Normally, I bolted after hookups. Yeah, yeah, I know how totally unromantic that must sound, but even those hookups with women weren’t supposed to be about romance. They were about sex, plain and simple. No strings attached. The encounter between Zane and me… I’m not ready to go there yet.
Let’s talk about practical matters first.
I couldn’t bolt because the hookup happened at my house, but I can’t make excuses. I didn’t tell him to put his clothes back on and hit the road either. Worse, Zane didn’t freak, didn’t hyperventilate, and didn’t run naked into the street because he’d felt too panic-stricken to dress first. Oh no. You know what he did?
He fell asleep!
Seriously. I told him how great he was (Ick! I doubt I would’ve said anything so vile while in my right mind) and Iheard him sawing logs. I would’ve gotten dressed and excused myself to the next room but… I wanted to stay there. I wanted to hold him and drink up every moment of physical contact together. I never wanted to mop his come off of my body.
Nothing unusual about that, right?
Anyway, when he woke up, he strolled naked around the place like he felt right at home. No, more like he was King Fucking Shit. He could’ve mistaken my home for a locker room, sure, but I knew there was more to it than that. He felt so proud after the fucking he gave me; I saw it in his shit-eating grin.
Since we’re still on the topic of sex with Zane Hirst, let me say I knew we would have to discuss what happened sooner than later. That would mean talking to him again. If I could’ve avoided even that, we wouldn’t have slept together in the first place.
What an ordeal!
He texted me the next day. At least he was gentleman enough for that. Even better, he didn’t make a single dumbass comment about me applying an ice pack to my rear end after the royal plowing I took from him. I responded by telling him we needed to talk—in person.
Oh God, that would mean seeing him again. Seeing him again meant another look into those eyes. Another look into those eyes would remind me of everything that happened last night.
We agreed to meet at Spot Coffee on Elmwood Avenue, a neutral spot. No chance we would tear off our clothes and start fucking in the middle of a café.
I grabbed a table near the window. When I saw Zane across the street by the 7-11, I crossed myself. Don’t laugh. I really did it. I wish I’d brought a cross and garlic while I was at it.
I tensed all over and then reminded myself there would be no chance of sex at Spot Coffee. If I could stick to that, maybe I would be okay.
Really, I wanted to tell him that what happened last night couldn’t have an encore performance. In fact, I rehearsed everything I planned to say, committing it to memory.
Zane breezed through the door and then turned, spotting me at the table. He smiled and waved. God help me, I waved back. He looked so incredible that I wanted to get this over with while I still possessed the free will to do it. Instead of heading straight to my table, he approached the counter to grab a coffee.
Dammit to hell!I thought. It seemed like Zane did that purposely to ratchet up my tension levels because, well, he was Zane Hirst.
Finally, he approached my table, wearing a beaming smile that corroded more of my willpower. When he sat across from me, I could barely breathe.
“You’re looking pretty good,” he said.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Zane froze like I’d slapped him across the face. Customers at nearby tables turned to stare like I’d dropped a stack of dishes.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “That totally came out wrong.”
“Yeesh, I hope so. I only meant to say that you look healthy and in shape, not…”
What happened last night can never happen again,I thought.It was a huge mistake.
I’d rehearsed that and several other lines, fully prepared to unleash them on Zane. I’m surprised I didn’t pelt the Remington Riptide before he even had the chance to sit down.
“What are you drinking?” he asked and then spotted the vacant space before me. “You still haven’t ordered yet? What are you having? My treat.”
Oh yes, another treat, like the meaty cock he’d fed to me last night. I couldn’t strike that from my memory, no matter how hard I tried.
Zane was half-way out of his chair when he finished his sentence. I grabbed his wrist and pulled him back, amazed at how casually I could now touch him.
“Hold on,” I said. “There’s something I need to talk to you about and I feel like I’ll explode if I don’t.”
Zane looked like I was about to drop an earth-shattering announcement on him, which I was in my own way.
