Love at Blind Date Complete Series: Books 1-4

by Lorelei M. Hart

  “Wow! Can’t believe I, the original geeky teen, just saved the football jock from being run over.”

  “Things have changed,” I muttered. It was all his fault, dazzling me with his scent, gorgeous smile, and kindness. I nibbled my lower lip hoping he wouldn’t hear my teeth chattering.

  But though my extremities were cold and my heart had had a shock, a blistering heat surged through me, and I had a sudden urge to lick Dean all over. From top to toe, leaving him begging for more as I left his cock until last. I’d lick the tip like an ice cream, before wrapping my lips around him and grazing my teeth over the shaft.

  “Delicious,” he mumbled as he eyed the cocoa.

  “Words can’t describe it,” I burbled as the vision of me giving Dean a blow job faded. Come back!

  He was staring at passersby holding hot cocoa with marshmallows. “It’s amazing how something so simple can be absolute perfection.”

  “Mmmm.” I was also thinking about perfection, but my mind wasn’t on the cocoa but on the alpha beside me.

  “You okay?”

  My ass was numb, as were my toes and the tip of my nose. But my insides were warm and toasty as the rest of the world passed us by. Couples snuggled into one another as they made their way home or to meet friends at one of the many bars in the neighborhood.

  I dated occasionally and was content with my own company and that of my small circle of friends, but after tonight I was aware of something missing. But I didn’t want companionship and love to fill a gaping hole inside me. I wasn’t stupid enough to think a relationship would do that.

  And while I had issues and was as fucked up as most of the population, I hadn’t been searching for something. Unlike Richard. But the magnetic pull of Dean’s body was irresistible. Though I’d been hallucinating about sex, I didn’t just want a fuck-buddy. I wanted more.

  9

  Dean

  The snow tickled my nose. I’d been so ill prepared for the weather, not guessing for a second I'd take a trip farther than to my car, but as the evening rolled to an end, I simply wasn’t ready. So when Jesse suggested we go for a walk, there was not a chance on the planet I was going to turn that one down.

  The city held a certain kind of beauty this time of year. It wasn’t all Christmas lights and wonder like a couple of months earlier, but still there was magic in the air, in the snowflakes.

  We were far from the only people walking around. It was Valentine’s Day, after all. People wandered in and out of bars and clubs, all of which would be open for hours still. There was laughter from friends’ night outs where people dressed as Un-Valentine’s as they could, including one group who wore matching Not My Valentine shirts complete with arrows pointing to both their left and their right.

  And the couples—so many couples; from those standing close to each other as they headed to their destination, not quite touching, all the way to those you wanted to direct to the nearest room. I was no prude, not by any definition, but I also understood the very real possibility of frostbite in this weather and didn’t think anyone wanted to lose one of their balls to the cold.

  “I love how we live someplace where we can do this,” I said as we closed the distance to the food cart. “When we were kids, everything in town would be closed up by now and everyone would be home and sound asleep.”

  “Not the teens.” No, not the teens, at least not the ones he hung around. My friends or peers, anyway, weren’t into that or weren’t invited or possibly both. That part of youth got blended with what you remembered as fact and what you felt, and let’s face it, hormones distorted a ton of what we saw around us.

  “You never came, though, except that once.” We stopped in front of the sandwich sign. It was filled with all kinds of fancy cocoas and a few coffees that sounded more cocoa than coffee.

  “Yeah,” I remembered that. There was a huge bonfire, and after we left the library from a marathon math prep thanks to an upcoming midterm, he’d mentioned it. That wasn’t what made me brave enough to go. No, we passed one of his football friends, and Jesse had said something to the effect of ‘see ya tonight,’ and delusional barely 18-year-old me pretended he was talking to me and I showed up, stood mostly alone, then left well before the first beer was cracked.

  “You didn’t stay. I thought you would, but you didn’t. I even brought marshmallows.” His head fell on my shoulder.

  “I didn’t feel like I belonged,” I confessed. “High school was so bullshit, wasn’t it?”

  “I’d like to tell you things changed, but it’s pretty much the same stuff with different names.” He pointed to the sign, effectively changing the conversation which worked for me. Drawing attention to who I was back then wasn’t on my list of things to say when trying to woo an omega, and there was no hiding it, that was definitely what I was trying to do. “Whatcha think?”

  “The toasted marshmallow one?”

  “Yeah. It says they torch it so it will be gooey and yum.” He tugged me closer to the window where a small line had formed. “It is dark chocolate too—is that still your favorite?”

  “You remembered.” Not that I remembered talking about it specifically, but if I had chocolate, it had always been dark, the texture of the milk chocolate just didn’t do it for me.

  “I remember a lot.”

  “Like?”

  “Like how you played first chair but never acted like Greg Kawalski all puffed out and self-important when he got first chair cello and how you always got A’s but never fist-bumped your neighbor about it, making them feel badly if they didn’t achieve similar scores and how you always asked how my grandfather was because one time I told you he had emphysema. Yeah, I remember.”

  He saw me so differently than I did back then. To hear him talk about me, I was the catch of the century instead of the awkward dork who was good at math and bad at sports.

  “I remember you too.” I wanted to tell him the little things that had always stuck with me, from the pride I had when he aced his math test or how sweet it was the time he stayed after and cleaned up the April Fool’s Day gone-wrong prank in the art room, one that he didn’t even take a class in, and how he always gave half his lunch to Sven without drawing attention to it by any means knowing that Sven’s single father had lost his job due to illness. No, I remembered him too, and not just the sexy smirk he graced me with from time to time or the way his ass looked in his jeans. I remembered the little things, the things that made him him.

  We ordered our cocoa and watched with childlike delight as they torched it to golden brown, and decided to walk toward the river with it, sipping it slowly, allowing the chocolatey goodness to warm us from the inside as we made comments about the way the river froze unevenly and pondering out loud if it would freeze over completely this year. It was nice. Comfortable. Perfect.

  “You have marshmallow on your lip.” Jesse reached over and pointed to my mouth and my hand shot up with embarrassment, trying to wipe it clean, and from the way he kept directing mid-wipe, failing miserably.

  “Remember that time in the library when we bumped heads after talking about that stupid report Mr. Higgins assigned us?” I asked, the memory flooding back into me. I had leaned in to kiss him without realizing what a chicken I was and reversed tracks so quickly I bonked him in the head and the librarian had to hush us. There was no forgetting a kiss fail that epic in proportion.

  He nodded.

  “I thought you were going to kiss me. And for the record, I would have let you.” He stepped in close. “Was I imagining it?”

  “You weren’t.” And before I formed any words to explain further, he closed the distance between us and kissed me so gently, so sweetly, so perfectly that all I wanted to do was bottle it up for later.

  And like the king of suave, the first thing out of my lips was, “Wow.”

  10

  Jesse

  It happened. I couldn’t take it in. His lips on mine. So soft, warm and pliable and oh so yummy. There was chocolate and su
gar which I savored as well as his own taste of something rich and spicy. My knees buckled, and I leaned against him as he hugged me close.

  When we finally pulled away, the world around us didn’t exist. It was a blur of whiteness, people hurrying and murmurs about love and the cold and what would tomorrow bring. I focused on Dean’s face. Now that the moment I’d been fantasizing about was here, I was shy.

  The inner monologue in my head went back and forth.

  What if he says no?

  You’ll never know unless you ask.

  But I’ll die a thousand deaths.

  Seriously? You who played football and were bashed and beaten on the field countless times are scared about a little word like, “No.”

  Yes.

  Chicken.

  “I can’t feel my ass.” I so wanted him in me. Knotting me.

  “Perhaps I can. And warm it up for you.” He clapped a hand on my butt and massaged it.

  I whimpered and chewed my lower lip as I asked, “Would you like to come to my place?” I had no idea about his living arrangements, but Richard was at work until tomorrow so we’d have my place to ourselves.

  He ran his thumb over my lips but then pulled away and screwed up his face. Fuck! Here it comes! Fuck seeing him again. Fuck V Day, as Richard called it, and especially Fuck Richard. Fuck everyone. “Jesse, I’m sorry.”

  I held up my hand. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have asked.” I shrugged. “It was just a kiss. Meant nothing. It is Valentine’s Day after all.” I wrapped my arms around my chest trying to keep the hurt out and not succeeding. Not bothering to check my phone, I muttered, “I should be going. Busy day tomorrow.” That last part was a lie, but I wanted to get out of there. I’d watch crappy TV and pretend tonight never happened.

  “You done?”

  “Definitely. I’ll see you around.” Or not.

  He placed a hand under my chin. “While it’s true I can’t come to your place…” He paused. Why is he torturing me? “It’s not because I don’t want to.”

  Huh? “Can you repeat that?”

  And there was that wicked smirk again. “Hard of hearing, are you?” He traced along my jaw with one finger and my stomach did flip flops. “I’ll make it easy for you. Do I want to spend time with you? Check. Do I want to have sex with you, fill you with my knot? Again, check. But do I have a cat that needs meds every eight hours? Yet again, check.”

  Awww he has a sick kitty. “That’s so sweet. No, that came out wrong. I’m sorry your pet is sick, but I love that you have a cat you obviously care about.”

  “I love the way words tumble out of you. It’s adorable.”

  “I do okay in the classroom but… wait… did you say sex?”

  He nodded. “I might have.”

  “That’s weird ‘cause I was inviting you to my place to show off my collection of orchids.”

  The look on his face was priceless. “You… you… what… orchids?”

  “Gotcha!” I snorted with laughter.

  “You ass.” He slapped my hip.

  “You have to admit, that was a good one.”

  “My heart stopped.”

  At the mention of his heart, I stared at my feet, not wanting to take in what lay in those big beautiful gray eyes. “Did you drive to the restaurant?”

  “Yeah, but neither of us is in any condition to get behind the wheel after one bottle of wine.” He got out his phone, and after tapping an app a few times, he said, “Ride will be here in two minutes.”

  While I was surprised it was so easy on Valentine’s Day, I didn’t argue, and we scrambled into the warmth of a car when it pulled up. Dean gave an address in a nice part of town. Whether he owned or rented, his salary and lifestyle were apparently very different to mine.

  I stared out the window as his thigh rubbed against my own. It’d been a while since I’d had sex, and I wondered if tomorrow morning I’d regret having what was possibly a one-night stand. But I pushed that thought away as my knees trembled at the idea of getting naked with Dean.

  He put a hand on my leg. “You cold?”

  “A little.” Another fib.

  He slung an arm around my shoulders and pulled me against him. The aroma of sugar, chocolate, wine, coffee, and seafood tickled my nostrils along with an underlining hint of that spicy scent which was his and his alone. I took a deep breath.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Much.”

  The rest of the journey passed in a haze, and when the car stopped and I jumped out, I craned my neck up and gazed at the row of houses. They were old, but judging from the outside, had obviously been modernized. Each one was very narrow and appeared to have three stories as well as a basement. “This is some place.”

  “Thanks. It’s a money pit, but I have a tenant in the basement apartment so that helps. I’m slowly doing it up. Still needs a lot of work.”

  Just as well he didn’t come to my house with the cigarette burns in the carpet from a previous tenant and the tatty old sofa that Richard and I had picked up secondhand. Dean was obviously doing way better than I’d expected.

  A sliver of doubt niggled at me. Despite our kiss and our mutual desire to have sex, I had more concerns that our night together would lead to something beyond one night of passion. I paused and leaned on the railing. Should I cut and run? Avoid the possibility of a broken heart and walk away?

  “Something wrong?” Dean asked as he fumbled with the key and held out his other hand in my direction.

  His intoxicating scent wafted over me, and his furrowed brow had me wanting to kiss it and soothe away the worry.

  “Nope,” I fibbed again as I took his outstretched hand.

  11

  Dean

  Jesse’s face dropped when I initially told him I couldn’t go to his place, which in a sick way was exactly what I needed, to know he wanted me...truly wanted me. Probably not as much as I was wanting him, my cock pounding at my zipper for most of the evening, but still…

  The driver dropped us in front of my townhouse. It wasn’t large like the old homes back where I grew up, but for this part of the city, I had quite a bit of space even with renting out the basement apartment. And really, how much space do you need when you live alone—alone with a furry master, anyway.

  I grabbed Jesse’s hand, yanking him inside looking every bit as eager as I was. I wanted this. No, I more than wanted this. I needed it like my next breath.

  There was just something about Jesse—his scent, the way his voice deepened slightly as he talked about anything that made him nervous, the opposite of many people, the way he tilted his head when he was listening intently, as if I was saying the most fascinating things. Scratch that. There was not something about Jesse—there was everything about Jesse, and for this night, I got to make him mine.

  Did I want more than that? Absolutely, but there was no way I was going to ruin the chance to get naked with him over a conversation that might not go as well as I would like. Nope. We were both hard, if his pants were telling the truth—both sober, the ride share an excuse to sit close to him and not have to deal with the stressors of driving in the city, and both single. That was good enough for the night. Tomorrow could bring discussions of more. Tonight was all about the feels.

  I leaned in, taking his lips with mine, as Stu’s insanely loud purring began. Shit. I almost forgot the reason we were here and not at Jesse’s place. I was a crappy fur daddy. I ended the kiss quickly, earning me a whimper from the sexy omega in my arms.

  “Good. Save that for a minute.” I stepped back and picked up Stu. “Hey fat cat, you been a good boy?” He purred even louder.

  “He is not quiet.” Jesse chuckled.

  “You should hear him at night if I roll over...he thinks I’m awake and is all about the attention and starts with his lawnmower purr.”

  Jesse reached over and patted Stu’s head, and my traitor cat leaned into his hand.

  “He usually doesn’t like people he doesn’t know.” Or people ot
her than me—I didn’t say.

  “Huh? Well, he is a handsome boy and not at all fat,” his voice got all cute and adorable, and I wanted to lean in and kiss his adorableness—so I did. “What was that for?”

  “Just for you being you.” His pinkened cheeks had me wanting to lean in and do it again, but first I had to take care of Stu. “Let me get him his meds and then we can get more comfortable.”

  I turned to go to the kitchen and turned back to add, “And by more comfortable, I mean naked.” Something had changed from the restaurant to here, and suddenly I felt more confident—no, more comfortable, just being me in front of Jesse, and being me included showing him just how much I wanted him and not hiding behind my perceived social status bullshit like back in the day.

  “I was hoping.” He winked back, and I immediately went back to focusing on my mission to take care of Stu.

  In the kitchen I found his prescription bottle and a small can of his favorite food. He had become a spoiled fur ball ever since his first seizure. It was also why he was now more round than cat-shaped, but if giving him fancy foods kept the medicine down I was all about that.

  “Is he sick?” Jesse had followed me into the kitchen and was now leaning against the counter and watching me intently. Stu took that to mean he was going to be pampered and trotted over to him—yes, on the counter. I didn’t have the heart to fight him on that one. I just resolved myself to cleaning every surface whenever I needed to use the counters. Small price to pay if it allowed me not to have to spend my life yelling at the poor thing.

  “He gets seizures, so kind of?” It wasn’t as if he would get better from what the vet said. “Eventually they hope to have it be just twice a day, but so far it’s every eight hours. My tenant gives him one dose a day for me in exchange for reduced rent so it helps us both out.” And he loved Stu and from what I could tell was very lonely, so it seemed like a good fit.