:oP NeverMind
I wasn't surprised that Danny called me that night.
"You dating my boss now?" he asked after our initial hellos. Talk about cutting to the chase.
I just scoffed. "It's your business?"
He hesitated. "No, I was just hoping…"
"Danny Messer, don't you go acting like my boyfriend now. Just because you've kissed me a few times doesn't mean I've handed over the deed," I chastised him.
"Are you trying to play the player? That's dangerous water, my girl."
"Hey, it's been four years since I've 'played' anyone. Don't begrudge me my freedom. Besides, I think it's only fair that I flirt with your boss what with you getting me all riled up all the time and leaving me wanting."
"Oh, so that was payback, was it?"
"Maybe."
"Well maybe I'll have to rectify that situation then."
"Maybe you should."
"Can I take you out for dinner tomorrow then?"
"Only if you let me drive."
"Wouldn't have it any other way. Pick me up at 7:00?"
"Sounds good. I assume Aiden knows how to get to your place?"
"She should. But, uh, leave her at home, will you? I'm sick of her."
I laughed. "Sounds good to me."
The next day, I went and bought a new outfit from Dolce and Gabbana – a flirty skirt and a funky long-sleeved shirt on which the collar went off one shoulder. The gay guy who sold it to me insisted that I looked very sexy in it. Now how would he know? I couldn't help but wonder.
When I finished primping and came out for my big 'reveal' for Aiden, she gave out a low whistle and shook her head at me. "That's hot," she said, in her best imitation of Paris Hilton. "You will not leave this man unconquered, will you?"
"Hey, you started it."
"Yeah, I suppose I did. I never intended for you to flirt with my boss, though," she said.
"Come on, Aiden, you told me yourself that if he weren't your boss you'd find him attractive."
"I know, but that was before I got to know him. He's like a father figure to me."
"Yeah, well I think your dad is an attractive older man too," I came back.
"For Pete's sake, must you gross me out like that?"
I just gave her a wicked smile. "Don't worry, hun, I have no intentions of putting the moves on your father or your boss."
"You know, I don't remember you being this self-assured when it came to men when we were in college."
"I wasn't. Why do you think I settled on Jake? You don't like the new me?"
"Oh, I like her all right. I just wish she'd come out a little sooner so we could play the game together."
"We did play the game together, remember? I just sat and watched the last time. Now it's your turn to do the same."
"I guess."
I took her hands and looked her square in the eye. "Look, I'm not going to sleep with every man that you know here. I might sleep with your partner, but that would be it. I'm not gonna stoop to Jake's level, I swear."
"I know," she said. "I just wish Danny had a hot friend for me to play with."
"Maybe he does. You want me to ask him?"
She grinned. "If you feel so inclined."
I kissed her cheek and gave myself one last look in the mirror before grabbing my purse and my keys off the side table. "Wish me luck."
"You won't need it."
I thought I had Danny Messer figured out. Eat, sleep, sex, right? I hadn't counted on romantic in that mix. When I got to his apartment, I knocked on the door and fully expected him to slide out without even letting me see his place. I was very wrong. He swung the door wide open and invited me in. He was dressed in a gray linen button down shirt and well cut, faded black jeans. After closing the door behind me, he gave me a long, sensual look over that almost convinced me to forego any conversation and get to the good part.
"I couldn't get reservations at the restaurant I wanted, so I thought we'd eat in," he said, indicating the neatly set table on his balcony.
"Someone's been watching way too many chick flicks," I murmured with a half-smile. "Do I get the grand tour or do I have to wait until you get me drunk so I won't remember anything?"
He laughed – I really liked his laugh – and walked me through the place. Even though it was a bachelor pad, he'd still gone to some effort to make it pretty classy. He was obviously a collector of baseball memorabilia; there were glass-encased, yellowing baseballs with fading signatures in every one of the rooms. He also had a few jerseys of some of his favorite players framed and hanging on the walls. Old bats served as decoration around his fireplace, and an old, worn glove rested on the mantle. His furniture was very Earnest Hemmingway – rich, leathery and comfortable in a variety of browns and blacks.
"You work in a place like CSI and you need somewhere to come home to, you know?" he told me in answer to my unasked question.
"I like it," I told him sincerely. "It's comfortable."
He took me out to the balcony and pulled a chair out for me. Very chivalrous. "Now, don't laugh at me, but I had to call my mom to figure out what to cook you. So if it's bad it's my fault, not hers."
"Well, I haven't eaten all day, so I'm sure whatever you've made will be the best thing I've ever tasted," I assured him.
He retreated into the apartment and I clasped my hands in my lap because they were shaking so hard. This guy was really, really good. It's a good thing I'd already made up my mind not to resist him much tonight. One has to resist a little, of course, or else the other person might lose interest.
He came back with oysters of all things. I couldn't help but laugh. "You think we need aphrodisiacs?"
"A little extra insurance can't hurt," he grinned.
I raised an oyster shell to him in a toast. "You don't need any help, trust me."
He raised a shell back at me and we slurped down the slimy treats.
I had to be really careful not to eat too much. Everything was so ridiculously good; from the oysters to the ragout to the chocolate mousse cake (which he had to admit that he'd bought), I was in heaven. And thoroughly impressed.
"I'm thoroughly impressed," I told him.
"The food was okay?"
"The food, the atmosphere, the company, everything. I don't think anyone has ever spoiled me like this."
"What? I find that hard to believe."
"Sad but true. Jake was a little too self-obsessed to think much about me."
"Well, this is a Jake-free-zone. Let me spoil him right out of your system."
I lolled my head back on the chair and smiled lazily. I didn't know if it was the wine or if he'd drugged my food, but I was completely relaxed.
"My friend, if you spoil all your women like this, I'm amazed you're still single."
He shrugged. "I'm good at the first part of a relationship. Once you hit that turning point where you have to start being serious about everything, I start shutting down."
"Hmm. I hear ya. It's a good thing we'll never have more than the first part of a relationship."
He gave me a queer look. "Is there a right response to that statement?" he wanted to know.
"Nah, just an observation is all."
We fell into a lazy conversation that meandered back and forth across various parts of each of our lives. I noticed that he always quickly changed the subject every time we got close to his late teenage years, but I ignored it because I was unwilling to spoil the pleasantness of this night. Besides which, this was still part of the 'first part' of a relationship, so there was no prerequisite for divulging all of one's secrets.
As the evening wore on, the temperature started to drop. We were sitting with our legs half entwined and at one point his hand brushed against my bare leg.
"You have goosebumps. Are you cold?"
I grinned sadistically. "Among other things," I admitted.
His smirk deepened and he stood to help me up.
"I guess I don't need these anymore," I said, indicating my strappy stilettos. "Unless you're into the stilettos-with-everything look."
He laughed. "Nah. I actually have a fear of being impaled by one of those."
I could feel him watching me as I bent down to take off my shoes. I wondered what other surprises he might have in store for me or if dinner was as creative as he would get.
I stretched out my calves – I'm definitely not one of those women who wears heels all the time. If I could go barefoot everywhere, I would.
And that's when I saw it. It was tucked underneath a table and I had missed it during my previous inspection of the place. I reached down to pull it out of hiding.
"You play?" I asked, indicating the guitar I'd found.
I was surprised by his embarrassed reaction. This guy who had been so confident about everything up to this point couldn't even look me in the eye now.
"A little," he shrugged. "I'm just learning."
"Play me something?"
"Nah…I'm really not that good," he tried to resist me, but I sat him down on the couch and put the guitar on his lap.
"Humor me," I grinned. "I promise it won't affect the outcome of this night. Besides, I have a fetish for guys who play guitar."
He relented and began strumming the instrument. He started playing the riff of one of my favorite songs, "Crash" by the Dave Matthews Band.
"Mm, I love this song," I murmured, letting the wine, the song and him go to my head. I watched his fingers gently stroke the guitar, manipulating it to make the sounds he wanted. The tip of his tongue was visible between his lips as he concentrated on putting his fingers on the right strings on the neck. I've never wanted to be a guitar so bad in my life.
And when I just couldn't take it anymore, I pulled the guitar out of his hands and straddled his lap myself.
"My turn," I grinned, leaning in to kiss him. He kissed me back, slow and deep, taking his time with me. This was almost worse than the intense, barely restrained passion from before. My whole body was taut with anticipation.
"What happened to the cocky confidence?" I asked, as he kissed my neck.
"All part of the plan," was all he would say.
I pulled away from him and grinned at his quizzical expression. "Don't worry. This is the part where I'm only pulling away to get out of my clothes."
He chuckled and helped me out of my shirt. I unbuttoned his and from there… well, I'll let you fill in the rest. Suffice it to say… he didn't leave me unsatisfied this time.