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Mick: I'd fuck you if I was straight.
Me: You sure?
Mick: No, I'm not sure. I'm not straight, you know that, right?
Me: I'm not 21 anymore.
Mick: None of us are.
Me: You know what I mean.
Mick: He looks at you like a dog does at a piece of steak after he hasn't eaten for a week. You can wear a burlap sack, and he'll still fuck you.
Me: I made lasagna for dinner. I bought some Chianti. Should I have booked a restaurant?
Mick: Only if you have a public sex kink.
Me: Shite. I don't have any dessert. I forgot.
Mick: Just take your panties off and spread your legs. Pussy for dessert.
Me: Argh!
I set the table. White table cloth, candles, the nice silverware that I borrowed from Mick and Arturo because mine were IKEA all the way. I borrowed wine glasses from them as well, because mine came cheap from Amazon, so I didn't have to care if they broke. Theirs were delicate and made a pleasant sound when clinked together.
Since Rowan kept saying I smelled like jasmine, I had a jasmine-scented candle flickering on the coffee table. The lasagna was keeping warm in the oven.
I opened the bottle of Chianti and made sure it wasn't bad. I poured myself a little and guzzled it down.
I was nervous as hell.
I didn't know how to have sex. I worked sixty hours a week and had a preschooler. I didn't have time for sex. I didn't have time to shave my legs most days. But Rowan, he'd been having sex. He had practice.
I'm going to be so lame in bed. Lamer than even last time.
Why, oh why had I asked him to stay the night? What was wrong with me?
I drank some more wine to take the edge off.
Moderate the wine, Isha, or you won't just be taking your edge off. You'll be sleeping on the dining table before dinner.
By the time the doorbell rang, I was ready to turn the lights off and pretend no one was home.
I gingerly opened the door. Rowan stood there with a leather bag slung over his shoulder.
"Wow," he murmured when he looked at me, coming in and shutting the door behind him.
He dropped his bag on the floor, and pulled me to him. His mouth was on mine less than a minute after he was in the door.
Damn it, there goes my carefully applied lipstick.
His tongue was inside me as he tasted, nibbled…devoured.
He lifted his head, his eyes heated. The blue was darker somehow.
"My God, you're so fucking beautiful. You make my head spin." He nuzzled my neck. "And you smell so good."
He kissed my nose and smiled at me.
