Love at Blind Date Complete Series: Books 1-4

by Lorelei M. Hart

  Shuffling back and sitting on my heels, I grabbed his ankles. “Ready?”

  “For anything with you. Yes.”

  I yanked him over the mattress so he was no longer sitting up, and without uttering a word, he lifted his knees, giving me, once again, a view of his magnificent ass. Slick glistened in the lamplight as I bounced my cock in my palm.

  “If you don’t put that in me right now, I’ll slam my ass onto it,” he hissed.

  “That can be arranged—later.”

  An impish grin crossed his face. “You’re going to send me into a frenzy, aren’t you?”

  I hope so. I pushed his legs farther apart and traced around his entrance with the tip of my length. With my right hand, I bent Richard’s left leg, so my fingers were on the back of his knee. He swiveled his hips, while his other leg was curled on the bed.

  “Grab your cock,” I grunted.

  As our eyes caressed one another, I entered him. Engulfed with sweat trickling from my brow and emotions bubbling inside me, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to feel.

  He was so wet, the slick coating him, me, and the bedding. He was tight, but as I opened my eyes and stared into his, he grunted and his body gripped around me, sending a tingling sensation hurtling through my veins.

  Richard lifted his head and mumbled, “More, Harry. Fuck me, please.”

  I pushed in farther, and he whimpered and lifted his hips. Slowly, inch by glorious inch, I shoved in, stretching him and filling him. It was snug, warm, and oh so tight. “I love being inside you,” I gasped.

  “It’s so good, Harry. But I need it harder,” he begged.

  Pulling out so only the tip remained, I instructed Richard, “Pump your dick.”

  As I plunged in again, he tugged his cock, and we both moaned. I wished I could be both inside him and have my mouth on his length. My gaze flicked to his fingers encircling his arousal. The dark pink of his shaft and the pre-cum wobbling at the head overwhelmed me, and a savage lust took hold of me as spiky goosebumps prickled over my skin.

  “Tug your dick. Show me how you do it,” I panted. “And then I want to taste you.”

  His hand slid from the base, over the shaft to the tip while he removed the wetness from the head. He offered me his finger, and I sucked and savored the acrid taste of pre-cum.

  I pulled out of his warm channel and plunged back in. Richard yelled my name, and cupping his hand over his length, pumped at the same time. Sweat dribbled over my nose, and I licked the salty beads while some escaped and dripped onto him.

  “Harry!” Richard yelled, “I love your cock!”

  My head was full of this omega as I penetrated him. His moans, hisses, and grunts, and the competing flavors and scents ambushing my tongue and nostrils that swirled around me as I sank into him. His sweat-soaked body under my right hand and his wet channel tightening around me had a gripping sensation expanding from my belly to the rest of me.

  Bright lights flashed in front of my eyes as Richard’s groans and whimpers mirrored my own. My balls slapped against him, and I mumbled his name while he arched his back and he picked up my rhythm. As I plunged, he pumped.

  Sultry mews that escaped his lips had me scrunching my eyes and thrusting deep inside him.

  “Harry. Harry. Oh fuck, Harry, I’m close,” he shouted.

  Me too! The world closed in. There was Richard. And me. And nothing else. I tensed and yelled, “Richard,” as my throbbing cock, burrowed deep inside him, shot seed into his channel. My dick swelled further, and my knot claimed him. Him and only him.

  Richard’s body jerked, and I couldn’t make out what he was saying as cum streamed from his dick and coated his chest.

  45

  Richard

  What had come over me? I never allowed anyone to knot me. Fuck me? Sure, but knots were different, somehow so much more personal.

  Yet there I was, lying on the bed, a sweaty sticky mess, his knot filling me so completely, and I just wanted to say like that forever.

  No. Not forever. This is bad. Very bad.

  “That was amazing.” He nibbled on my ear. “So worth the wait.” I hadn’t thought of it that way, but we had waited, hadn’t we? All those crossing paths...almost like serendipity, if you will.

  “You know how to treat an omega,” I snuggled in close instinctively. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.” There was no think about it. I had never come that hard...not even close. There was something about the way his hands danced across my skin, the way his scent enveloped me, the way his lips worshipped my body that was unlike any alpha I’d ever been with.

  “I could say the same thing to you.” His teeth grazed my shoulder. “We should do this again sometime,” he said casually.

  If only I could take it as such. Something about that simple phrase had my fight-or-flight mechanism kicking in. I couldn’t stay the night. If I did, I’d want to do it again and again. And that just couldn’t happen. I had to work on me...work on my career first, and then I could go back to falling in love with all the hot alphas who crossed my path.

  “You’re thinking too hard,” he squeezed me a little closer. “If you are a germ person, I can easily change the sheets while you shower.” And there I was trying to form a plan to get out of there, and he was doing the opposite, trying to get me comfortable enough to stay.

  Which only proved my theory that I needed to leave.

  “You’re a doctor. Of course you are a germ person,” he added as the silence between us grew.

  “Contrary to popular belief, doctors tend not to be so germ phobic.” I tilted my head back to look at him, loving the blush of his cheeks and the sweat on his brow from our joining. Damn. I hadn’t thought he could look any sexier than he did the first time he kissed me—I'd been wrong. “Kiss me, alpha,” I said, surprising even myself, and as his lips brushed mine in the awkward position, I was inwardly cursing his knot and how it was thwarting my ability to kiss him properly.

  We snuggled back up and just lay in silence as his knot slowly subsided and he slipped out of me.

  “I should go.” I sat up. “This was so...it was…”

  “Yeah, it was.” He reached for and squeezed my hand. “I wasn’t joking about the sheets. I could fix them up and you can stay.”

  “If I was going to stay, the sheets would only get dirty again so that would be a waste of time,” I winked. It was true, my cock was already showing signs of renewed interest. “Mind if I take a shower?” I stood up, stretching, loving the slight soreness running through my body.

  “Yeah. Sure.” He got up and walked out of the room, and at first I thought I pissed him off, but as he came back he was carrying two fresh towels. The sweetness of his gesture almost had me changing my mind and hopping back into bed with him. But that would be bad.

  At that moment I couldn’t remember why it would be bad, but it would. I remembered that part.

  “You are kind beyond measure.” I gave a little bow and took his offering.

  “Fresh towels should be the norm.” He pointed to a door I’d thought was a closet. “The shower is in there. I would join you except there is no room.”

  I padded into the bathroom and he had very much not been telling a fib about there not being room. The shower was one of those ones they put in cheap-ass apartments where you had to duck to get under the water and needed to take care not to push open the shower curtain and let all the water out when you washed your hair. And Harry’s place wasn’t a hovel by any means.

  Of course I understood the designer’s choice. Also sitting in the same room was a bathtub fit for a king. Two kings even. It was one of those freestanding soaking tubs they had on all the fancy home decorating shows. Oh to climb into that after a long night of crying babies and puking toddlers.

  I showered off quickly and walked out to see Harry far too dressed and my clothing folded on the bed, my shirt replaced with a T-shirt of his own.

  “I figured you would want a shirt since I ruined yours.” H
e half-shrugged.

  “It was ruined long before you tore off the buttons,” I reminded him. “Did your uncle tell you I can see the future?”

  “He did not. What does the future hold, dear omega? Do tell.” He played along, instantly seeing my tease for what it was.

  “I see me taking a long hot soak in that bathtub.”

  “I guess that means I need your number.”

  “Or I need yours.” I dropped my towel and sauntered over to my clothes, putting them on oh so slowly. So much for sticking to my plan to not have this be any more than a romp in the hay followed by a date at a wedding.

  Who was I kidding? I set this entire plan up because letting him walk out of the bar would’ve been too fucking difficult.

  The question remained; how was I going to come out of this unscathed, and even if I couldn’t, how could I make sure Harry did? He at least deserved that. No. Scratch that. He deserved so much more.

  46

  Harry

  Four pairs of eyes, including my own, stared at my reflection in the mirror as Jason, the tailor, fussed over my soon-to-be-completed suit. I had to admit the double-breasted, navy jacket fitted me perfectly and was my first made-to-measure suit. But the scruff on my chin had to go.

  The tailor’s assistant, Keith, kneeled on the floor, pinning the hem of my pants. “What do you think of the length, Harry?” Jason asked.

  “A little longer,” my cousin, Darren interjected.

  I didn’t contradict him. It was his wedding after all, and I’d allowed myself to be measured and poured into too-tight pants and waistcoats for weeks.

  I was tiring of this wedding and it was still three weeks away. To be honest, Darren had been turning into a groomzilla with his lists and demands I get my haircut a certain way and what I should and shouldn’t say in my best man speech at the reception. But as he was an easygoing guy most of the time, I put his change of behavior down to pre-wedding jitters.

  We’d grown up a few streets apart from one another and had gone to the same school. But the wedding preparation had me wondering if I ever decided to get married, eloping would be the best option.

  Of course, thinking of weddings and love had my thoughts turning to Richard. And it was as though Darren could read my mind. Or perhaps he heard me sigh or observed my glazed eyes. Please don’t pry the secret out of me. The secret being that while I had no idea what Richard and I were to one another, we were presenting a united front at the wedding, pretending to be a couple.

  My cousin shoved me into the dressing room and yanked the curtain closed. While I undressed, he gave me the third-degree. “So, how’s it going with your doctor friend?” He emphasized the last word, which told me all I needed to know.

  And I was reminded, once again, of how much I hated weddings. Not just the big day but the run-up. Being judged by extended family based on my marital status was exhausting.

  “Fine.”

  “Oh, come on, Harry.” He took the unfinished pants from me and handed them to Jason who was hovering outside. “You’re either not enthusiastic about him or you’re holding back.”

  He was right, and I’d been hoping to avoid this conversation.

  “Based on the way the news has spread around the family, I assumed everyone had all the facts and had made a decision, so what’s the point of discussing it?” Calling it news rather than gossip was me being generous.

  “Ouch!” My cousin took a step back.

  “Sorry for being testy,” I sighed.

  Our family was incredibly supportive in so many ways. They were the first ones at the door with food when someone was sick. They boosted my confidence at the end of law school when I was having doubts about passing the bar. They’d lent money to family members in crisis and used their contacts to get one of us a job interview.

  But when it came to matters of the heart, their mentality reverted to a time when anyone single was to be pitied.

  “I’d rather keep it private until I know where we’re headed.” What I had with Richard was so new, I feared publicizing in case I jinxed it. Keeping it safe and protected from outside opinions and gossip was what I’d hoped—at least initially.

  Richard was still hinting our so-called relationship had an expiration date, and I was probably fooling myself thinking I could change his mind. I most definitely wasn’t sharing that with my cousin.

  Darron flicked a thread off my shoulder as we emerged from the changing room. “Too late for that—especially in our family.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “So spill.”

  “Ahhhh.” I put my hands around my neck in a choking motion, but my cousin ignored my theatrics and folded his arms as Jason gave Keith instructions in the background.

  “Okay, it was weird at first with us bumping into one another every few months and him keeping his distance.” Darren tut-tutted as I continued, “But since St. Paddy’s Day, things have progressed.”

  “And by that I assume you mean sex.”

  “No!” Please stop pestering me, Darren!

  “You haven’t slept with him?” he asked incredulously.

  “I have.”

  “And?”

  I shoved him away and headed for the door. “I’m not discussing my sex life with you.”

  “Sounds bad, dude. Sorry. Don’t know what to tell you.” His downcast eyes reminded me of a puppy who’d been told off for chewing the furniture. “Of course, sex isn’t everything.” He gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder.

  Damn my family. Uncle was the same. Always worming things out of me. Though I couldn’t ignore my tendency to take the bait. “It was freaking brilliant. Best sex I’ve ever had. Satisfied?”

  Customers admiring fabrics and others discussing orders with Jason’s business partner glanced over their shoulders. One mumbled. “No. But you must be.”

  Darren snorted. God, I can’t stand that self-satisfied smug look on his face. “How is it you’re so good at your job…” He held up a hand as I opened my mouth. “And don’t forget I’ve seen you work a courtroom. You’re Mr. Pokerface. And yet you can’t resist me needling you about your love life.”

  I shrugged. “Long history, I guess.”

  “Tell me about the guy, apart from him being good in bed. Does he sleep at your place every night? Have you got a drawer in his dresser? A toothbrush in his bathroom?”

  “It’s not like that.” Though I wish it were. “He’s a doctor.”

  “Yeah yeah. Uncle filled me in on how he set you up on a blind date.”

  “Then you know how busy he is. He works nights, sometimes does double shifts if someone’s sick. The life of a doctor is crazy.”

  “Okay, Mr. Trial Lawyer, and is your work life any less insane? I’ve seen you lock yourself away for a month when prepping for a big trial.”

  “What are you saying?” We were out on the street, and I was headed to my car with my cousin at my heels.

  “He sounds like a player.”

  I swirled around. “What does that mean?” I paused, but he didn’t respond. “Are you saying he’s using me? Or he’s sleeping with other people? Perhaps he’s married with three kids?” Words were hurtling from my mouth as a frenzy built up inside me.

  “You’re involved with him. What don’t you tell me?”

  “No. No. No. Do not psychoanalyze me.” That was his day job, and I loathed when that spilled into my personal life.

  “All I’m saying is be careful.” He put a hand on my chest. “Take care of your heart. It’s the only one you’ve got.”

  47

  Richard

  “How did you talk me into this again?” Harry held up his rented pair of bowling shoes.

  “I asked,” I leaned in close, “and I have a great ass.” I reached behind him, snatching my ugly-ass bowling shoes, and walked away giving him a good view of said ass. He groaned. I was taking that as his agreement that my butt was spectacular.

  When Enrique begged me to join what he deemed “the crew�
� bowling, I couldn’t think of one good excuse as to why I couldn’t, and believe me, I tried. When you work with someone, they know your schedule, sometimes better than you did, and I had a feeling that was why their little bowling night miraculously changed to my day off.

  It wasn’t until that morning at work that he mentioned looking forward to seeing Henry at bowling, his assumption that I’d be bringing him along. I hadn’t even thought it an option, figuring it was a work thing, but nope...spouses, significant others, and even a few college-age kids were all in the mix.

  “You called last minute,” Harry’s hand settled on my hip from behind. “That means your ass isn’t great...it’s exceptionally magnificent.” His breath teased the back of my neck, and I had to think about the rotting apple I’d found in the back of my fridge that morning to keep my cock at bay.

  “I accept your assessment,” I sassed. “Now ready for me to kick your butt?” He took my hand in his, and we walked in the direction of the private lanes Enrique had booked...who knew that was even a thing.

  “I was born ready…” he gave my hand a squeeze, “to kick yours.”

  “Oh, it’s on.”

  As we turned into the alley, I was surprised, although I probably shouldn’t have been, that Enrique had already broken everyone into lanes, had pitchers of sodas on the tables behind the lanes, and had glow stickers for us all.

  “Glow bowling, Uncle? Really?” Harry dropped my hand long enough to hug his uncle and quickly intertwined his fingers through mine again. My stomach did a little flutter at the simple gesture. It had been doing that quite a lot lately and always at the little things.

  “Why not? They offered, and I happen to have these at home.” I had a feeling that might not be completely true.

  “Don’t listen to his nonsense,” a pepper-grey-haired man with the most brilliant blue eyes interrupted. “We drove all around town looking for these bad boys, so do your uncles a favor and put them on.” He handed a sheet to Harry and me.