Dammit!
Chapter 9 – “Hot in the City”
After a thoroughly enjoyable dinner, and a few glasses of the fantastic Chianti, I’m relaxed and happy.
The date has been filled with awesome conversation where we’ve talked about our jobs, our families, even how we both like to go running in the summer. We decide to order a Tiramisu to share to finish off our meal.
The waiter brings the dessert to our table with two spoons. As soon as he’s gone, Daniel looks over at me with that cheeky grin of his that I swear he’s been wearing all night. The one that screams that he’s imagining me naked while the gleam in his eye reminds me that he’s still got a few cards left up his sleeve.
“Can I feed you?” he asks with a dangerously low voice. Again, I’m forced to squeeze my legs together to try and dull the growing ache.
Although I’m taken aback by the intimacy of such a request, I’m trying not to show that he’s making me nervous. “I’d love you to.”
He dips his spoon into the creamy dessert and moves forward in his seat to reach over the table until the spoon lashes my lips with exquisite vanilla cream. I take the whole spoon in my mouth, my eyes never leaving his until he sees my tongue dart out and catch a small amount that has stuck to my lip. His gaze drops to my lips, and I can see his eyes dilate as he watches me clean it off me.
“Damn, I want to taste your mouth right now,” he mutters under his breath.
“What’s stopping you?” I retort with a smirk.
I hear him growl. “You’re such a little tease, you know that?”
“I may have been told that from time to time.” I dip my finger into the whipped cream and hold it out to him. He softly takes my finger into his mouth. My eyes widen, and my breathing picks up as he swirls his tongue around my finger inside his mouth, lightly sucking it before releasing it with a loud pop.
I groan in delight. “Damn, boy. You’re giving me way too much to think about.”
He stands up and leans over the table until his lips are only an inch away from mine. “Then don’t think. Just go with it,” he murmurs against my lips as he traces his tongue along my bottom lip. My mouth opens, and as soon as my aching tongue touches his, the kiss becomes ravenous. I wrap my hands around his neck and we battle for supremacy while tasting tiramisu on each other’s lips. Then, as quick as it starts it ends as he pulls back, resting his forehead on mine while we catch our breaths.
“If I start now, Mac, I won’t be able to stop until you’re underneath me on this table. So I’m thinking…” he says huskily, stroking his hand softly down my cheek, “that we need a change of scenery.”
He stands back up and walks around the table, holding his hand out to me. Placing my hand in his, we briefly stop at the hostess booth to take care of the bill, then walk out the door and into the warm spring night. I check my watch and see that it’s only nine o’clock.
Daniel stops and turns to face me in the middle of the sidewalk outside the restaurant. “Where to now, m’lady?” he asks with a fake, and really bad, British accent.
I look up at him and smirk, trying to hold back my laughter. “Well, you did promise to take me to Navy Pier, mister,” I say, playfully poking his chest with my free hand. “And a promise is a promise.” Still holding my hand, he wraps it behind my back while he adds pressure, pinning my body to his. “And I intend to keep that promise, just as soon as I do this.” He bends his head down and kisses me softly again.
This man can kiss. I could honestly just stand here and kiss him all night long. I close my eyes and let myself get carried away with this kiss. It’s different to the one he gave me in the restaurant. This kiss is full of promise, full of desire, and if his large, hard c**k that is now lying against my stomach is any indication, a sign of things to come.
Realizing that we’re blocking the sidewalk on a busy intersection making out like teenagers, I force myself to break free, but I can’t help the goofy grin that covers my face.
“Wow,” I say, winded.
“Wow is right. I could stand here and do THAT all day,” he says, his face beaming.
“Navy Pier, Pier Park. Go now before we lose our train of thought, and I drag you back to my place, or yours, whichever is closest,” I say, trying to talk inner Mac out of her demands to drag him in the opposite direction. Inner Mac is feisty and always horny, thinking with her vagina first, and her brain a close second.
“Yes, let’s go,” he says, adjusting his pants ever so discretely so that his ‘happiness’ is not so visible to every Tom, Dick, and Harry walking past.
I can’t help but giggle at his predicament. I have to admit, when it comes to getting excited in public, women are a lot luckier than men.
“You think it’s funny that I have to walk three blocks with this hard on, and you look as unaffected as always.”
I turn into him, lifting myself up slightly to whisper in his ear, “I’m so far from being unaffected. I wish you knew how wet and ready I am right now.”
Daniel suddenly starts coughing, “Damn, Mac. So not helping things right now,” he says, his voice cracking.
I shrug my shoulders and smile. “At least I know that you are thinking about the same things as I am now.”
We reach the park about fifteen minutes later, our progress hindered by my sky high boots that my feet are now complaining to me about...a lot! Pier Park closed early for the night, scuttling our plans to take a few rides on the Ferris wheel. “Are your feet sore? Do you want to just take a slow walk around the pier?”
“Sounds good, but I’m gonna take these torture devices off my feet,” I say as I find a park bench and sit down, bending over to pull them off.
“Let me.”
He gets down on one knee and holds my ankle, unzipping the boots and sliding the first one off. He then starts rubbing his hands into my feet, kneading them firmly. I can’t stifle the moan that escapes me as I lean back against the bench and enjoy the blissful foot rub I’m currently being given.
“That feels so good,” I groan as he continues his massage. He then turns his attention to my other foot, his touch on my skin so light, yet his heat burns through me in a direct line to my now aching core. This is the most drawn out foreplay I’ve ever experienced, and I almost don’t want it to end.
Once he’s finished, he stands back on his feet, my super pretty boots in one hand while he pulls me up with the other. “Better?” he asks, kissing my temple.