Chapter 8 Matt
EIGHT
MATT
Holding in my nervous, excited energy, I press the call button for Jake’s apartment.
I’m sure dinner will go well. We had such a great time on Tuesday, and we’ve been texting pretty regularly since.
My nerves are more that I hope I haven’t imagined how well that date went, or how much Jake was into me.
Because I really like him, and if he’s just killing time, I’ll be very disappointed.
“Matt?”
“Yeah. It’s me.”
“Come on up. Second floor, number 240.” There’s a buzzing and the loud click of the security door unlocking.
I grab the handle and yank it open, heading for the elevators.
He sounded happy. Maybe even excited? I mash the call button, and the doors open.
Nervously excited, I rush inside, jab the number two, and impatiently wait for the doors to close and the elevator to rise one floor.
I should have taken the stairs. As the metal doors slide open again, I take a deep breath and try to get control over the butterflies in my stomach.
I’ve been on a ton of dates. Why am I so worked up about this one?
A door down the hall opens and Jake steps out, grinning like a five-year-old in a toy store. “Hey.”
I grin, most likely looking equally ridiculous. “Hey.”
He gestures for me to hurry, and I pick up my pace, following him inside.
We enter right into the kitchen area, which transitions directly into the living room.
I glance around, taking it all in. The apartment is modern but still warm, with beautiful art prints on the walls.
Everything is in browns, blacks, and tans, and the place has a nice lived-in feeling, not the bachelor-first-apartment vibe I was kind of expecting.
Jake takes the bags from my hands and sets them on the counter.
“I’m sorry. I promised myself I’d have some restraint and not jump you the minute you walked through the door, but I’m tossing that out the window.
” He barely finishes speaking before his arms slip around my waist and we’re kissing.
Without hesitating, I slide my arms around him and eagerly lean in to the kiss.
His lips are soft but demanding. I let him take whatever he wants as he walks me backward.
I get two paces before I bump into a wall.
His hands slide up my chest, shoving my coat off my shoulders, and I let go of his hips so it drops onto the floor.
With a moan, he presses his entire torso against me.
Things only ramp up from there, with our hands desperately roaming and groping as our mouths devour each other.
I reach for his zipper, but a very loud meow interrupts us.
It’s followed immediately by a headbutt to my shin.
Laughing, Jake steps away, cheeks flushed and eyes dark.
“Sorry.” His grin says he’s anything but. “That got out of hand fast.”
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and grin. “We definitely have chemistry.” I glance down at an absolutely beautiful Maine Coon rubbing against my shins. “Hello, Tiara. It’s very nice to meet you.”
Jake snags my jacket from the floor before Tiara can get to it. “Sorry. I could at least have taken your coat from you first.” He opens a closet behind me and hangs it up. “And yes, this is Tiara, queen of the house. And seriously, where are my manners? Can I get you something to drink?”
“Sure.” I gesture to the bags on the counter.
“I have a cabernet. Hope that’s okay. And dessert should go into the refrigerator.
It’s a strawberry shortcake cake. And yes, that’s really what it’s called.
” After some back-and-forth texts this week about food preferences and allergies, we finally settled on a menu of filet mignon, sweet potatoes, and asparagus.
I committed to bringing one bottle of red wine and one dessert, since we both like to limit our intake of both.
He takes the items out of the bags and puts the cake into the fridge. “Cab is perfect.” He hands me a corkscrew. “Would you do the honors? I’ll grab the glasses.”
He opens a cupboard, pressing up on his toes to reach the wineglasses.
It gives me an absolutely stunning view of his perfect ass, cradled lovingly in a pair of form-fitting jeans.
I’m also treated to a glimpse of his delectable torso as his soft pink sweater rides up on the right side.
I’m already sporting a semi thanks to his enthusiastic welcome, and the vision in front of me isn’t making the situation any less pronounced.
He turns around, two glasses in hand, and grins as he catches me adjusting myself. “Problem?”
“Nope. Hopefully it’s more of a delayed opportunity.”
His eyes sparkle. “Perhaps I can help you with that after dinner.”
“Yes, please.” Jesus, I’m like a horny eighteen-year-old again. All I want to do is touch the pretty man. Okay, that’s not all I want to do, but it’s definitely where I’d like to start. Instead, I open the wine.
Jake gestures to the living room. “Why don’t we sit for a minute before I start cooking?
Dinner will only take twenty minutes to make.
” He grabs a covered wooden platter and carries it and the two wine glasses to the coffee table.
I grab the wine and follow, sitting next to him on the sofa.
Tiara follows close behind, climbing onto the back of the sofa to drape herself behind Jake.
He gives her scritches and strokes her fur.
“I’m no wine connoisseur, so skip the letting it breathe part, if you want.
I won’t be able to tell the difference.”
I laugh because neither would I. “Then I don’t feel at all bad telling you that the guy at the store picked this out. I’m clueless about wine. I’m clueless about most alcohol. It’s just never been an important part of my life.” I pour the cabernet into the glasses and hand him one.
“Same. It’s nice, but not necessary. And most of the time, I don’t care for how it makes me feel the next day. I end up drinking a trough of water just to feel human again.”
“There’s no obligation to drink this if you’d rather not.”
He rests his hand on my forearm, and that small touch lights up my whole body. He’s like a magnet, and I want to lean in and kiss him senseless. Laughing, he clears his throat, snapping my attention away from his mouth and back to his eyes. “I would like one glass. We’ll reassess after that.”
“That’s fair.”
He uncovers the wooden platter, revealing a beautifully presented charcuterie board full of various cheeses, grapes, dried fruits, crackers, and nuts. “Here, help yourself.”
“That’s a meal all by itself.”
Jake hands me a small plate and a napkin. “Yes, but don’t fill up. Be sure to leave room for the filet.”
My stomach growls and I grin. “Absolutely. I love red meat.”
He waggles his eyebrows at me teasingly.
“Just so you know, I am under strict instructions to report back to Lee tomorrow and give her all the details of our date.” At my raised eyebrows, he laughs.
“She says since she’s painfully single, she needs to date vicariously through us.
But don’t worry. I won’t spill all the details.
” He winks. “She doesn’t need to know about the kiss that almost melted my pants off at the door.
” Laughing, he takes a sip of his wine. “Okay, maybe she can know about the kiss, just not the pants-melting part.”
“That’s a great plan.” I sip my wine and put some cheese and grapes on my plate, nibbling as we talk.
Jake is so easy to be around. He’s smart, funny, and scorchingly hot.
“I’ve been told by Charlie that I need to report back on dinner.
Like, the actual meal. Is it any wonder that the man is single?
He definitely doesn’t have his priorities straight. ”
That makes Jake laugh. “To each his own. Though I’ll admit I’ve had a few food items in my mouth that have been almost orgasmic experiences.”
Snorting, I cover my mouth with the back of my hand so bits don’t fall out. “I see how you specified food items.”
We tease back and forth, chatting for a while, and it’s nice.
There’s still a noticeable current of attraction in the air, but our conversation is relaxed, and fun.
Eventually, Jake stands up and offers me his hand.
“Come on. Let’s make dinner. Or, I’ll make dinner and you can keep me company.
” He glances at Tiara and picks up the half-empty charcuterie board.
“None for you, miss.” She stares at him, thwapping her tail against the sofa as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to her.
We move to the kitchen area, and Tiara opts to stay on the back of the couch, but she’s scrutinizing us.
Or maybe she’s just fixated on the food.
I sit on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island and watch Jake prep sweet potatoes and put them in the microwave, but he doesn’t turn it on.
Then he tosses the asparagus into a frying pan, but the heat stays off as well.
He sets a cast-iron skillet on the gas stove and fires up the burner, allowing the pan to heat up for several minutes. “You’ve made this before, obviously.”
“It’s one of my favorite meals. I’ve made it at least a hundred times.
The entire key to the prep is timing. I have the oven preheated so no need to work that into the equation, and I’ve washed the asparagus and sweet potatoes already.
The vegetables take about the same amount of time to cook, so I need to get the steaks into the oven before I start those or they’ll get soggy and sad before the filets are finished. ”
He preps the filets and pan-fries them, then puts the whole thing into the oven.
Spinning to his right, he hits the start button on the microwave, and turns on the heat under the asparagus.
Fifteen minutes later, we’re sitting at the kitchen island with full glasses of wine and a beautifully prepared meal waiting to be consumed.
“Jake, this looks and smells incredible.”
“Wait until you taste it.” He cuts into his filet and pops a bite into his mouth, closing his eyes and smiling as he chews.
Not wanting to wait any longer, I cut my own filet and take a bite.
“Oh, my god!” I don’t normally talk with my mouth full, but the steak is that incredible.
“It’s practically melting in my mouth.” I moan happily as I take another bite, this time of a piece of asparagus.
The taste combination is perfection, and we both spend several minutes giving the meal the attention it deserves.
Conversation eventually resumes and we chat about music and movies, and never hit an awkward pause or an unnecessary lull.
Eventually our plates are empty, and I get up, rolling up the sleeves on my red dress shirt—my own contribution to honoring Valentine’s Day. “Let me clean up since you cooked.”
The shock on his face is comical. “Excuse me?”
“That’s only fair. And it’s not like you’ve left a lot of things to clean. Two wine glasses and two pans. Everything else can go in the dishwasher.”
Jake holds up both hands. “Far be it from me to stand between a man and my dishes.” He laughs and gets up. “How about I load the dishwasher and you can wash the glasses and pans?”
“Deal. And before you ask, I do know how to clean a cast-iron skillet properly. No submerging it in soapy water, and it should be re-oiled after it dries on the burner.”
He leans in and kisses my lips. “Very few things are sexier than a man who knows how to clean properly.”
I snort. “I can think of a few other things.”
“You’d be wrong.” He laughs and rinses off the plates before loading them into the dishwasher. By the time he’s done wiping off the counters, I’m finished too. “So—” Jake takes the dish towel from my hands and hangs it on the oven door handle. “The question is, dessert now or later?”
I put my hands on his hips and pull him closer. “I think you mean, do we want dessert now, or dessert now.”
His arms slide over my shoulders and his fingers slip into my hair. “Yes. That is what I meant. I vote for the second one first.”
His gaze drops to my lips as he licks his own, and it’s all I can do not to chase it with my tongue. “Just to be sure we’re on the same page, by the second one, you mean sex.”
“Yes. And by sex, I mean fully naked. Are you into penetration? Not everyone is, and that’s fine. But if you are, do you top or bottom?”
I love that he’s so sex-positive, and not afraid to ask for what he wants. My ever-grateful cock throbs as my hands grip his hips a little tighter. “I am very much into penetrative sex, though I’m also into lots of other variations as well. And I’m verse.”
Jake steps into me, grinding his cock against my thigh. “Good. Because I want you to fuck me please.”
The immediate and intense ache in my cock forces a soft moan from my lips. I grasp his hips and haul him against me, trying to get even a little relief. “Strict bottom?”
He shakes his head. “Not at all. But I’ve been imagining how you’ll feel inside me, and I want that tonight. If that’s okay.”
“Jesus.” I groan and grab his ass with both hands, lifting him up on his toes until our cocks grind together. “Fuck yes. Bedroom?”
He gestures over his shoulder. “Down the hall. First door on your right.” I lift him up, and he wraps his legs around my waist. I carry him to his bedroom, and once we’re inside, he kicks the door shut. “We don’t need Tiara joining us.”
Laughing, I drop him into the middle of his very large, very comfortable-looking king-size bed. “Agreed.”