by Peggy Bird
No such luck.
In the car on the way back to city hall, Powell asked, “What are you serving for dinner?”
“I thought I’d make steak and salad, with a baked potato and brownies. He’s coming over at seven and I don’t have a lot of time to fuss with something more complicated.”
“The brownies are good. Chocolate is sexy. But the rest is boring. You need something more exciting, more romantic.”
“I’m not doing oysters and champagne. Too obvious. And he’d have to drink the whole bottle of champagne.” Shannon tried to sound as firm as she could.
“Right. It is too obvious and you don’t want him drunk and unable to perform. But seafood is a good idea. How about cioppino? It’s full of aphrodisiac tomatoes and spices, and has clams and mussels you can feed each other. It’s easy to make and delicious. A nice loaf of bread. Wine or beer for him. Then those brownies.”
“Sure you don’t want to come by and check out my arrangements tonight? Maybe give me some advice on what I should do after dinner?” Shannon asked, trying hard not to let sarcasm completely take over her tone of voice.
“No,” Powell said. “Not necessary. Even if you can’t remember how to find your way around a man’s body, if he’s as hot as you say he is, he’ll help you along.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Powell. I may be younger than you are but I’m neither a virgin nor a prude. Give me some credit here.”
“Okay, sweetie, okay. No need to go postal here. Only trying to make sure you have the weekend you’ve been needing ever since Jeremy the Jerk went AWOL.”
Shannon laughed. “You know, I do deserve a good weekend. And I’m going to make sure Leo and Walter and I have one.”
“Leo and Walter? You didn’t tell me he was into ménage.”
“It’s his dog, Powell. Walter is a dog. Geesh. What a mind you have.”
“Damn. I was hoping you’d introduce me when you got finished with them.”
Chapter Seven
Shannon only had an hour and a half after she got home from the grocery store to get the sauce base for the cioppino going, the table set, and herself ready. After a quick shower, she got into the new bra and bikini panties which, she had to admit, looked great on her and made her feel sexy. What would cover the new undies took more time. She tried on a skirt, a dress, two pairs of pants, three shirts, and a sweater before deciding on a pair of black pants, a coppery-brown knit top, and a black and copper print scarf.
Her clothing indecision left her only a bit of time to fuss with the setting for her dinner with Leo. After cueing up her iPod with her favorite Decemberist album then setting the table with lots of candles and her best placemats, she make a swing through the living room, tidying up the already spotless room.
Her living room, with its off-white couch, Mission style rocking chair, and deep red Oriental knock-off area rug always looked neat. But she fluffed up a couple of red pillows on the couch, moved one book and a few magazines around on the low cocktail table in front of the couch, and realigned the angle of the table itself by one-half inch. Rearranging the books in the small bookshelf near the door, she began to have second thoughts. Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea. Was she really the kind of woman who asked a guy to spend the weekend? Used him for sex? That’s what it felt like she was doing because she didn’t think she was ready to get involved in any other way. Not with her track record.
Her swirling misgivings were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Hi,” Leo said before she could say anything. “Are we early?” He smelled freshly showered and was wearing jeans and a soft-looking white cotton shirt with thin blue stripes and epaulets on the shoulders.
“No, not at all. Welcome. Please. Come in.” She knew she sounded stilted and formal but wasn’t sure how to relax.
Fortunately Leo knew how to make it happen. Kissing her on the forehead between her eyebrows where she was sure she was frowning, he said, “I thought you might like this,” and handed her what looked like a bottle of wine.
She read the label—not wine, a sparkling apple cider.
“It’s from an artisan cider mill in Eastern Washington. They’re really good at what they do, I’m told.”
On tiptoes, she thanked him with a kiss on the cheek. “You’re so sweet! Thank you.”
“I didn’t know if you’d discovered them yet and figured you’d enjoy it.” A beautiful golden retriever pushed between them. “Oh, and this is … ”
“Walter,” she finished. She knelt, put the bottle on the floor and put out her hands, palm up, so he could sniff them. “Hi, boy. Aren’t you pretty?” Stroking down his sides, she continued making friendly noises as the dog licked first her hands, then her face, his tail wagging and brushing against Leo’s legs.
“I don’t believe it,” Leo said. “He’s usually shy with strangers until he’s been around them for a while. But he obviously has good taste in who he warms up to so fast.”
“He recognizes a dog lover when he smells one.” She stood up, bottle in hand, and headed for the kitchen. Walter followed her without waiting for a signal from his owner.
“Hey, Walter. Remember me? The guy who pays your vet bills?” Leo said as he trailed after his dog.
“He must know I have a treat for him,” Shannon said as she pulled a biscuit from a paper bag and fed it to him. “There’s this great bakery in downtown, Bleu Door. They make wonderful bread and bake dog biscuits, too. I got some for him when I got bread for our dinner.”
“He’ll never go home with me now.”
“I doubt he’s so fickle.” Shannon opened the refrigerator door and brought out a beer.
“He follows his stomach.” Leo took the beer, shook his head at the proffered glass, and twisted off the cap. “Actually, so do I. And something smells good in here.”
“It’s cioppino.” A panicky feeling swept over her. “Oh, my God, I never thought to ask. You’re not allergic to shellfish, are you? Or are you vegan? Gluten sensitive? Anti-GMO?” She took a breath and was about to say, “Lactose intolerant?” when he interrupted.
“No. No. No and no. Do you quiz all your dinner guests this way?”
“Only the ones from Portland.” She gave him a smile she hoped was innocent looking, even if the remark wasn’t.
“Well, us guys from Troutdale aren’t so fussy. You can stop looking like you’re about to have a panic attack.” His smile in return wasn’t at all innocent, which made her quite happy.
• • •
A couple hours later, they’d finished the cioppino and bread, eaten almost all of the salad, and in dinner table conversation, had found out more about each other. Shannon learned the college he didn’t finish was Stanford, which he left after almost three years to work with the glassblowers at Firehouse Glass in Vancouver. A year later, he had the chance to move into the GlassCo studio owned by Amanda St. Claire, the well-known glass artist. Amanda had so much confidence in Leo and his work, she’d fronted the money for him to start on his July Fourth project before the grant had been processed from the Community Foundation. Yet another reason for him to want it to go well.
In turn, Shannon told him about her long, slow slog for a master’s degree in public administration, which, she said, would take her into the next millennium at the rate she was going. They talked about movies and e-readers versus paper books. He told her about his studio mates and his friends at Firehouse Glass, and she told him about Powell, even admitted Powell had helped her plan the evening because she was afraid Shannon was out of practice.
Which, of course, led to a conversation about why she was out of practice. They were amused to discover her “I need more space” breakup had occurred at about the same time as Leo’s “It’s not you, it’s me” breakup. However, it wasn’t amusing enough to continue the discussion for very long and have exes get in the way of the rest of the evening.
Shannon cleared the table of their dinner dishes and was loading plates into the dishwasher when Leo
followed her to the kitchen, came up behind her, and slid his hands around her waist.
“The dishes can wait, can’t they? Let’s take the plate of brownies into the living room.” He began to nibble on her neck. “Yum. You taste as good as dinner did.” He turned her around and pulled her against him. Lowering his head, he claimed her mouth in a blazing hot kiss, reminding her exactly how much he wanted her. She wanted to respond the same way, let him know she wanted him, too. But she was overcome with a sudden unexplained reluctance. Maybe it was their conversation over dinner touching on Jeremy. If it was, this was a fine time for him to rear his ugly head. She’d been over Jeremy for months. Maybe it was her head telling her heart not to get involved so she got hurt again.
More likely, her hesitancy was simpler than that: she was at the crucial point of what she’d set in motion the night before. Her courage was leaving on a jet plane and she didn’t know when it would be back again.
He must have sensed it because he broke from the kiss and cocked his head, a slight frown on his handsome face. “Are you okay? Was it too much talk about our exes?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I was the one who asked you to stay for the weekend. And I planned the whole evening, even bought new underwear to impress you, but all of a sudden I feel shy.”
It looked like he was trying hard not to smile. “New underwear, huh? Sounds like a pretty serious commitment to spending the weekend in bed.”
She frowned, squinting her eyes. “Are you making fun of me?”
“Baby, I would never jeopardize my chances of seeing your new underwear by laughing at you.” He squinted back at her. “Although you have to admit, it is close to being funny.”
“You better kiss me again before I overthink this any more than I already have.”
He was happy to oblige. This time the kiss was slow and sweet, his lips soft, his tongue lazy as it swept through her mouth. The evidence of his arousal pressed against her, making her response to his kisses even more intense as her body went along for the ride.
She sighed in his arms. “I have about three more dishes to put in the dishwasher, and you need to get Walter’s dog bed and your things. Then we can get him settled and go … we can finish up … we can have dessert.”
When Walter had been walked, fed, and settled with a chew toy in his bed, Leo joined her in the living room where she was sitting on the couch, playing with the brownie crumbs on her plate. He picked up a brownie and watched her as he took a bite. “You’re nervous.”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it? I’ve used up all my courage asking you to stay the weekend. And now, I’m not sure what’s next. I’ve never propositioned a man before. What do I do now? Like, should I carry you upstairs or something?”
The trying-to-contain-a-laugh look returned. “I don’t want to cast doubt on your abilities, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s not likely to result in anything other than one or both of us getting hurt, which would seriously interfere with what I had in mind for this evening. How about you lead me to your bedroom and I’ll take it from there?”
“Oh, thank you.” She was sure he could see her whole body relax with the relief she felt.
They may have been joking around downstairs, but once they were in her bedroom, all vestiges of humor disappeared when he turned out the overhead light she had flipped on.
“What are you doing?”
“Making it easier for you to let me finish up the seducing. This light’s enough.” He switched on a small light on her bedside table, which cast a warm, soft glow on the room.
Then his hands were on either side of her face, gentle, tender, caressing her with the pads of his thumbs. As he stroked her mouth, she sighed, her lips parted, and he teased her tongue with one thumb. She instinctively sucked on it and heard an answering groan from him.
He slid his hands slowly from her mouth to her neck to her shoulders as he feathered tiny kisses along her jawline. “I think it’s time I get to see your new underwear,” he whispered. Before she could agree, he was tugging on the hem of her sweater, bringing it up over her head, then tossing it on the floor.
The dark desire in his eyes when he saw the black bra barely covering her breasts made the torture of shopping with Powell worth it.
“Jesus, Shannon, you’re beautiful.” He fell to his knees, massaging one breast and cupping the other so he could take it into his mouth, scrape gently at the nipple through the lace, suck and lick it before he finally unhooked the front clasp and peeled off the bra. Returning his attention to her breasts when it was gone, his hot, wet, needy mouth now had no barrier between it and her sensitive nipples.
All her senses were concentrated on the connection between them. There was nothing in the world for her but the sensation he was creating. Then the tingle began to spread from her breast to her belly, from there to her core. Her knees became so wobbly, she didn’t know how long she would be able to stand.
Leo must have somehow known because just before she reached the point of falling, he lay her down on the bed, pulled off her shoes, and unzipped and removed her pants. Clad now only in the black bikini panties and the flush of desire she could feel on her face, she was tempted to cover her breasts with her hands. But the look on his face, the desire in his eyes, made her want to show this gorgeous man, who wanted her as much as she wanted him, she was as brave as her words last night had been.
• • •
Unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, Leo didn’t take his eyes off her. Her hair looked like honey spread out on the pillow, the way he’d imagined it. Her brown eyes were wide with desire, her pale pink nipples tight with arousal. If he said it every minute from now until hell froze over, he could never tell her enough how beautiful she was.
His shirt joined the pile of her clothes on the floor and so did his shoes. But the sight of her sprawled on the bed was irresistible. He couldn’t finish undressing without kissing her again. Kneeling on the bed between her legs, he kissed his way up her body from the lacy band of her bikinis to her navel. From the valley between her breasts until he finally reached the base of her throat. He kissed, nipped, and sucked at her pulse point, feeling the pounding of her heart matching the rhythm of his.
When he sat up to finish undressing, Shannon beat him to the snap at the top of his jeans. And when she followed by lowering the zipper and taking him in her hand, he took in a surprised breath. The feel of her soft hand on his hard cock almost undid him. He groaned then reluctantly took her hand away.
“Let me get these off,” he said. He shed the jeans and boxers after removing a condom from the pocket and placing it on the bedside stand. Returning to her, he reached for her hands and laced their fingers together.
“I want to go slow and easy. We’re in no hurry tonight. I want to touch every inch of your skin, taste every bit of you.”
She arched against him, breathing raggedly. “Yes. Please. Touch me.” She guided one of their joined hands down between her legs. Even through her panties he could feel how wet she was already. He unlaced his fingers from hers and slid them under her panties. “We need to get rid of these.” She lifted her hips, and the last barrier between them was gone.
His fingers could now range freely over her sex, parting the folds, finding the nub of her clitoris. “I love how wet you are for me,” he whispered as he slid one finger into her core then a second one, massaging, caressing, making her cry out in pleasure before adding his thumb circling her clitoris until she called his name as she climaxed.
• • •
Shannon had never come so fast in her life. So fast and so spectacularly. She didn’t know what else he had in mind for seducing her, but what he’d done so far was beyond anything she’d ever experienced. She was unable to move for the moment, overwhelmed by the strength of her climax.
“You okay, baby?” Leo had pulled her to him and was stroking her hair.
“Okay doesn’t begin to cover it,” she said in a whispery
voice.
“And we have all night.”
“We have all weekend,” she said as she turned into him and began to nibble at his mouth with little love bites, tasting chocolate and what she thought must be beer, a delicious combination that she’d always remember as Leo. “It’s your turn, though.”
She could feel him smile against her mouth. “I’m doing just fine.”
“I think we can make it better.” She slid her hand down his ripped abs and flat belly to his penis. “I need to make good on my propositioning, don’t you think?” His erection was steely except for the velvety soft tip where a few wet drops lubricated her hand as she massaged him. He grew even harder, bigger under her hand.
As she caressed and rubbed him, she trailed kisses down his jawline and the side of his neck. He groaned and pushed his hips forward, moving into her hand. She rubbed harder, as aroused by what she was doing to him and the reaction she was getting as she had been when he had been touching her.
But as she was about to straddle him so she could replace her hand with her body, he flipped her onto her back and grabbed the condom from the table. Ripping open the package, he said, “Here, cover me,” his voice raspy with want.
She was sure her hands were shaking as she pinched the tip then unrolled the condom over him. When she was finished, she drew him between her legs and felt his hard length against her sex.
Bracing himself on his forearms Leo guided his penis into her, thrusting deep and strong, moving the electricity of their kissing and touching inside her. She could feel nothing but Leo on her, in her, around her. When he nuzzled her neck then moved to her mouth to add the rhythm of his tongue playing with hers to the feeling of his penis inside her, she gave herself completely to the sensation, the wonder of their bodies moving together, higher and higher, closer to another orgasm.