Instead I just nodded. This man was more experienced than me, clearly, in all things. I felt like a schoolgirl compared to him, this innocent little virgin that had never been kissed. Although I was a virgin, I wasn’t a prude. But standing beside Deacon told me that being with him would have me comparing every other man in my future to him.
“Okay,” I finally managed to muster, and the pleasure I saw in his face could have made me a puddled mess.
And then he turned and left me standing there, my body on fire, my hands shaking, and my mind a whirl of confusion and anticipation.
“What in the hell just happened?” Robin asked, and I forced myself to turn around and stare at her. She looked just as dumbfounded as I felt. “Was that Deacon from the blacksmith shop?” She’d been living here longer than me, grew up in town even. Of course she knew about him.
I nodded.
“And he just asked—no, told you he was taking you out?”
I nodded again.
Her eyes were wide. “Do you know what you’ve gotten yourself into?” Her voice held this wonder.
I turned and stared at the now closed front door. “No, not at all.” But I’m sure as hell looking forward to it.
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About the Author
Find Jenika at:
@jenikasnow
jenikasnow
www.jenikasnow.com
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