Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
B
Somehow, even after telling him several times that I don't do this, Kass convinced me to go on a date with him.
Well, he's calling it a date. I'm not. I'm just playing along like a normal person until I can get him alone and get in his pants, because let's be honest, that's what he really wants anyway.
I rarely break my “no dates” rule, especially with men, but I’m so set on getting this man in my pants that I caved.
I reminded myself that some people need to get to know someone a little better before bumping their genitals together.
Maybe he’s one of them. Either way, regardless of what he has planned for today, it’s ending with me in his pants, if I have anything to say about it.
I walk through the doors and shake off the chill from the crisp air outside. A week in California was enough to make me not want to come back to this freezing cold state. But alas, Minnesota has my heart and will always somehow pull me back here from the beautiful places I travel to for work.
I look around and spot him on his phone in a corner. I walk over, and he must hear the clumping sound of my Doc Martins as I approach because he looks up with a smile on his face, as if he already knows who's approaching him without even looking.
"I'm starting to think you being late is a chronic condition."
I roll my eyes at Kass, annoyed that he's already calling me on my bullshit when we barely know each other. "I'm less than ten minutes late. That doesn't even count. Plus, it's not like they have a strict reservation time here."
I'm not sure why he chose the Minneapolis Institute of Art. I pictured a drink at a bar, then back to his place sort of a date. But here we are.
There is one way I know to spice up this non-date. Let's just hope he's game.
"You ready to go in?" He puts his hand on my back as if to usher me in.
If I didn't enjoy the contact so much, I'd swat his hand away. "Wait. I've got something for you."
With one hand on the door, he looks down at me, one eyebrow cocked up higher than the other.
I pull my hand out of my purse, holding a small plastic bag, covered in a colorful design. "You want one?" I hold it up so he can read the label.
"You want to get high before we go in?"
"Technically, I'm already high. I took one before I came. But I brought some with me in case you want to join me. They're pretty fast-acting."
He thinks about it for a second, which makes me nervous. I was hoping for an enthusiastic, immediate yes.
"Sure, why not. I don't have any appointments today."
Right. I guess it's probably not a good idea for him to drag a rapidly vibrating needle machine across someone's skin when he's high. I erase the quick judgment I formed at his hesitation. He's just being responsible, something I forget other adults have to do at their big kid jobs.
"One or two?"
"Let's just start with one."
I pull one out of the bag and hold it up to his mouth—a mouth I'm dying to taste. His lips graze the tips of my fingers as he takes the gummy from me.
He places his hand on the small of my back again as we leave the heated entryway and enter the main building.
Admission is free here, so we don't have to do the awkward song-and-dance about who's paying.
It's one of the many reasons I hate dating and why I rarely do it.
And when I do actually date, it's never with serious intentions.
"So, do you bring all your first dates here? Is this some sort of weird psychological test?" I catch myself, needing to make myself perfectly clear to him. "Not that this is a date or anything."
"It's not?" He seems more teasing than offended, which is refreshing.
"I told you, I don't really do the whole dating thing."
"Because...?"
"Because it's pointless. I don't plan on settling down and starting a family any time soon—if ever—so why pretend?"
"Dating doesn't have to be about finding someone to settle down with. It can just be fun."
"Thank you!" I throw my arms out, palms facing the ceiling.
I guess my volume isn’t museum-appropriate because it's earning me a nasty look from some Karen running a field trip on the other side of the hallway.
"Finally, someone else gets it. I mean, for fuck's sake, I'm only 24. This is the prime of my life. Why waste it on men who are probably just going to fuck me over anyway?"
Realizing what I just said, I glance over at him to make sure I didn't hurt his ego too badly. His face looks a little pained, but mostly amused.
"Ouch. Who hurt you?"
"No one. Obviously, not all men are like that. I've just seen it happen to women in my life, more times than I care to witness. I made a no-dating philosophy to avoid all of that drama."
"You sure no one broke your heart?" He nudges me with his elbow.
"You'd have to be in love to have your heart broken. Like I said, I avoid that at all costs."
"To each their own, I guess."
We walk a few more steps, looking at the exhibits around us.
"You're only 24?"
"Yeah. Didn't you read that on the forms I filled out?"
"I don't really look at that stuff too closely."
"You weren't curious at all?"
"Not really. I figured you were younger than me by a few years just based on observation, but I didn't really care about a specific number."
"How old are you?"
"28. Why? Does that matter to you even though this isn't a date?"
"Not really. Just curious. I've been with people much older and much younger than you."
"People?"
"Very observant."
"Does that mean multiple genders or multiple people at once? Just curious."
"Both," I say.
He licks his lips. The timing is likely a coincidence, but it does make me want to know what those big, soft lips would feel like on mine. And now I'm extra horny thinking about sharing those lips with someone else.
"Nice."
That's all he has to say about that?
"Does that intimidate you?"
"Not in the slightest."
"Confident, are you?"
"Not necessarily confident. I just don't care what other people do within their own sex lives."
"I knew I liked you." I wink at him, our eyes having been locked on each other for most of this conversation.
We break eye contact and look around, realizing we've just been wandering around the main hallway. "I think we need to go up the stairs."
"Right. I'm assuming you've been here before?"
"Who hasn't. Pretty sure it's a mandatory field trip destination for every elementary school." I start heading for the stairs to the upper levels, and he follows me.
"I meant because of your job, but yeah, I came here as a kid too."
"How do you—" I start to ask.
"You talked about it during our session."
"Oh. Right." I was too focused on him touching me and the sting of the needle to remember what exactly we all talked about. "My job deals with collectible modern art, not really the kind of stuff that ends up in museums like this."
"Tell me more."
I tell him about the work I do with Daniel and the types of pieces we acquire for our unique customer base.
And he listens, asking occasional follow-up questions.
At some point in the Asian art exhibit, he tells me his gummy kicked it.
We spend the next thirty or so minutes walking through the twists and turns of this place.
"I'm pretty sure we're lost," he finally admits.
"Oh, thank god. I thought it was just me."
"No, this place is confusing as hell."
"The gummies probably don't help either."
"Definitely not." He spins around in a circle once, twice, three times, and I can't help but laugh at him.
"You look like a dog chasing its tail."
He stops spinning and faces me. "Now that sounds like an interesting name for a painting. Maybe you should recommend that to one of your artist friends and make them pay you when it sells for big bucks."
I step toward him, a smirk on my face. "Oh, is that how you think that works?"
Now he takes a step toward me. "Maybe."
"Maybe that should be my next tattoo." I move another step closer.
He closes what little space is left between us with one long step. "Where would you get it?"
He's so close I can feel his breathing getting heavier.
"Your ass?"
"Already have one there," I say with a straight face.
"Mmmm. Now that I've got to see." His hand ghosts up and down my arm, and goose bumps scatter over my skin.
KASS
We only lasted ten more minutes at the museum before we were ready to rip each other’s clothes off right in that Asia exhibit, school children be damned. I’d blame the edibles, but with the sexual tension building between us during her appointment, this was bound to happen.
My tattoo shop is only a couple of blocks away, so I offered to take her there.
My original plan was to convince her to get a drink with me after this, then maybe head back to my place after, but she practically dragged me back here.
Not that I was resisting; she just moved a little faster than I did.
I lock the front door behind us and rush over to where she's frantically taking off her coat.
I grab the shoulders to help her and pull them down her arms. She turns around and wraps her arms around my neck.
"So, where are we doing this? A chair? This couch?
" His eyes glance down at the small sofa in the waiting area.
"Since I do value infection control in my shop and the fact that this couch is right in front of a massive window, it's going to have to be my office."
"Great." She jumps, and I instinctively grab under her legs to catch her. She wraps them around me, and I hold her ass, one hand on each cheek, as I walk back toward my office.
She kisses and sucks my neck, occasionally nipping at my skin with her teeth. I love the way her ass fills up my hands. B isn't some petite little thing. That's never been my type. B's got curves in all the right places, and I can't wait to devour her, to put my hands all over her.
I fiddle with the office door until it opens. Luckily, I forgot to lock it yesterday. I walk in and set B down on my relatively clean desk. There's a small couch in the room, but it doesn't allow for the best angles.