Page 7 of Fiona
“How long have you had him?” Fiona asks.
“Practically since he was a puppy. A friend of mine worked a shelter and Denny got dropped off after he was found wandering the street alone. He didn’t have any tags, or a microchip and he was small from malnutrition from living on the streets. He needed special attention, so my friend called me. We’ve been best friends ever since.”
“I love that.” She smiles at me and I not only does my body react to her but something more. A need inside me that says not to let her get away.
“After this, do you want to come back to my place for a drink?” I blurt out, not wanting this evening to end.
Fiona considers my offer for a moment. I get her answer when she takes my hand and together we all start walking back to my loft.
FIONA
This evening started out as just a way to sow my wild oats, I couldn’t have imagined meeting such a great guy my first time around. Cherry wasn’t this lucky but then again, she’s a fictional character. What kind of story would it be if she found Mr. Right in chapter two and had a happily ever after by chapter three?
As we all ride up the elevator to his place, Michael pulls me close to him, his fingers still linked in mine. He lightly brushes his lips against mine, like he’s testing the waters to make sure that I’m still okay with what we are doing. I kiss him back, but we get interrupted by Denny jumping up on both of us, trying to get in on the fun.
“Hey man,” Michael looks down at Denny’s smiling face. “I thought we had an arrangement.”
“You did?”
“Well I had hope that the night would head in this direction.”
A thrill of excitement courses through me. I love the way that Michael is looking at me like I’m the only woman in the world to him. The way his strong arm is wrapped tight around me, holding my soft body against his hard one. And the unmistakable press of his stiff cock pressed between us. I like knowing that I have this effect on him.
We head inside his loft apartment. It looks like a page ripped out of a home design store, and not something a bachelor would be living in. Denny loses interest in us when Michael gives him a treat in his rubber Kong for him to focus on.
I’m leaning against the kitchen island watching him when Michael walks back towards me and rests his hands on either side of the island, caging me in. The spicy scent of his aftershave fills my nose and I want to bury myself in his muscular chest.
“Do you still want that drink?” he asks, his voice deep and sexy.
“No.” I shake my head and run my hands up his chest to the lapels of his dress shirt. “I want you to kiss me again.”
He smiles mischievously at me. “I think that can be arranged.
His lips crush down against mine. I feel the heated sensation of his touch flow through every nerve in my body. I wrap my arms around his neck and he lifts me up onto the island. He thrusts his hips between my thighs, pushing his hard cock against my aching center.
Michael’s hands move down my thighs and dip below the fabric of my dress. Heat pools in my lower belly and a pleasurable ache begins to build inside me. I can’t hold back the moan of pleasure that comes out of me.
This moment playing out is eerily similar to one in the bookCherry Pop. Expect instead of a meaningless hookup in a kitchen restaurant that Cherry has with a hot chef. I’m getting dry humped on a kitchen island in the apartment of a guy that I’m really starting to like but only just met. What started out as something that was supposed to be meaningless suddenly feels so much more.
I was okay with hooking up with some guy when I thought that I’d never see him after the next morning. At least I thought I was when the girls made it sound like it a simple transaction. But the feelings that have been growing inside me for Michael all evening is not something I’m sure I want to walk away from. And I don’t want to cheapen it either.
“Wait,” I breathe out, pushing against his chest. I slip off the island and my right ankle buckles in my heel from the not so graceful landing. “I have to go.”
“Wait, what?” he asks, stepping back to give me some room. “Right now?”
“Yes, I’m sorry. I just can’t do this.”
“We can slow down.”
I shake my head and grab my clutch off the small table near the door and pull out my phone to call for a car to pick me up.
“I don’t understand what happened.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. But please know that it’s not anything you did. It’s all me.”
I push up on my toes and kiss him on his cheek.
“Don’t go,” he whispers and it’s almost enough to stop me.
Almost.
