Chapter 4 #2
Man, I am so hyped up and nervous, I could hurl.
I check myself over and think I look pretty decent.
Hopefully Sydney agrees. Before I leave the house, I pick a handful of daisies from Jenna’s little garden that I still keep up in her memory.
I don’t think she’d mind. My heart pounds as I ring the doorbell, hearing Sydney scramble down the stairs and holler that she’s on her way.
Blood whooshes in my ears, and the anticipation really kicks up a notch just knowing that she’s about to open that door any second.
It’s been eight years since I’ve been on a first date with zero clue as to what women’s expectations are these days.
I also wasn’t prepared for how damn gorgeous she was going to be when she opened the door.
My heart was no longer pounding but kicking behind my ribs, threatening to burst from my chest so that it could gladly lay at her feet.
If the smile on her face and the look in her eyes is any indication, she definitely likes what she sees.
The nervousness tamps down a tad, allowing me to smile. Damn, I can’t breathe.
I hand her the flowers, which are clearly a surprise to her, and tell her how beautiful she looks. I feel my pulse still hammering away, and the space around me suddenly feels ten degrees hotter. I tug on my collar. Shit man, you really gotta breathe. Stop freaking out!
Sydney opens the door wider to invite me in while she goes in search of a vase for the daisies.
Looking around, I could immediately see the difference in Sydney’s style of decorating from her grandmother’s.
Parts of the room are more modern, and the shelves are filled with newer books.
I walk along the shelving, browsing the spines.
Some titles I see I know for a fact Mabel wouldn’t have read.
I pick one up that has a Fabio looking dude on the front sweeping a woman off her feet and chuckle under my breath.
It was your typical romance. I remember fondly that Jenna often had her nose in a smut book or some sort of historical romance involving dukes and damsels in distress.
A small meow down by my feet distracts me from those thoughts.
Bitsy… I think that’s what Sydney had called her last night.
Well, Bitsy, all pound and a half to two pounds maybe if she’s sopping wet, is now rubbing up against my leg.
She certainly is a cute little fuzz ball, and if Sydney hadn’t chosen to take her home, I might’ve.
I think about picking her up but change my mind at the last second when I look down and remember my black shirt.
I settle for squatting down to give her a good head to tail rub with both of my hands.
When I look up, Sydney is leaning against the wall, studying me with a smirk.
Mmmm, I’d love to kiss her now, but it’s too soon. It will be happening though.
“She likes you. Are you ready to go? Just let me grab my clutch.” I stand, nodding my head and walk back to the door while little fuzz butt follows.
“No, Bitsy, you gotta stay,” Sydney snickers and tells the tiny fluff.
Bitsy vocalizes her protest with a little squeak as we step out the door and she locks it.
I lead her to my hunter green four-door Chevy truck and help her up into the truck.
The drive into town goes quickly since we chat about where we’re headed to eat.
I tell her that Hank’s may not be super fancy but is by far one of the best seafood restaurants in the area.
We are lucky enough to be seated on the outside deck with a gorgeous view of the ocean.
There’s only a slight breeze, but it’s refreshing.
Hanging lamps bathe us in a soft glow, and each table has small votives lit inside hurricanes for centerpieces.
They sure know how to set the mood lighting just right.
I order the crab legs while she orders the shrimp alfredo.
I catch myself staring while she twirls the noodles around her fork and slowly puts them in her mouth.
Occasionally, she licks her lips to make sure she doesn’t have any alfredo sauce on them, and man oh man, those lips promise wicked pleasure.
I’m thankful for the long table cloth because I am sporting some major wood.
By the end of dinner, Sydney is whole heartedly agreeing that this place and the food is utterly fantastic.
The whole drive back to her place, I struggle with conversation because all I can picture is her wrapping those lips around her straw and replacing the image with those lips naughtily wrapped around me.
Shit… I can’t even remember what a blowjob actually feels like.
My hand? Now that’s a different story. We’ve got a solid bond.
My stomach is tied in knots as I help her down from the truck and walk her up to the front door.
How should I kiss her? Short and sweet? No, I don’t want her to think I’m just being polite.
I want her. I can’t just dive in like a man starved though either.
Sydney’s pretty voice breaks me from my thoughts and saves me.
“Would you like to have a glass of wine on the patio with me?”
Oh yes, yes I would. My inner monologue and my dick both jump at the idea of spending some more time alone with her. I have to tell one to calm the fuck down.
“Absolutely. I’m just going to take my truck back home, let Amy out, then I’ll walk back over.”
“Ok, see you in a few,” Sydney answers with a smile and closes the door. I can hear her say something to Bitsy, who must have met her at the door, before scampering up the stairs, most likely to change her outfit.
I book it back to my place, let Amy out, and switch into flip flops and a casual gray v-neck tee.
I freshen up with some mouthwash and another smidge of deodorant in case my nerves messed with my sweat.
I’m taking no chances. Within ten minutes, I’m walking out the back door.
Being neighbors definitely has its advantages.
As I stroll along the sand toward her place, I catch myself imagining what our first kiss will be like.
Should I wait for her to make the first move, or should I take the upper hand?
With as much tension as is brewing between us, will I be able to control myself and deliver a slow, sweet kiss, or will this swirling sensation in my stomach overwhelm me and have me yanking her into my arms to kiss her fiercely to release all this pent up frustration?
I can see her now on the porch, wearing a pair of jeans and a navy blue tee that is a loose fitting layer over what looks like a white camisole.
Damn it, I better quit thinking about kissing her senseless, or I’m going to be walking up to her patio trying to mask a raging boner.
Sydney has already brought out two wine glasses. As I walk up the steps from the pathway, she asks, “Would you prefer red or white?”
I’d prefer you. I tell her red, taking the bottle and opener she has in her hand, allowing my fingers to graze hers.
I open and pour us each an ample amount while she runs the white back to the fridge.
Her breasts bounce as she walks back with a little pep in her step.
The sight has me losing all ability to think, the cork slipping out of my hands, bouncing and rolling off the table before I can catch it.
Sydney bends over to retrieve it, giving me an accidental peek of a white lace cupped breast. I gulp, mentally smacking my inner self across the face hard so he doesn’t do something stupid.
Instead, I settle for taking a healthy gulp of my wine in order to calm down, because that peek at her breasts just sent my blood pressure skyrocketing.
She’s tempting me in ways she has no idea of.
I absentmindedly wonder whether or not she’s wearing matching panties, or perhaps nothing at all.
Shit, shit, shit. I casually lay my ankle across the opposite knee in order to hide the bulge painfully pressing against my zipper, hoping that she doesn’t notice. I’m gonna die if I don’t kiss her soon.
???
Sydney
Man, he looks so damn sexy sitting there all relaxed.
Before Colin walked back over, I switched into a cute little outfit, rebrushed my teeth, and spritzed my wrists and neck again lightly with my gardenia perfume.
By the time I’d finished, grabbed the wine from the fridge, and walked outside, he was climbing up the steps.
Now here we are, sipping on our wine, merely enjoying the sight of one another, but this time the silence isn’t awkward.
No, it’s just plain steamy. Mirroring my thoughts it seems, Colin leans his body in closer to talk from where he sits.
“You know, I feel as if I’ve known you forever. I can’t remember the last time I sat in silence, comfortably drinking a glass of wine with a woman.”
If I lean my body in like he’s doing right now, we’d be close enough to touch lips.
It must’ve also crossed his mind because right now he’s glancing toward my lips…
my throat…then finally back up to my eyes.
All I can do is shiver, and it’s not because I’m cold.
No, my insides feel like they’re straight up on fire.
This man in front of me sears my senses down to my very core, turning my insides into molten lava.
So instead of replying, I throw caution to the wind and lean in to meet his lips with the softest caress.
It brings a small smile to his lips against mine.
He pulls back an inch or so to look me in the eyes, and what I see is my undoing.
He looks hungry, like he wants to devour me until his every desire is fulfilled.
That hungry look still holds a presence of control, like a wall holding something back, some hidden emotion.
I figure he’s a little hesitant because of Jenna, which makes sense if Ava’s right and he hasn’t dated much over the past several years.
I’m willing to take the challenge of tearing down those walls one by one.