The text stares at me, waiting for my decision. I sigh. Why do the right people come along at the wrong time? So many times I’ve wondered what it would be like to be loved by Austin, but I don’t even know what real love feels like. Books and movies show what it’s supposed to be, and so far, I haven’t experienced the mythical phenomenon. It’s not his fault I have these thoughts. It’s a messy situation.
And on that note, I reply, “Originally, tablecloths were designed as a communal napkin.”
There. With every ounce of willpower I possess, Austin is pushed into the far recesses of my mind and barricaded, so he can’t escape to wreak havoc on my time with Finn. Lucy said Finn was a keeper, and she has Austin, so she must know something I don’t.
The doorbell rings as I place my phone on the kitchen counter. My feet float across the hardwoods on my way to the door. When I open it, Finn reaches for me, hoisting me up as if I’m weightless.
“Hi,” I say, wrapping my legs around his waist.
With his warm hands supporting my ass, he walks me inside and kicks the door closed.
“I want you so bad,” he says.
Nose to nose, I ask, “How bad?”
Again, he’s excellent at showing and not telling. There’s no time to give him a tour of anything, except my mouth. On a growl, he captures my bottom lip with his teeth, then slides his tongue inside. It’s all so hot. So new.
No man has ever carried me before. I’m not even concerned whether I’m heavy. Much.
My back thumps against the wall.
Yesss.
All my experiences have been in the prone position, and I exhale a breathy moan at the mere thought of wall sex. Goosebumps fan across my shoulder when he tears his lips from mine and sucks his way down my neck. With a wriggle of my knees, I inch his shorts down.
“You ready for me, babe?”
“Mm-hmm. Right here. Against the wall.”
Through the thin cotton of my tank, he bites a nipple. “You’re a dirty girl, huh?”
Maybe I am. This is uncharted territory. Finn doesn’t know me well enough to know I’m figuring myself out, so I throw caution to the wind and embellish my inner slut. “I’m filthy.”
The low rumble in his throat voices his approval. “I knew you were going to be a wildcat when I met you.”
Well, that’s interesting. I’m curious what vibe I exuded that made him think that about me, but his hips bump and grind all the wayward thoughts out of my head.
“I’m going to make you purr like a kitten.”
Not to seem picky, but I’d have preferred something more powerful. I want to roar like a lioness. But again, he does this magic trick with his tongue and that errant thought too vanishes into the ether. In the middle of another searing kiss, he spins from my happy place against the wall and deposits me on the couch. Bummer. My disappointment at the new location morphs to wide-eyed wonder as he whisks his T-shirt off…and carefully folds it.
It’s odd he took time to do that, but a neat man is good. At least I know he isn’t likely to leave a trail of dirty laundry in every room.
“I can’t wait to taste you.” In a flash, his greedy hands remove my shorts and panties. Precisely folded, they join his T-shirt on the end table. “Open up for me.”
“Here?” The urge to cross my legs is stronger than Finn and his dead lifts. Even with the blinds closed, the room is too bright.
“Yeah, babe.” His impressive cock tents the front of his shorts, and you know, who cares? Vitamin D is good for the immune system, they say. Eager to see what oral skills he possesses, I settle back in the cushions and spread.
“Mm, fuck.” He drops between my thighs, and trails a finger along my seam. “Ah, so wet.”
With a slow drag of his tongue, any lingering insecurities dissolve. The only thing that matters are the erotic sounds he makes as he feasts on me. There is no inch of my pussy he doesn’t explore. I brace my feet on his shoulders and ride the wave of sensations cascading throughout my body.
As he nips and sucks, my fingers delve into his thick hair, holding him captive. At the perfect pace and pressure, he circles my clit until I’m bucking off the couch.
“Yes, just like that.” I’ve never been with such a voracious man. Even his nose is in on the action. “Oh my God, don’t stop.”
A sublime tingle starts in my toes and works its way up my legs, spreading all the way to the top of my head. When he slips a finger inside, the tight wire coiled in my belly unfurls until my whole body buzzes with electric currents.
My back arches and I come all over his face.
When the shudders subside, I’m definitely purring.
My not-yet-recovered body is pulled to standing. From his lips come the most decadent sentence, “Taste how sweet you are.”
Our kiss is hungry and leaves me starving for more. I may need him to satisfy me again. Just to be double sure we’re compatible. He has other plans.
From his pocket, he produces the mysterious brush he purchased at my work. “I want you to paint me.”
I tilt my head. “Like a portrait?”
“No. My body.”
A little unexpected foreplay. None of the articles expanded on third date sex and where the boundaries lie. There must not be any.
“Okay,” I say. “Be right back.”
Bare-assed, I tug my tank down and hustle to the laundry room. Tubes of paint littering the shelves fly as I scramble through them to find blue and red. I snatch a mini palette, a towel too, and dash back
