True Bliss (Bliss #2)(39)
Author: B.J. Harvey

I’ve had no time to organize, let alone think about our elusive third date. And as much as I want to, I’m losing my resolve to stick to her three date rule. Ever since last weekend, we’ve been sleeping in her bed. It just sort of happened, and despite nothing more than sleeping all over each other and early morning make out sessions, there has been no third base action, let alone the home run we both crave.

But dammit, it’s hard to keep to my promise. Part of me, mostly the lower half of me, is thinking about just jumping her and saying to hell with the third official date. It’s not just me, either. Kate has been pouting and dropping hints all week. My favorite was when she argued with me, quite passionately, that our pancakes for dinner could be classed as our first date, which would make the zoo our second and dinner our third and that we should just ‘do it already’.

It has been such a long time coming, I think I’ve built it up in my head to the point that it is stressing me out. I want the big romantic gesture. I want it to rock her f**king world. As much as I want to give her the toe-curling orgasms and hear her scream out my name as I pile drive into her pu**y, I want it to be more than that. I want to get so lost in each other that you can’t tell where one begins, and the other one ends.

Fuck, that’s it. I really am turning into a f**king girl.

Now it’s Monday morning and I’m waiting to meet my Field Training Officer-FTO. For the last month in the academy, I’ll be working out of a CPD precinct with the FTO to make sure I’m fully prepared and aware of the reality of my new career. It’s all well and good to get weapons training, regular physicals, and be taught all of the laws we have to uphold, but out there in the real world it is a whole new ball game.

It would be like trying to play baseball with a blindfold. You know about it, you hear about it, but if you can’t cope with the game when that blindfold is ripped off, then you’re going to be no use to anyone, are you?

According to my paperwork, which also proudly declares that I ‘passed with flying colors’, my FTO is Sam Richards. So you’ll imagine my surprise and confusion when a statuesque uniformed woman walks into the room and shuts the door to the interview room before sitting down at the desk opposite me and opening up a brown folder. She holds out her hand to shake mine. “I’m Samantha Richards, and I’m going to be your FTO for the next few weeks. We’ve got a lot to talk about right now, but I’m sure we’ll get to know a bit about each other while we’re working general patrol.”

“Zander Roberts. But you probably know that.”

“Yep. Says it right here in front of me,” she replies deadpan.

Tough audience. Well, field training sounds like it’ll be a bunch of laughs with her around.

A week of night shift and I am exhausted. And if you thought I was pent up before I started my field training rotation, then times that by ten now. Kate and I have barely seen each other, let alone done anything to each other. That third date seems like a distant dream to us right now. I get home to Kate dressed and ready to leave for work, and by the time she gets home, we have enough time to eat dinner together and maybe sit and talk for a little while before I’m getting ready for another shift. It’s been hell, and definitely an eye opener as to what life is going to be like as a rookie cop on the streets once I graduate.

Don’t ask me why, but although we’ve only been on two dates, everything between us has been intensified. It must be because we’re living together. To be honest, I don’t think I would have liked it any other way. So I really do owe Mac a drink when all of this is said and done-and she’s drinking again, of course-since it was her crazy hairball matchmaking plan that put the kick up my ass.

It’s not surprising that Kate and I have taken to texting to talk to each other since my job and her job are starting to get in the way of us being able to spend any significant time together. I’m missing her, and it makes me feel a hell of a lot less girly to know that she is missing me just as much.

As the week drags on, and the weekend arrives, the texts between us have turned rather heated, and this afternoon is no exception.

Kate: Would it be bad if I just took matters into my own hands tonight?

Zander: Not helping, babe. Now all I can think about is your hands touching everywhere that my hands, mouth and dick should be.

Ten minutes later, she replies.

Kate: God, I wish you were with me right now.

Zander: Babe, you’re killing me here.

Kate: The waiting is killing us both then.

Zander: Is that why you took a bath last night?

Kate: Well, I was rather ‘tense’ after our texts yesterday. I thought it would be fairer if I ‘relaxed’ when you weren’t home. You know, just how you ‘relaxed’ in the shower without me this morning when you got home from your shift. The difference being I heard every torturous groan.

It is nearly 6 p.m., and Kate is due home any minute. I decide that enough is enough. We need to go out on our date, tonight. No more waiting, no long term planning.

I hear the rattle of the front door handle and get up off the floor from doing my push-ups, leaning against the kitchen counter wearing my workout shorts and nothing else.

“Zan, I’m …”

She spins around and stops short when she sees me. She’s wearing a sleeveless black dress that falls a few inches above her knees and has a deep, round neck that skims the top of her br**sts. One look at her and I’m hard as granite in less than a second.

“Come here,” I say hoarsely.

She drops her bag at the door, kicks her heels off, and runs toward me, jumping up just as I stand and brace myself to catch her. Our mouths crash together, and we’re all tongues and lips as we try to get impossibly closer to each other. My hands cup her ass as her hands cup my cheeks. She sucks my tongue in the way she knows drives me crazy and I lose control.

I spin around and sit her on the kitchen counter. Her hands tangle in my hair as I drag my hands down her body resting them on her hips. She catches my bottom lip in her teeth, and I growl into her mouth as I plunder her mouth with renewed veracity. She pulls away and I trail my lips along her jaw, kissing her neck.

“We should…Zan…” Her voice trails off as I suck hard below her ear. “Argh, f**k that feels good,” she moans.

“We should stop,” I murmur against her skin, continuing to work my way down her neck to the hollow of her throat.

“No! Don’t stop.”

I stop and pull back, looking at her intently. We’re both breathing heavily, the air between us crackling as the seconds stretch out.

Running a hand through my hair, I look to the floor, trying to calm myself down. I want this so f**king bad it hurts, but Kate’s rule is important to her; I know this. I don’t want her to have any regrets, or any thoughts that we rushed this. I don’t want her to question anything about being with me, about us.