Three Blind Dates (Dating by Numbers Series Book 1)

by Meghan Quinn

  “Is has to be.” I take another scoop from the carton Beck is holding. “Thank you for tonight, Beck.”

  “Anytime, Sassy. I’m glad you decided to go on a second date with me. It’s been fun. And hey, the view isn’t so bad either.” He eyes me up and down.

  “Oh please, is that the best you’ve got? A lame line and a once-over? You know, I expect more from you, rebel.”

  “I’m a little out of practice, but you can’t hold that against me.”

  Setting my spoon to the side and crossing my legs, I ask, “Am I the first woman you’ve dated since your divorce?”

  “Dated, yes. Other things . . . no.”

  “Other things?” I pause and then my mouth forms a knowing O. “Ohh, like sex.”

  “Yes, like sex.” He laughs.

  “So why start dating now?”

  Setting the ice cream to the side, he brushes his hands on his pants and leans back on the lounge chair, his hands propping him up. “Not sure, really. My buddy thought I should try out the program, so I did.”

  “Well, that’s convincing.” Not. “Do you think you’ll ever get married again?”

  “You know, we don’t have to talk about this right now.” Moving forward, Beck leans over me and in one swift movement, he unlatches the back of the lounge and lays me down flat, crawling over my body until his weight is on top of me, making me feel warm and cozy.

  I straighten out my legs, which settles his non-underwear-covered crotch right against mine. Am I really going to do this? Is he really going to do this? He hasn’t been subtle about his intentions, but is he all talk? Or is he without a doubt all action?

  From the way he’s looking at me, pure sex dripping from him, I’m going to guess he’s action and that makes me nervous. Not because I don’t want him. Hell, I would be insane to not want him. But what makes me nervous is that I’ve never really done this before . . . launched so quickly into a sexual relationship with someone before an emotional one.

  “Why the creased brow, Sassy?” His eyes bounce back and forth between mine.

  “Nothing.” I shake my head, trying to rid the constant questioning in my head. You have a hot guy on top of you who wants you, Noely. Enjoy the experience.

  “Are you sure? Because you look worried. Are you nervous?”

  “I’m not worried.” Beck’s thumb starts to stroke my cheek, easing my nerves. “Just a little . . . shy, I guess.”

  “Shy?” His head pulls back and he gives me another once-over. “You, shy? The girl who showed up to our first date in a dress no bigger than a handkerchief.”

  Sighing, I say, “That was a different outfit for me than my usual.”

  “And what about tonight?” His fingers graze along my side to the exposed skin of my crop top. A sizzling sensation bundles up in the pit of my stomach from that little touch, from the way he’s looking at me with those sinister eyes. “This outfit, including what’s underneath, doesn’t say shy to me.”

  He’s right, it doesn’t, but maybe what it comes down to is this: I might be a tease with no follow-through. At least that’s what it’s feeling like right now. But is that really who I am or have I been burnt before, enough to not trust that I’m the girl who gets to keep the guy?

  “Tell me, Noely, what would you like to do tonight?”

  “Uh, what do you mean?” I wiggle under him, my G-string becoming wetter by the second with each pass of his fingers under the waistband of my high-waisted pants.

  “You know exactly what I mean.” His fingers play with the button of my pants and when he undoes them, I’m impressed. He did that with one freaking hand. And then he pulls down the zipper of my pants . . .

  His hand slides inside, and slowly, he starts to bring the waistband of my pants down until they’re resting at my hip. He spans his hand across my exposed stomach, his thumb stroking the skin below my belly button, igniting every nerve ending in my body.

  “If you want me to stop, tell me, right now . . .”

  “Stop,” I answer, causing him to push up to look me directly in the eyes. Confused, he’s about to say something when I cover his mouth with my hand. “Not out here, not where my neighbors can hear.” His face morphs into something brazen and without saying a word, he scoops me into his arms and walks me into my house. “Down the hall, to the right,” I say, knowing exactly what he’s looking for.

  When he tosses me on my bed and stands before me, his eyes pinned to mine, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, I wonder if this is really happening, if I’m about to go to bed with a man I’ve only hung out with one other time. Granted, we did do the humping, but this is different. This is entirely different than a little dry rubbing.

  I bite my bottom lip, feeling my nerves start to blossom again, and Beck notices. His hands are still on his shirt. All the buttons are undone, exposing his tanned and toned skin. And look at those abs. Holy hell.

  “What’s wrong, Noely?”

  Propping myself on my elbows, I take a quick peek at the little patch of hair leading below Beck’s waistline and then move my gaze to his eyes where there is deep concern. Wanting to be truthful, I say, “I’m just nervous. You’re, you know, this hot alpha-type rebel who can sear my panties off with one look. I’ve never done anything like this so soon, and it makes me nervous.”

  “But you want this?”

  I nod. “I do.”

  I think I do, I mean I do. I really do, but then again, I have so many questions, like why did he get a divorce? Why did it take eight years? Why did he refrain from telling me what he did until tonight? Why are there so many secrets?

  Is Beck someone I can see myself with for the long haul?

  Shirt off now, his chest ripples as he lowers himself to my body and pulls on the waist of my pants until they’re completely off. Tossing them to the floor, he keeps his eyes trained on what he just exposed: my lacey black G-string.

  “Hot,” he mumbles, moving his hands to my crop top, his fingers trailing a path of heat along with them. My skin prickles from his touch, my body reacting to every move he makes, while my head questions every little touch and sound. “Lift your arms, Sassy.” Since my body and brain are currently not connected, my arms lift on their own accord, and in one swift movement, Beck has my black see-through bra exposed, my nipples poking against the fabric, looking for release.

  Lowering his head, his lips hum against mine briefly before they glide to my collarbone, nipping and sucking, making their way to my bra. Through the fabric, his hot breath hovers above my nipple right before he grips my breast with one of his strong hands and brings it to his mouth. My chest rises from the bed, my eyes wide with shock, and my breath comes in erratic pants. His teeth graze my nipple and a lone cry escapes past my lips.

  “So fucking responsive,” he says before moving to my other breast, giving it the same treatment. My mind is now a fog, all inhibition thrown out the window as I allow myself to get lost in the moment, to lie back and enjoy rather than worry where this is going to take me.

  Beck kisses his way back to my mouth and lifts me off the bed to a standing position. Unsure of his next move, I wait, my hands twining around his hair as he reaches behind me and undoes my bra. The cool night air puckers my nipples and my nerves are heightened with each pass Beck makes of his hands down my back until they reach my G-string. His hands slip under the waistband and grip my ass, pulling me into his pelvis where I deliciously feel his erection knocking at the zipper of his jeans.

  His lips press against the spot where my neck meets my shoulder and he sucks, he sucks hard, nibbling at the same time. All I can think about—other than how good that feels—is: I hope he doesn’t leave a mark, or else Natasha is going to have a hell of a time in makeup.

  “Lie down, Noely.” The way his commanding voice directs me has my hands shaking in anticipation. It’s been so long since a man has brought me such ecstasy.

  When I’m splayed across the bed, I feel exposed, but sexy at the same time. It’s the look in Beck’
s eyes as he runs his hand over his jaw, taking me all in.

  “Beautiful.” Bending at the foot of the bed, he grips the sides of my G-string and pulls it down, leaving me utterly naked. Not wasting any time, Beck yanks on my legs and hangs them over his shoulders so my heated center is right at his mouth.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” I stammer.

  “This,” he answers right before he parts me and presses his tongue against my clit.

  “Ohhh . . . God,” I breathe out heavily as my body melts, molding to the mattress.

  “Fuck, I knew you would taste good. So sweet, so addicting.” His hands press on my inner thighs, his thumbs delicately spreading me open to him while his tongue makes long, languid strokes.

  It’s never been like this before. Ever. My body so aware, so on fire, ready to explode at any second. I’ve never had a man so invested in my pleasure before, so focused on me. It’s always been about the act of sex, the end goal, the grand finale, but with Beck, it feels different. Is this what Dylan has been talking about all along?

  This feeling, this all-consuming sense of euphoria with a man, a man who wants nothing more than to pleasure you? How have I never experienced this before?

  I’m having a sexual awakening. This is what sex can be. This is what it should be.

  I thread my fingers through his hair, my hips moving with each swipe of his tongue against my slit.

  “Yes,” I moan, the sound foreign to my ears. “Yes, Beck.”

  At the mention of his name, he presses his tongue harder and a wave of pleasure rockets through me, up and down my spine. Moving his entire mouth against my slit, his scruff rubs against my inner thighs. One of his hands grips my ass tightly, the other presses down on my stomach, keeping me in place. My clit starts to throb, the sensation rocking my body closer and closer to the precipice, as if each thrum climbs me higher and higher.

  “Oh God, oh God, Beck.”

  His mouth lifts and he asks, “Are you going to come, Sassy?”

  I nod, my eyes closed, my lips pressed together, my body floating, throbbing, waiting . . .

  As if he’s studying me, he takes his time lowering his head to my pussy, and when he does, he lightly blows on my arousal, causing my hips to buck right into his mouth where he devours my clit, sucking on it so hard I think I’m going to shoot off the bed.

  Climbing and climbing and climbing, my heart racing a mile a minute, my legs numbing, my vision going black, my mind going blank . . . and then it hits me. My senses leap and my orgasm takes over, throwing my body into a pit of orgasmic bliss. I convulse, hips thrusting against Beck’s tongue, greedy, riding out my orgasm until I can’t take it anymore, until the pleasure is too much and I’m on the verge of tears.

  Laying my arm over my eyes, I breathe out a heavy sigh and say, “Oh my God, Beck.”

  “Feel good?”

  “So good.” He kisses his way up my body, his fingers playing with my nipples, bringing me back to life and into the present. When I open my eyes, I see him hovering over me, the look of absolute joy spread across his face, as if he just accomplished one of his biggest goals.

  I take a second to look him over, to take him in from his chestnut-brown hair, to his delicious scruff that graces his strong jaw, to his soft pliable lips, and all the way to his masculine and built chest. The way his jeans hang low on his hips, hinting at the lack of underwear underneath, makes my mouth water and pulls me out of my fog.

  Lifting up, I reach for his jeans and pull him in closer. I undo the button, and I’m instantly fascinated by the way his abs flex from my initial touch. Wanting to see how else I can make this man react, I pull down the zipper, and then loop my hands inside his waistband and push his jeans down.

  When I lift back up, I’m greeted by his erection. Wait, let me rephrase that. I’m greeted by his thick, pulsing erection. While I stare, Beck makes quick work of his shoes, socks, and pants and pushes me back onto the bed, his body hovering over mine, his erection hard and wet with pre-cum.

  Oh God . . .

  I press my hand against his chest and urge him to lie down. Taking direction well, even though he seems to be the one in charge, he lies across my bed, his head resting on my pillows, a smirk playing on his lips.

  Smugly, but with a sexy confidence, Beck laces his hands behind his head and awaits my next move. There is something about the way Beck has given me the rights to his body—his confidence in my abilities—that has me moving on top of him, my hands grazing his thighs until they meet his erection. Settling into position, I grip his length and start to stroke leisurely, getting a feel for him. God, he feels so good. Beck relaxes into the mattress and watches me, his eyes heavy with lust . . . lust for me.

  Keeping my gaze trained on the rise and fall of Beck’s delectable abs, I lower my head while my hand strokes him and press my tongue along his stomach, licking each divot. Let it be known that I’m quite partial to what he has to offer.

  “Fuck, you’re making me so goddamn hard.”

  My hair falls over my face like a waterfall, hiding the blush caressing my cheeks from his confession. I use the curtain to my advantage and run the soft strands along his skin, sending goosebumps up and down his legs. Gripping him a little tighter, I bring my hand to the top of his dick and squeeze hard before releasing and going back down. I repeat the process over and over until Beck’s composure is slipping.

  Reading his cues, I squeeze my hand at the top again at the same time that I bring my mouth to his tip, licking it very lightly.

  “Fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut, his response everything I could have hoped for, so I repeat the action.

  Grip, lick, grip, lick.

  Fascinated, I watch Beck grip the comforter beneath him, his knuckles turning white, his hands straining for control.

  Needing more, wanting to see how far I can push him, I bring my lips to the tip of his cock and then suck him in while my hand squeezes his root.

  I work him. Sucking hard, my mouth moving along the head of his cock, my tongue dragging along. With my free hand, I reach between his legs and grip his balls, lightly fondling them. Together, I work my hands and my mouth careening him to the edge of no return.

  Beneath me he stiffens. His skin glistens with sweat, his grunts turn me on, and the strain in his neck, in his pecs—in every corded muscles running up and down his body—tells me he’s on the edge, teetering, ready to fall over.

  “I’m going to come, Sass. Pull away.”

  I don’t.

  Instead, I suck harder, I squeeze harder, and I flick my tongue on the underside of the head.

  “Fuck,” he roars as he comes, his breathing heavy, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

  Pulling away, I watch as he falls and floats, the same reaction I had what seems like only minutes ago.

  “Christ, Noely.” He breaths a heavy sigh. “Get up here.” Pulling on my hand, he brings me to his chest and snuggles me close. “Get in here, pretty girl.” Nudging the comforter out from under us, he drapes the blanket over our bodies and wraps his arm around me. I rest my head on his shoulder as my hand goes to his chest. It feels oddly comforting to be held like this. I’ve always loved cuddling. I just never thought I’d be cuddling this early on. Never thought my rebel would be my cuddler.

  We lie in silence for a few moments. Is he going to say something? Is he spending the night? Do I offer him a drink and a high five? Yay, orgasms!

  I’m about to ask Beck if he really does want a drink but he interrupts the battle in my head. “Hope you don’t mind me spending the night; you wore me out.” Kissing the top of my head, he pulls me in a little closer and holds on tight. Feels so good, if not unusual and unexpected.

  I guess that answered my questions.

  Chapter Twenty

  NOELY

  A low groan vibrates in my ear, waking me to the bright sunlight filtering through my window. In a bit of a haze, I shift on my bed and still when my hand comes in contact with another body. A warm bod
y.

  Beck.

  God, last night . . .

  Slipping out from under the covers, from the warm little cocoon we created, I snag the robe on the back of my door, wrap it around my body, and tiptoe out of my bedroom to the kitchen where coffee is already brewing. Thank you, automatic timer. I pour myself a cup and head to my back deck where all the debauchery started last night.

  Not bothering to sit up the lounge chair from last night, I take a seat in the other lounge, bring my knees to my chest, and sip my coffee while looking over the crashing waves of the ocean.

  Last night was . . . Ugh, last night was eye-opening.

  It isn’t because I was with Beck, a domineering, sexy rebel, but it’s because I realize now, at the age of twenty-seven, that sex can be fun—well, oral sex for that matter. It’s never been like that. I’ve never felt so alive in the bedroom.

  Yes, I’ve had an orgasm before, but nothing that’s taken over my body like last night. Nothing that had every nerve ending in my body standing on end begging for more.

  From the very beginning with Beck, it’s been physical. From the way he first devoured me with one look, to the little touches here and there, to our dancing, our first kiss and dry-humping, to last night. I simply couldn’t take my hands off him.

  He’s showed me that men can be addicting, that the act of physically being with someone can be addicting, and to be honest, that scares me, because I want so much more than the physical.

  “There you are.” Beck’s morning voice is deep, rumbly with a hint of scratch to it. Taking a seat in front of me, exactly like last night, he holds out his hand for my coffee, and I hand it to him.

  While he sips, I take him in. His hair is disheveled, giving him boyish charm. His scruff is thicker, darker, and his exposed chest is looking mighty fine as well as the unbuttoned jeans covering his legs. How is it possible for someone to wake up looking that attractive?

  Five bucks says I look like Medusa right now.

  Feeling slightly self-conscious, I pat down my hair when Beck is looking out to the ocean. When he turns back to me, he hands me my coffee cup.