I stare out the window. I try to contain my rapidly churning emotions. My anger at his arrogance. My frustration over how emotionally volatile I am tonight with Neil. And the sudden, unexpected flash of relief. He’s not dumping me; he’s trying to date me.
Neil surprises me a second time by driving out on the pier. My stomach somersaults as he pulls into the valet lane in front of one of my favorite restaurants—Neil hates the pier. He thinks it’s touristy. He brought me someplace I would like.
He takes my hand and guides me into the restaurant. We sit upstairs on the outside patio staring at the water, the boats, and the people around us.
Once the waitress has taken our dinner order and left the table, Neil asks, “You’re very quiet, Chrissie. What are you thinking?”
I shrug. “I was just thinking that I’ve never really been on a date before.”
Neil smiles and takes a sip of his ice-tea. “What do you mean you’ve never been on a date before? You must have dated a lot in high school.”
He’s staring at me in a way that tells me he thinks I’m joking.
My cheeks redden. “I’ve had boyfriends. Well, two. But I haven’ been on a real date. You know. Pick me up. Meet my dad. Take me out and then take me home. A date-date.”
He studies me quizzically, and then gives me a small smile. “How do you think it’s going so far?”
I laugh. “I don’t know. I’ll let you know when it’s over. But it’s going OK so far.”
We both laugh this time.
We’re not talking a lot as we eat our dinner, but I think the laughter made it all less uncomfortable than it was when we first got to the restaurant.
After dinner, we take a walk along the pier. At the end, I lean over the rail, staring at the water. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a quick peek at Neil. He looks as awkward in this as I feel, and I never expected that from Neil. He’s always so calm, so sure of himself. He always has an air of popular-guy superiority about him. It’s kind of sweet that Neil feels awkward on a date with me.
Wind and dampness brush my skin. I shiver.
“I should get you home. I promised your dad I’d get you home early.”
I nod. It’s been a good night. Something in me doesn’t want to push the evening farther.
I turn from the rail and start to walk. We stop at the valet, and we wait for the car to be brought around.
“Do you still have it?” he asks.
I frown. “Have what?”
“The half dollar?”
Our silly bet. I can tell by the way he’s looking at me he doesn’t think I kept my half of the dollar. I rummage through my bag, pull out my wallet, unzip the pocket, and hold the half dollar beneath his nose.
“Do you still have yours?” I ask.
He stops and lets go of my hand. He pulls his wallet from his back pocket and fishes it out.
I stare up at him. I would have never bet in a million years Neil had kept his half of the dollar.
“Why’d you keep it?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m just like that. I keep all sorts of things.”
When the car arrives, he opens my door before the valet can come around. He stares down at me. “Why’d you keep yours?”
Those green eyes are fixed on my face.
“I don’t know.”
It’s the truth. I don’t know why I kept that silly half dollar, made in a bet, from a guy who wasn’t even interested in me.
I watch Neil climb into the car beside me. We drive back to my dad’s house in silence, only I like our silence this time. He pulls into my driveway, parks, and turns off the car.
“I had a good time tonight, Chrissie.”
“I had a good time, too.”
“So do you think you might want to do this again?”
I smile. “It would be all right.”
He leans in and gives me a feather-light kiss. He pulls back quickly and climbs from the car.
He opens my door. I climb out. When he closes the passenger door, I lean back against it. I should go into the house.
He runs a hand through his hair. “Good night, Chrissie.”
I stare up at him.
Neil steps into me, his hands planted on either side of me, and I’m flattened against the car, and he’s kissing me passionately. Across my face. My cheeks. My lips. His lower body pushing into me in time with the thrusts of his tongue. The hungriness of the assault makes my head spin, because I can feel raging desire and need in how he’s kissing me. And I can feel it inside of me as I match each kiss and thrust.
I lock my mouth to his and the twisting urgency of my body moves against his fully erect cock. He’s grinding into me, as if he can’t get close enough. I feel my body building and building. My flesh heats. My heart accelerates.
Neil breaks off. He steps back. We’re both breathing raggedly.
“Shit,” he says, leaning forward. He looks dizzy, disoriented, aroused.
I stare at him. “Don’t leave yet. You can stay for a while, Neil.”
His arms are quivering. He’s trying to calm himself. “I’ve got to go, Chrissie. I can’t stay here with you. Your dad is in the house.”
My eyes widen and my cheeks flush. Neil always plays it so cool, but he’s as hot for me as I am for him tonight.
“I want you to stay,” I repeat.
I’m shocked by my admission. Neil looks undecided, almost vulnerable as he exhales another long breath and stares at me.
I take his hand and start pulling him with me around the house to the side.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
I peek around into the backyard. Jack isn’t on the patio. I tug on Neil again, this time at a running pace, and drag him into the pool house. I lock the door behind me. I lean back against it.
Neil stops in the center of the room, his gaze does a fast float across the fully appointed bedroom, and then he stares at me.
“No one ever comes here,” I say.
My voice sounds strange. Excited, and lower than usual. I can feel everything in my body. The blood pumping through my veins. The pulse in my sex. The rise and fall of my breasts. Even the wayward strands of hair teasing my cheeks as I breathe.
“Are you sure?” Neil asks.
I’m not sure what he’s asking me.
“That no one ever comes here? Or that I want to go to bed with you?”
“Both?” he asks.
My lids flutter wide. “I’m sure about both.” And I’m surprised how sure I feel about everything this second.
Neil starts to move towards me. My breath catches in my throat. In a moment, he’s back on me, pushing me into the wall, his cock rubbing me, eager and demanding. I moan into his mouth, parting my lips so his tongue can invade me. The touch of it against mine brings the urgency singing through my limbs. There is something hard and immediate in Neil’s kiss. I’ve never been kissed like this. Not in this bludgeoning desperation. Not even by Alan in his most passionate moments. Neil is all consuming, in want of flesh and nothing else.
I close my eyes against the disorienting, leveling assault of sensation running through me. His hands close on my wrists and he starts to move us toward the bed. Between kisses and grinds, we shed our clothes, dumping them in a trail on the floor.
I feel his erection searching against me. I open my eyes as he takes us back upon the bed. Between kisses and brushes against my sex, he works at tearing open a small foil package. For some reason, seeing that heightens my arousal; the thought that he brought it, and perhaps planned through dinner how he would get to use it with me.
He eases enough away from me to slip it on, and then he’s in me, hard and searching at first thrust.
“Oh fuck, Chrissie,” he groans into my mouth pumping, filling, searching in my flesh.
The thrusts are good. I’m almost there. My hips start to move in their own rhythm, using his body to hit all my spots of inner arousal. I’m moving in my own dance. He’s moving in his own dance. Looking for release. Separate, bodies joined, and yet it is strangely right that it should be this way with Neil. The command of our bodies for our own pleasure. Me taking him as I want. Him taking me as he wants. No emotional convolution. Just sex and want and need.