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What is she thinking about?
I want her in bed. Her bed, my bed, any bed. From the moment I saw her sitting in the window, staring at me, I knew I wanted her.
We drive in silence. The radio plays softly. Music filters through the car just enough to cut through the silence. We don't need to talk, and that's a first for me. I haven't been this comfortable around a woman in a while. If ever. Being with Nicole in the car, alone, doesn't feel strange at all.
"Are you okay?" I ask, just to be sure.
"Perfect," she says. I can hear the smile in her voice without looking at her. Is it just me, or is her voice a little husky? I swallow, shifting in my seat. My stiff length strains against my pants. I'm wired, itching for release. The wine makes me feel hot and bothered, and so does she.
"Right here," she says and points at an apartment building that creeps up almost right to the road. She points at a parking space marked out with white paint.
"Here?" I ask. No underground parking? No marked bays?
She nods. I maneuver the car into the parking space and switch off the engine. In the silence, I can hear the motor ticking to a stop.
I get out of the car and walk around to Nicole’s side. She's already opening the door, but I take over, anyway.
She smiles. "Such a gentleman."
God, if only she knew how filthy things are going to become. I want to strip away the veneer of civilization from her.
I walk with her to the door that leads into her building. She turns around and faces me.
"Thank you for dinner," she says. "It was like a dream."
I smile. "I’m glad you liked it."
She shifts her weight from one leg to another. Her fingers are interlinked in front of her. She's shy, unsure. I love it. It makes me that much more eager to take charge.
I lift my hand and hook her hair behind her ear. Her eyes find mine, and her lips part slightly. My eyes slide down to her lips, making it clear exactly what I'm going to do. My fingertips rest on her temple, and I let them slide down onto her cheek, slowly.
She tips her head up to me, and her breath hitches in her throat. It's a soft sound, but it's there.
I lean in, closing the distance between us very slowly. Her chest heaves. I notice her cleavage from the corner of my eye. She's breathing harder and faster.
When my lips touch hers, a current of electricity jolts through my body. I plant quick pecks on her lips; one, two, three kisses, before I trace the bottom of her lip with my tongue, asking her to open for me.
When she parts her lips, I slide into her, entering her body in a way. I press my body against hers. Her breasts swell against my chest. The heat of her skin seeps through my clothes.
She whimpers almost inaudibly.
She's so shy; it's frustrating. I can't wait to break through that barrier and set the minx free. I can just imagine what she would be like in bed.
I raise my other hand to her face and cup her cheeks. I hold her there, balanced between my hands and my body and kiss her like I mean it. The kiss turns urgent. I try to tell her how I feel and what I want to do, without words.
She's the one who breaks the kiss. She steps back, putting distance between us. She breathes hard, her chest rising and falling. Her lips are parted, and her eyes dilate in the dim light that comes from the streetlight. All that just from a kiss? Everything about her is so innocent and pure. Some girls play this game, I know. The cute naiveté is a turn on.
She swallows hard.
"I better get inside," she says.
I nod. I? Not we. It dawns on me a little late.
"Thank you for tonight," she says.
I blink at her. Did she forget to invite me in or is she not going to?
"You’re welcome," I say. "But the night doesn’t have to be over."
