Date Me

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by Logan Chance


  Gravity held me still as I gazed at her. She was like my own personal guidance system leading me on a course straight for her. “That’s amazing,” I said, carefully returning the egg. An urge to tell her she was amazing soared through me.

  She changed the heavy direction the subject had taken and asked, “What about you?” She shut the cabinet to her egg collection and walked back to the stainless-steel counter. I slid back on my stool and resisted asking about the fucker who mishandled her heart. After covering the dough with a thin sheet of wax paper, she smiled. It didn't quite reach her eyes.

  “I like to read, mainly aeronautical books,” I told her, “but I like the occasional mystery book every once in awhile.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Belinda told me you were a pilot.” She strolled to a large stainless steel sink and washed and dried her hands. She pulled a large tray of pastries and slid it on the counter in front of me. “Ready to fill eclairs?”

  “Sure. How?” I asked, pointing to the pastry.

  “Well, we fill the hole with cream.” My eyes shot to her. She handed me a pastry bag filled with whip cream, oblivious to the fact my mind was now somewhere else. Her eyes scanned my face. “Can I ask what a good-looking fella like yourself is doing on a dating website?”

  She thought I was good looking. For some reason, that pleased me. As she filled a bag of cream for herself, I told her the story of Lexi and Marley putting me on the site with the sole intention of finding me a date for Steffie’s wedding.

  Her brows lifted and she looked over at me. “Ah, I see. This Steffie hurt you pretty bad, huh?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” I didn't want to get into Steffie and the wedding nonsense. Steffie was an egg crusher, just like the asshole who took the light from Kayla’s eyes when she talked about hearts. “What about you? Dating anyone?” I knew the answer from Belinda telling me but wanted to hear the story of what happened.

  “I was up until two days ago.” The far-off look in her eyes returned. “Here,” she said, leaning over slightly and holding her pastry bag next to an eclair, “you push the tip in the hole and then squeeze gently until it's filled with cream.”

  Eclairs were the last thing on my mind now. Tip. Hole. Cream. My cock stiffened. I ran a hand along my jaw. I should get out of here. She looked over at me and gave a nod toward my pastry bag.

  “Don't be scared. Stick it in.” Shit. My eyes trailed along the slight jut of her collarbone as she leaned over working. I wanted to squirt whip cream along it and lick it off. Instead of leaving, I picked up the bag, started filling, and continued down a path I should get the fuck off before a collision happened. “So what happened with you and this guy?”

  She shrugged. “It had been coming for quite some time. I’m fine. We just wanted different things,” she said, all humor gone from her voice.

  “Oh, what did you guys want?”

  “Well, I wanted someone serious and maybe to settle down. I don’t know,” she shrugged, turning to grab a small pan from the stove and setting it by the tray. Melted chocolate.

  “And him?” I asked as she took a spoon and drizzled chocolate on the eclairs.

  She let out a quick laugh. “He wanted to screw every girl who came near him, in as short amount of time as possible.”

  “Ouch, I’m so sorry.”

  She waved off my apology and smiled. And then. Then. When she finished her chocolate artwork, she licked the damn spoon. Her pink tongue slid up the spoon, swirled around, and dipped down again. “Oh, I’m fine. Really, I promise. I don't need someone who doesn't appreciate me.” She untied her apron and tossed it on the countertop. I stood and she looked at me. Her eyes told a different story, and I moved closer.

  “You don’t look fine,” I whispered. Warning bells as loud as sirens sounded in my head, but her sad eyes held me captive.

  “I am though,” she breathed.

  I lifted my hand, needing to touch the ghost of a dimple in her cheek which had faded from her previous smile. Thoughts of her ex took her dimple away. That pissed me off for some reason. I had to see it again.

  My fingers caressed her cheek, and her eyes fluttered closed. Her lips called to me, and I listened.

  Unable to stop myself, my mouth slanted across hers. She tasted sweet like sugar and chocolate, and I needed more. She parted her lips, and I took the opportunity to swipe my tongue across her lips.

  Our tongues met, and the kiss deepened as my hand moved into her silky hair. One quick tug of the holder in her bun and her long hair cascaded down her back.

  Getting closer, I grabbed fistfuls, tugging lightly. She moaned into my mouth and it only egged me on more.

  She broke the kiss, backing away a few paces. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

  I awoke from the sugar induced haze I was under and shook my head. I repositioned my growing hard on as I stepped further away from her. “No, Kayla, it was my fault. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” I was an asshole for kissing her.

  “No, it’s ok. Please don’t tell Belinda. I’m sorry,” she said.

  “I won’t.”

  She smiled, briefly, as I gazed into her sea-blue eyes. “Thank you.”

  “I shouldn’t have kissed you,” I said as her fingers rose to brush along her tasty, full lips.

  “Well, I shouldn’t have allowed it, Erik.” Her tongue dashed out to wet her mouth and something inside of me snapped and weakened toward her.

  I couldn’t resist her for some reason. “Please don’t touch your lips like that,” my deep voice dropped an octave as I stared at her fingers.

  She stopped almost immediately and her hand fell to rest on her neck. “Please don’t say things like that to me,” she whispered. Closer and closer I stepped to her.

  As if on a charted course, my legs carried me until I was standing toe to toe with her. She was quite a few inches shorter than my six-foot frame and my eyes dropped again to her lips. Soft, full, pink, and still glistening from my kiss.

  “I like saying those things to you,” I murmured. My mind was clogged, my heart pounding as my pulse sped up.

  “Please, Erik,” she whispered. Her hand left her neck and landed on my chest. I was sure she could feel my rapid heartbeat pounding beneath the surface.

  “Please what? Kiss you again? Tell me you want me to kiss you again. Tell me you liked it. Please, Kayla.” I was so far gone, nothing else mattered except hearing the words fall from her lips.

  “I shouldn’t, but I did. I wanted it.” Her head tilted up, and our eyes locked.

  Ah, fuck it. I dipped my head, catching her lips with mine. Once again I was rewarded with her delicious taste and couldn’t stop.

  I moved her back until a countertop stopped our progression. Deepening the kiss, I roamed my hands along her neck where her hand had been. The pulse beneath my fingertips beat wild and erratic. Her fingers ran through my hair and down my back causing a shiver.

  “Fuck, Kayla,” I breathed across her cheek. Nipping and nibbling on her neck, I rocked into her. She moaned against my ear and her head fell back giving me access.

  I ran my hand under the hem of her tank top and lifted it over her head. Her eyes were on fire, smoldering with a hot, white heat. I unsnapped her white lace bra, and saw stars when her breasts were there for me to touch. To taste.

  Reaching out, I grabbed the pastry bag and squirted a line across her collarbone and then ran my tongue along it.

  She tugged me closer as my hand dropped the pastry bag and found its way to the chocolate. I trailed a finger down between the swell of her tits and then licked the path clean.

  “Erik,” she panted out, rubbing her pussy against my hard on. I thumbed over her pebbled nipple with chocolate as my mouth followed. When I gently bit down, her hips bucked against me.

  “Did you like that?” I asked.

  “Yes, please don’t stop.” Her fingers dug into my back as I moved over to the other breast.

  Pumping her full breast with the palm of my han
d, closing my fist around her, I wanted more.

  I grabbed the pastry bag again, squirting more whip cream over each nipple. Fuck. My head bent down and I licked around the peak of each nipple before sucking each tit in my starving mouth. She tasted so good. I needed more. Pressing my hard body against hers, she moaned as I continued sucking every bit of whip cream from her silky, smooth skin.

  “Let me cover you in whip cream. I want to eat every part of you.”

  “Yes, oh god.”

  “I’m hungry for you. I need to cover your pussy in cream and lick it off.”

  “Erik, Jesus,” she moaned.

  “You’re breaking me down, Kayla. My mouth is watering to eat you.” I ran my fingers over the waistband of her jeans. I pressed the bag, shooting some whip cream just below her belly button.

  I knelt and sucked the cream from her.

  She moaned louder, and I nibbled on her skin. Grasping the button of her jeans, I pulled it free and yanked at the zipper. I was almost there, and oh how I wanted to be right between her legs. Right there. Spreading her toned legs apart. Sliding my finger under those fucking pink panties. Pink panties that probably accentuated the curve of her round ass just right. Leaving the cheeks of her ass peeking out of them.

  “Let me taste you.”

  She leaned against the counter, both hands gripping the steel tightly. “Erik…”

  I pushed more cream just above the seam of her pink panties and licked it up, dying to get lower. I ran my finger along the seam of her waistband. She groaned, looking down, watching me.

  “I bet you’re wet. Let me eat you. Let me get my tongue so deep inside you. Let me spread you wide open.”

  “Yes,” she said, pushing her hips closer to my face.

  “Do you want to suck whip cream off my cock, Kayla?”

  “Yes.”

  I hooked my fingers in her jeans and pulled them down her long legs.

  She stopped the action before I could go any further. “I think you should go,” she stammered under her breath, sliding her jeans back up. She grabbed her shirt, covering herself with it.

  It took me a minute to stand. The hardness of my cock pressing against the zipper of my jeans was painful. Excruciating. My hand ran through my hair once, and then again. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” I blew out.

  “It’s fine. We both got carried away.” Her smoldering eyes caught the fluorescence of the kitchen light, mesmerizing me.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled again.

  “You like her, don’t you?” she asked, running her hand down her shirt to smooth out any wrinkles.

  “Yeah, I kind of do. But…”

  She cut me off and held up a shaky hand. “Good, that’s all I need to hear. Have a good night.” She led me to the back door and slammed the door in my face.

  I wanted to say more to her. Tell her I kind of liked her too. My mind was all kinds of fucked up, and I wavered for a moment on knocking on the door. I damn near almost did it but then had second thoughts. My mind returned to Belinda, sweet Belinda, the girl I missed when she took too long to reply to a message. I got carried away with her best friend. More than carried away. What was I thinking?

  The next few days would be a good break for me as I traveled to the island of St. Croix.

  As I hopped in my truck, my phone sounded off with the familiar ding of the Cupid site. I swiped on the icon and a message from Belinda appeared.

  Please forgive me.

  I had a bad migraine and couldn’t even see straight.

  I rushed home, took some pills, and fell immediately asleep. I’m sorry I didn’t message sooner. I hope your evening was well.

  I would still love to see you again.

  I felt like shit. I shoved my phone into my pocket and fired up the engine. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get the taste of Kayla’s soft lips out of my mind. Yet, I needed to. Belinda was a nice person and didn’t deserve any of this. She and I weren't serious or exclusive, but I wasn't the type of guy to fuck around with two girls. And the connection I was forming with her through our messages was something I wasn't ready to give up.

  I shoved the thoughts of Kayla deep down and drove home.

  When I walked inside, I pulled my phone from my pocket and began typing.

  I had an interesting night to say the least, but I’d rather not talk about it.

  How are you feeling? Better?

  I leave for the islands tomorrow but would love to see you when I return. You game?

  I tossed the phone onto the couch and moved into the kitchen to grab a drink. Needing a shot of something to wash away the guilt, I rummaged the shelves in search of the bottle of bourbon I’d bought ages ago.

  Finding it, pouring just a tad, and swallowing it down in one gulp, I set the glass down. I couldn’t afford to get wasted with flying tomorrow.

  Absolutely.

  Tell me something nobody knows about you.

  I packed my luggage as I thought about my answer to her.

  Something no one knows. Well, when I was in the military, I was stationed in Afghanistan. I was scared at one point that I would never see my family again. We had a raid on our camp. It was the worst night of my life. I thought I was going to die. What about you? Tell me something.

  I thought back to my time in the service and how I worried about never seeing my loved ones again. Shit like that puts everything in perspective. A message came back immediately.

  Wow, I’m so sorry. I am glad you did.

  Something no one knows, hmm.

  I like to visit the airport. I like to sit and watch the arrivals and how happy everyone is to see their loved ones. It’s a happy place with travelers reconnecting with their families and friends. Sometimes I sit for hours just watching and thinking about my parents, wishing they would arrive so I could see them again.

  I answered her back just as quickly.

  I’m so sorry. I don’t even really know what to say. Losing loved ones is never easy.

  I think your parents would be proud of the great woman you’ve become.

  Can I ask you, do you believe in love at first sight?

  My heart lurched for Belinda, and the weight of guilt for my actions tonight with Kayla crushed me. I was growing closer to Belinda through each message that lit up my phone. I needed to keep my feet at ground level and stay away from Kayla. But, the thought of not seeing Kayla depressed me even more. Those eggs and the time and patience and care it took to make them said a lot about her. My eyes grew heavy as I waited for a message that never came through. I drifted off with visions of sugar powdered treats, sad eyes, and Kayla’s sweet lips on my mind.

  Chapter Six

  The sun streamed through the vertical blinds of my bedroom. I tried to swat it away. The big, neon numbers of the clock read a number I knew had to be wrong. I bolted upright, shit. Eight a.m. If I didn’t get a move on, I’d be late. I showered, dressed, and got ready as quickly as possible.

  I grabbed my phone on the way out the door and flung everything inside my truck.

  When I got to the airfield, I was just in time. Five minutes to spare.

  “Cutting it kind of close, Captain,” Connor chastised as I bolted into the cockpit.

  “Overslept a bit. We ready?”

  “Wouldn’t have anything to do with your hot date, now would it?” He nodded to the clipboard in his hand. “Everything’s all set.”

  I sat down and started the preflight checklist, ready to get off the ground.

  Flying over the great Atlantic Ocean was comforting in the fact I could use the time to get my head on straight and think about my actions with Kayla. She was Belinda’s best friend, and in no way should I have even touched her. But I did.

  Something about her drew me in. Maybe it was the dimple. There was undeniable chemistry between us, no question. But, I needed to get her out of my mind. I needed that kind of chemistry with Belinda. The conversations I had with her made me smile. She had a way of opening me up. The sexual chemistr
y in person would come, wouldn't it?

  “Your girl have a friend?” Connor asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.

  “Yeah, she does.” Not thinking about a hook up situation, or possible double date, I let the words fall from my mouth. He scooped them up faster than the jet we were flying cruised through the wispy white clouds. Once he jumped on the idea of a double date, I wished I’d kept my mouth shut.

  When we left the plane, Connor was still filling my head with his ideas of a double date.

  Problem was, I didn’t want to see Kayla again. She was too tempting, and I wanted to focus on salvaging things with Belinda.

  I fished my phone out of my gray slacks and headed to the cab waiting to take us to the hotel.

  “Tell your girl we could see that new superhero movie that’s playing,” Connor suggested, continuing to torture me as he slid in the back of the cab next to me. “Chicks dig superheroes.”

  Fuck. That might be true, but I wanted to talk to Belinda, find the sexual chemistry that had to be lurking. Not sit silent, side by side, watching Henry Cavill prance around in a cape. He nudged my arm. “Come on, man.”

  “Sure,” I said, giving in. At least this way Kayla and Connor wouldn't be alone in a darkened movie theater.

  What the fuck was my problem? Belinda. Belinda. Belinda. I chanted her name in my head trying to get my thoughts away from Kayla.

  When I reached the hotel room, I kicked off my shoes and grabbed my phone. A message from Belinda was there from the previous night.

  Love at first sight is quite tricky to me. When do you ever truly see someone? What I mean is, I feel you need to get to know someone to truly see them. See them for who they really are. Appearances don't tell you anything.

  Maybe life throws people in your life for certain reasons.

 

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