Blind Date

“Is that a compliment?” He brushed her hair from her shoulders for better access.

“If I was a religious kinda girl, I’d say I’d died and gone to heaven,” she breathed, feeling both of his hands spreading over the entire expanse of her back from spine to ribs. “Ahhhh god, Eric, that…feels…incredible…”

“How about this?” His breath tickled the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck before he kissed her there, his lips full and warm. Annie shivered, her nails digging into his thighs, making him jump. She had forgotten they were sitting under her sister’s kitchen table in the dark, with a party going on in the other room. She had forgotten she didn’t know this man, that she had never seen his face. There was nothing but his hands, his mouth, and the soft velvet darkness all around them.

Chapter Two

“Can we stop talking?” she whispered, leaning back and turning her face so her cheek rested against his. “I don’t remember ever feeling this good.”

“Do you want to just see what happens?” he asked, his fingers trailing down her chin, her throat.

“No. I want to be what happens.”

His mouth found hers in the darkness, a slow journey from a mislaid kiss against her ear, a wet trail over her cheek leading to her open and anticipating lips. He kissed her like she was a secret he was keeping-something precious and tender and worth protecting.

Annie hesitated, waiting for him to stop her as her hand curled back to touch his cheek, expecting to find thick scars or warped flesh, but to her surprise, his skin was smooth and unmarred. She slithered her arm around his neck, slanting her mouth across his and teasing his lips with her tongue.

His fingers fumbled with her buttons and she helped him, exposing her skin to the cool kitchen air. Kitchens were always so damned cold when there was no cooking going on. She suspected it was the tile, but regardless, her nipples responded immediately to the temperature change. The angle of the kiss was awkward, but she was afraid to move and break their connection. His hand drifted over the soft material of her bra, and she was glad she had worn something with a definite texture, silky and light.

Annie believed she heard voices coming closer to the door and she pulled quickly away, listening intently. The conversation was muffled and unintelligible, but after a few moments, she clearly heard her sister say, “In the kitchen.” She looked at Eric, trying to keep her breath from being fast and audible. “Maybe we should go somewhere?” she whispered, ducking her head and moving to her hands and knees to crawl out from under the table. He grabbed her hips and she gasped, looking back at him as he held fast.

“No, we can stay here,” he insisted, sliding his hands up her bare thighs.

“Are you sure?”

“Live dangerously.” His hands roamed over ass as he lifted her skirt.

“What color are these panties?” He probed her crevice through the thin material and she wiggled and sighed, arching her back.

“Black,” she whispered as he pushed her panties aside.

“Mm, shaved.” He sounded delighted as his fingers investigated her moistness.

Annie was still worried about being interrupted and tried to concentrate on the sounds from beyond the door, but his fingers were too distracting. When she felt his tongue slip under the elastic of her panties, all logical thought was lost.

“Ohhh yesss…” She muffled her response against the back of her hand, biting and sucking her own flesh as his tongue found her clit. She arched her back, spreading her legs wider in a silent offering. He yanked her panties down, lapping at her, making her moan out loud.

“Shh.” His breath was hot over her wet flesh, and she whimpered.

Annie thought the voices were receding, or maybe she just couldn’t hear as well anymore with him sucking on her clit. As his mouth worked over her flesh, she cared less and less about someone walking into the kitchen. Even if her sister’s husband had burst in at that moment, Annie didn’t think she would have reacted to him, except maybe with her middle finger.

He rolled her over on the tile, sliding her along the cold surface and pulling her panties off. Annie hissed, cradling her head in her hands. The knot there throbbed in protest after her short, but bumpy, journey across the tile.

“Ouch, my head.” Her brief complaint was forgotten almost immediately as she swung her legs up over his shoulders, eager for his tongue again.

“Hm, oh, right…” He was silent for a moment, his fingers lost in exploring her folds. “Come here.” He helped her sit, his hands cupping her breasts again as he kissed her, thumbing her nipples through the silky material. She gasped into his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck and straddling his thigh as he inched them forward, out from under the table. She slid even closer to him, knowing she was leaving a trail of her juices, darkening the denim of his jeans.