by Lacey Black
Blake laughs on his end of the phone. His voice has this deep, sexy timber to it. From the first moment I heard him speak to his brother that night at the bar, I’ve been drawn to the sound of his voice. Like a lighthouse alerting boats of the position of the shore, his voice is a beacon that I just can’t miss. Nor get enough of. “Tell her that Daddy will see her later tonight.”
Every time he says something like that, my heart leaps and does a swan dive. It’s a beautiful feeling, knowing that he’s already in love with his daughter. It’s something I never expected of him or of anyone for that matter. Since he walked back into my life, and subsequently Natalia’s life, he has done nothing but leave imprints on our hearts. Natalia is head over heels in love with him, and I don’t doubt for one minute that I’m heading in that direction myself. Spending the night with him and waking in his arms has been like a dream. A dream that started two years ago and is finally coming true.
The sound of a man speaking in the background pulls me out of my daydream. “Babe, I gotta go to work. They’re needing my help with something.”
“Okay. I’ll see you tonight,” I tell him.
“Six o’clock. Your mom is picking up Nat around two,” he says, the noise in the background increasing considerably.
“You arranged for my mom?” I ask him, dumbfounded that he already thought of and planned for my mom to take care for Natalia.
“Yeah, she’s coming over and grabbing her around two so you can get ready.”
“Okay. Thank you, Blake.” I don’t even care that Natalia has unfolded every single piece of clothing at this point. My mind is blown that he has planned this all out so meticulously. I’ve never had someone just take the initiative to help me with Natalia. Well, except Mom. But that doesn’t really count, does it?
“See ya tonight. Oh, and wear something sexy,” he adds, that voice dropping lower as if he’s telling some big secret. We sign off quickly, though I don’t bring the phone down from my ear for several minutes. I’m too consumed with shock that he arranged a babysitter without my help or direction. A girl could definitely get used to this.
At five ‘til six, my buzzer sounds, signaling Blake’s arrival. I buzz him up quickly, pacing back and forth anxiously between the living room and the kitchen. I chose a knee-length black wrap dress with a plunging neckline that reveals a little more cleavage than I’m used to. I paired it with a great pair of red Christian Louboutin pumps and matching lip-gloss. My hair is down, cascading in large, soft curls down my back; just the way Blake likes it.
When I open the door, he’s standing there in a pair of pressed black slacks and an ice blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the middle of his forearms. He shaved beforehand, which I’ve learned, isn’t an everyday occurrence. Blake is more of a “shave every few days” kind of guy, and the look is delicious on him. But Blake with a clean shave makes him just as much, if not more handsome. My lady parts quiver at the sight of him. But when he steps inside and I catch my first whiff of his cologne? Like female catnip, his scent drives me insanely wild with lust. I want to climb him like a tree.
Blake’s knowing smile is full of mischief as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. I’m sure I’m panting like a dog though, so it probably wasn’t very hard for him to narrow down the reason why. “You look amazing,” he says as he steps forward and pulls me into his arms. His kiss isn’t gentle as he nips and licks at my lips. “You taste amazing, too.”
“Cherry lip-gloss,” I tell him as I wind my arms around his neck and thread my fingers into his short hair. His body is hard against my much softer one. Even through his dress shirt, I can feel ripped muscles, steel abs, and glorious pecs. He is perfection in a designer shirt and a tattoo.
“You’re gonna have to put more on in a few minutes. This layer is going to be smeared all over my face when I’m done with you,” he says just before devouring my lips once again. His kiss is hungry and full of passion. My legs practically give out as he consumes my lips, my mouth, and my soul.
When Blake reluctantly pulls away, we’re both left breathless and wanting. I suddenly wouldn’t care if we forego this entire evening and stayed naked in bed all night after ordering Chinese food. “We need to go,” he says before placing one last lingering kiss on my swollen lips.
“We could just stay here,” I remind him, running my hands down his hard back.
“Not tonight. I have plans for us, babe,” he says as he pulls back. He takes several moments to adjust himself, trying to will his impressive hard-on to ebb.
“I can think of something that would help you with your little problem,” I offer boldly, running my finger down the zipper of his pants. His cock jerks beneath my touch, and I know that it would only take a few more strokes before he’d be fully on-board with my “Forget The Date” plan.
“Not gonna happen,” he says and pulls back completely. “I’m taking you out on a proper date tonight. If you’re lucky, I’ll give you a peck on the cheek before I walk you to your doorstep later this evening,” he says, those green eyes dark and needy.
“What?” I ask, shocked at the thought of the unexpected ending to our evening. That’s not exactly something to look forward to.
Blake chuckles while he grabs my wrap from the counter. “Just kidding,” he says as he wraps me in the soft cashmere. “Don’t worry, Carly. I’m planning on fucking you tonight until the only thing you’ll remember is the sound of my name on your lips and the feel of my body inside of yours,” he whispers before running his tongue along the shell of my ear. My knees practically give out, sending me spilling to the floor in a big pile of hormonal goo.
Blake steers me towards the door, which is great considering I lost all sense of direction a few moments ago. With his hand firmly wrapped around mine, he leads me towards the elevator and down to the bottom floor. His old Camaro is parked in the lot, and he’s ever the gentleman as he helps me into the passenger seat. The inside of his car is exactly how I had pictured it; clean, organized, meticulous. Everything has its place.
“Ready?” he asks as he backs out of the parking spot.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“We’re having dinner at Prime Steakhouse inside of the Bellagio and then we’re going to watch the fountains,” he says casually, his forearm flexing underneath his shirtsleeve as he turns the wheel.
“The fountains?” I ask curiously.
Blake gives me a sheepish grin. “When I was younger–like in my early teens–I always thought it’d be cool to take a date to see the fountains. I don’t know why, really.” Blake appears to be in thought for several moments. “I guess when you grow up here, you take some of those little things for granted. Like the fountain. So, I’m fulfilling a teenage dream I had about taking a date there,” he says with a small smile.
“I think it’s sweet,” I tell him, squeezing his hand on the steering wheel.
“Oh, don’t go thinking I’m too sweet, baby. What’s going to happen later tonight when we get home is fulfilling my other teenage dream,” he says with an ornery grin that makes my panties wet and my heartbeat skyrocket. “And there’s nothing sweet about it.”
“Do I want to know?” I ask breathlessly.
“I’m planning to just show you,” he says while bringing my hand up to his mouth. The kisses he places on my knuckles are open-mouthed, and each time he scrapes his teeth along my flesh, he stokes the fire inside of me just a little bit hotter.
We chat about my work the entire ride to the Bellagio. One thing I’ve noticed about Blake, he never voluntarily offers information about his life and his work. I always have to ask for a morsel of detail. He answers me the best he can, but it’s obvious he’s holding something back. I try not to stew about it or let it bother me too much because I told him that I trusted him. Yet, that still doesn’t settle the churning deep in my stomach.
Arriving at the Bellagio, I take in the ornate, towering building. It’s so easy for someone who has lived here their
entire life to overlook some of the beautiful features that make Vegas what it is. From the sprawling buildings to the amazing architecture, bright lights and wall-to-wall people from all walks of life, Las Vegas truly is a magnificent city.
The valet opens my door, while Blake tips the man taking the car. He slides up alongside me, his scent wrapping around me like a pair of designer jeans. I place my hand through his proffered arm, and we walk together into the hotel. It doesn’t take us long to find the restaurant. After giving his name to the hostess, we’re quickly ushered toward a prime table location along the wall of windows. We can see the fountain in all its glory from here. It’s a truly stunning first date.
“Can I get you a drink?” the waiter asks as he places glasses of water on the table.
“I’ll have an apple martini, please,” I tell him, deciding to try the drink I don’t get very often.
“I’ll have whiskey, neat,” Blake tells the young man who hurries off to gather our drinks.
“Whiskey?” I ask, raising one eyebrow up towards my hairline.
“It seems like a whiskey kind of night. One drink, though. That’s all I’m having. I want to make sure we’re able to get home safely so I can fuck you senseless,” he says so openly and honestly. My eyes widen, but not from shock. From desire. The heat and promise in his statement lets me know that he plans exactly that tonight.
Not able to formulate words for a reply, I glance down at the menu the waiter left at my place setting. A few minutes later, he returns with our ordered drinks and sets out to share their specials for the evening. Blake and I each opt for the prime rib, baked potato, and green beans. We even order our steak the same – medium. It’s just one more thing I mentally note that Blake and I have in common. It’s just one more reason to finally let go and give my heart to someone. Lord knows I have more feelings for this man than I’ve ever had for anyone else before him.
One thing I’ve noticed about Blake is that he wants to know everything he can about Natalia. As we’re chatting about her, my cell phone rings in my clutch. Afraid that it’s my mother, I dig it out quickly and glance at the number.
“Who is it?” Blake asks, concerned as much as I am that something is wrong with Natalia.
“I’m not sure. It’s not a number in my contacts.”
“Answer it. It could be about Nat or your mom,” he says, his voice laced with concern.
“Hello?” I say into the cell phone.
“Hi, is this Carly?” the male voice on the other end of the line asks.
“Yes it is. Who is speaking?” I ask politely.
“This is Bill. From church,” he says and my heart stops beating. No way is this happening. I’m on a date with one man and another with whom I gave my number to is calling me. Awesome.
“Oh, Bill. Hi. Look, this isn’t a good time,” I start, not able to meet Blake’s eyes. I feel them boring into my skin, slicing me open with each hard gaze.
“I’m sorry. I can call back another time.”
“That would be great,” I start but instantly feel guilty. “You know what? Hold on a minute,” I tell Bill before looking up at Blake. Placing my hand over the phone, I say, “I need to step into the hall for a moment. Will you excuse me?” I ask, not quite sure how I’m able to breathe at this point. Panic. That’s what I’m about to do.
“Sure. Is everything alright?” he asks, those emerald eyes full of concern, which just makes me feel sicker.
Unable to answer, I give him a head nod. Once in the somewhat privacy of the hallway, I put the phone back up to my ear. “Sorry about that. I don’t want to be rude, Bill. You’re a very nice man, but I don’t think it would be wise to call me for that cup of coffee. I’ve started to see someone, and it wouldn’t be fair to you or to him if I were to meet you,” I tell him honestly.
“I see. Well, I can’t say that I’m not disappointed, but I appreciate your honesty. If it doesn’t work out with that guy, I’d still like to grab coffee sometime.”
“Thank you for understanding,” I tell him, feeling relieved on so many levels.
“Take care, Carly.”
“Thank you. You too, Bill,” I say just before signing off. I pull my phone down from my ear and close my eyes, taking several deep, calming breaths.
“Who’s Bill?” I hear from behind me, knowing that voice like I know my own. I slowly turn around and see Blake, his face trying to convey a message of calm, but failing miserably.
“He’s someone I met at church. He was inviting me to have coffee with him,” I tell him, not moving from my position in the hallway.
“Like a date?” he asks tersely.
My only answer is a head nod. “I turned him down,” I throw out there quickly. For several heartbeats, we continue to stand there and stare at each. Blake gives nothing away for several moments, which causes my anxiety to skyrocket that much more.
“You did?” he asks finally, relief evident on his too-handsome face.
“Yeah,” I mumble as I take a small step towards him.
“Why?” he asks, crossing those big arms at his chest.
“Because I’m already seeing someone. Maybe not officially, but it feels like it to me, and I don’t want to see anyone else,” I answer.
His face is a mask, void of any emotion for several seconds, before I see the lines around his eyes relax. Blake’s large hand reaches out and snags me around the wrist, pulling me against his chest. “It is official. I don’t want anyone else, and I sure as fuck don’t want you dating anyone else either. I’d have to kill him and bury his body in the desert,” he says hoarsely. Besides the fact that he threatened to murder someone, the point that Blake acknowledges me as something more than a fling makes my heart sing.
“And prison life wouldn’t look good on you,” I tell him with a smile. His lips are urgent and hard as he kisses me square on the mouth.
Before he can let it progress towards the direction we both want it to go, he pulls back. “More of that later. Our salads had just arrived when I stepped out to look for you.”
Walking back, hand in hand, we make it to our table and properly dive into the salads left at our seats. Blake opens up and shares a few more stories about his childhood, which are few and far between. Growing up without a father, I find myself latching on to any shred of normalcy when it comes to families. You know, father, mother, two kids, a dog or a cat, and a white picket fence? The American dream. At least, that was what everyone has always said was the American dream. I soaked up every ounce of love my mother offered me, but that still doesn’t mean I didn’t yearn for that one thing she couldn’t give me. Or, should I say, the one person.
After dinner, we make our way outside to the fence surrounding the majestic fountains. We have about three minutes before the next display, so Blake wraps his strong arms around my shoulders, snuggling me in close to keep me as warm as possible from the cooler, late October night. Several times, I hear his quick intake of breath, like he’s inhaling me. In fact, he’s done it several times over the past couple of weeks. I’m pretty sure he even did it that night we met two years ago. Like he’s sucking in my scent, committing it to memory.
When it’s almost show time, Blake turns me around and pulls me in tight, his front to my back. His hands reach down, each taking one of mine. His skin is warm and coarse from hours of working with his hands, yet so soothing and comforting. He bends down slightly and places his chin on my right shoulder. I feel his breath against my ear, sending my blood pounding through my veins. He’s so close, yet still so far away because there are way too many clothes between us.
As the fountain show starts, we both stand perfectly still; eyes wide open as we gaze at the beautiful sight. The music is loud as each fountain shoots up in rhythm. After several moments, Blake turns his head and nuzzles his nose along my neck. “God, you smell so fucking good,” he whispers moments before his lips part and his tongue traces a line from my earlobe to my collarbone. Shivers of anticipation and delight race th
rough my body. “Are you cold?” he whispers against my skin.
“No,” I mumble, lost in the feel of his mouth.
“Does this turn you on?” he asks between swipes of that dangerous tongue.
“Yes,” I whisper, swaying on my feet. Blake clutches my body firmly against his making sure I don’t go anywhere.
“I can see the lights and the water reflecting off of your hair. It’s the sexiest fucking thing ever. It reminds me of the shower. And sex. And now all I want to do is take you home so I can fuck you in the shower.” His voice is firm and full of desire.
“Okay,” I say–or at least, I think I say. My mind is mashed potatoes and unable to process a single thought, so my one-word answer may have come out just a noise.
“Are you done watching the fountains?” he asks as he pushes my hair over my left shoulder, revealing the long column of the back of my neck. Blake places open-mouthed sensual kisses over my skin, sending goose bumps racing to the top of my flesh.
“Yes,” I tell him, wishing that we were suddenly already at home.
Blake takes my hand and pulls me towards the valet. My much shorter legs struggle to keep up with his long, graceful strides as he strolls with great purpose towards the man who will deliver our car. “Blake, my legs aren’t as long as yours,” I tell him as I practically run in designer heels to keep up.
Suddenly, he stops and turns around. I’m not prepared for his halt and slam into him. His hands grab the sides of my face as his mouth descends and his tongue plunges. He tastes like spices and alcohol, and another flavor that I can only associate with Blake. I give in to him completely. I let him lead, and I willingly follow. My hands grip and pull at his clothes, seeking any contact with his warm flesh that they can find. Blake’s hands are everywhere: my hair, my face, my back. Everywhere but where I really want them to be right now.
Several clearing throats around us pull me from my lust-induced fog. Blake seems reluctant to release his grip on my lips, but must realize that we’re standing in the middle of a tourist crowd. While most people are busy watching the rest of the water show, a handful is watching the start of the porno on the sidewalk. I just pray I don’t end up on YouTube.