Blind Date Teddy Bear

“Right. Your dad was saying that.”

“We can have a drink at my place.”

He glanced over at me, his face lit by the dashboard lights. “Your parents won’t mind?”

“I won’t tell them.” I gave him my flirty smile.

“Your hair looks damn good.”

At the mention of the word damn, my pulse began to race. I remembered him saying damn as I’d sucked on him, and damn when we’d had sex. That word was really ringing my bell.

I’d enjoyed kissing him and having him kiss me all over my body with the beard, but now that he was clean-shaven, I was dying to feel his skin on mine.

I stared at him as he drove. He was a good driver. He glanced over at me with his orange-brown eyes, still bright even in the dim vehicle interior. We were going to my house. I thought about him holding me in his strong arms, and I didn’t care that I didn’t know where we stood with each other, I just melted.

* * *

He wanted scotch.

Of course.

Luckily, my father is also a man’s man, and we had a good bottle of the stuff, or so I’d been told.

I poured a little for each of us, into tumblers, and we sat in the TV room, where less than a week earlier I’d inhabited the same couch and bawled my eyes out that this date wouldn’t happen. And yet, there we were. Life is funny that way.

I said, “Has Nikki been giving you a hard time at the office?”

He sipped the amber liquid. “I don’t think so. She’s a hard worker, and very responsible.”

“I mean about me.” I nudged his thigh with my knee and moved in closer. I wasn’t going to sleep with him, not again, but we could kiss. Kissing would be nice.

“Oh, that. Yes, she did. She reamed me a new ass**le that I didn’t call you before you called me.”

I stared into my drink, unsure if I wanted to know the answer, but I asked anyway, because life is short and it’s better when you speak your heart. “And why didn’t you call me?”

He shifted his position on the couch next to me. “I don’t know.”

“Why did you rush me out of your place the morning after?”

“I don’t …” He leaned forward and put his face in his hands briefly. “Damn, can’t we get to this after a few drinks?” He sat up and turned to me, his warm brown eyes sad-looking.

I said, “Did I do something to upset you?”

He shook his head, no.

I thought back to what he’d said about movie trailers not being like movies. “Am I your first date since your divorce?”

“Yes.”

I squeezed his leg. “I don’t bite. You can talk to me.”

He took an audible, deep breath. “Talk. Right. I remember that one from my wife. Talk, talk, talk. Talk about your feelings.” He turned and gave me the sweetest look. “I’m great at talking when it comes to business, but not with relationships.”

“Who says? Your ex?”

He nodded.

“I saw her photo on your phone. I didn’t say anything at the time, but would you say she looks … just a little … like me?”

I braced myself for the worst.

He faced me, pain flickering across his face. “A little. But I’m getting to see you now. When I look at you, I see Naomi.” He stroked me on the cheek.

“Do you like being here with me?”

He took another sip of his scotch, then set it on the coffee table.

“I do. I really like it.”

“So, let me get this straight. It’s the talking that makes you nervous, but not the other stuff.”

He chuckled. “The other stuff is great. I mean, damn. It’s great. And I do like talking to you. You’re a good listener, and you’re interesting, and you have such a pretty laugh, and … am I boring you?”

“No, but I’m wondering if you’re ever going to kiss me.”

He took the glass of scotch from my hand, set it next to his on the coffee table and leaned in to kiss me on the lips, softly. As I kissed him back, he reached his arms around me, and in a flash, he had me picked up and was standing.

I wrapped my legs and arms around him, holding on tight.

He carried me back out of the TV room and down the hall, to my bedroom. I’d given him a quick tour when we’d entered the house, so he knew where it was.

He lay me down on my bed and stretched out alongside me, and we kissed, entwining our hands in each other’s hair, for ages and ages. My desire for him grew stronger, but it was a comfort, the pang in my loins. Reassuring.

Finally, when we could wait no longer, we slowly undressed each other. I’d sworn I wouldn’t sleep with him, but I couldn’t remember why, so I forgot all about that resolution. He checked that I was on birth control and apologized for not asking sooner. I kissed him to remind him we need not be talking.

With our clothes off, he ran his hands over my hot skin, and he kissed every inch of me.

I returned the favor, and when I had his shaft in my hand, he guided my lower body and turned me completely around, so I was facing his knees, straddling his chest. I felt exposed and self-conscious, but not for long.

The head of his c**k tasted just as good as I remembered, and I licked it and sucked it, enjoying every second. Behind me, he adjusted the pillows on my bed, propping up his head. He put his hands on my h*ps and nudged me down. He used his elbows to coax out my knees, spreading my legs and lowering me to him, and then I felt his tongue stroke up my center line, my part, my folds, and my opening. He tongued the firm nub of my clit, and at the same time, I ran the tip of my tongue around his cock.

His hands pressed harder on my hips, drawing me down to him.

With me being so much shorter than him, we fit perfectly together for this position. Having dated shorter guys most of my life, I had no idea.

No idea.

With his c**k in my mouth and his mouth on my pu**y, we were joined, a perfect circuit, giving and receiving.

We rocked together, him pulsing me up and down on his mouth and chin, the movement in rhythm with my stroking and sucking.

When I started to come, I moaned, the vibrations of my voice going into his erection in my mouth. As the waves of pleasure shot through me, I showed him how good it felt by pumping harder with one hand and lavishing his head with attention.

Soon, he started to come, and I looked down at the beauty of his lower body tensing, his long legs stretching straight and his toes pointing, his whole body arching like a bow under me, and then he released. I ran my fingers through the silky curls around his sac and held on.

We were one.

When his body relaxed again, I turned around and lay alongside him, his arm under my face.

After a few minutes of silence, I said, “Are you already asleep?”