I wipe a hand across my brow. “Okay. That’s good. I can work with that.”
“And what about you? Are you loyal? Do you like to go on adventures? Do you like to have fun?”
I nod solemnly, speaking from the bottom of my heart. “All of the above.”
“Then try the cowboy cookie. After all, it’s like sex in cookie form.”
Sam slides the plate with two cookies on it to me. I take a bite of my first cowboy cookie, and it’s spectacular. So is the date and the conversation, as we talk as easily in person as we did online.
We chat about Tahoe and work.
About dogs and cats and books.
I learn he’s narrated more than two hundred novels, as well as more than one hundred fifty non-fiction stories. He especially loves reading TJ’s books, as well as memoirs from comedians, and any essays that illuminate how the world is changing for the better.
I tell him about pickleball and how much fun I’ve been having playing, then about Millie, the sweet old lady who brings in her Chihuahua mix every week for a nail trim, and about my favorite trail to snowboard.
“And I just like to ride that trail like a badass.”
“That’s a happy trail,” he says, in a deliberately sexy tone.
“Well, I do like happy trails. I could write a complete guide to them.”
His lips crook into a grin. “What do you know? So could I.”
When the date ends we walk along the streets of Tahoe, stopping in front of a thrift store, when Samuel turns to me and says, “You forgot to ask me one important question about my likes and dislikes.”
My brow furrows. “I did?”
“Yes. So I’ll ask you.” Sam takes a breath, his eyes going darker. “Do you like sex?”
Easiest question ever. “More than cowboy cookies. Plus, it burns calories. You?”
“So much,” he says, reaching for my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “That’s why I want to wait.”
That’s not what I’d expected from a guy on an app, so I want to make sure I heard him right. “You want to wait?”
That slow, sexy smile curves his lips again. “Because I like you, Tobey. You’re fun. And smart. And you’re really kind of a complete and absolute dork, which is totally adorable. So, I would like to sleep with you. But maybe, say, Friday?”
A tingle slides down my spine. “You’re asking me out on a second date? Two nights from now?”
“I am,” Sam says.
“Then I’m saying yes.” But there is that little matter of what might be wrong with this hunk of a man. I hold up one finger. “But how do you feel about kissing on the first date?”
“Let me show you how I feel,” he says.
Sam runs a thumb along my jaw, slides a hand into my hair, and brings his gorgeous face within inches of mine.
He pauses, making me wait for it. And in those seconds, a burst of heat flares in my chest. The first hot inklings of desire. I can’t wait for Friday night. But I also want all of the fantastic now.
I lean in, brush my lips to his, and kiss the man I’ve loved talking to. Sam tastes a little bit like coconut, a little bit like sugar, and a lot like the outdoors.
Our lips sweep together for a few delicious seconds. But it doesn’t stay slow for long. Soon we’re exploring, tasting, having. He slides a hand around me, pressing fingertips gently but purposefully against my back. I read his cues and inch a little closer. Our bodies don’t quite grind…but they want to. And we kiss like we both like sex very, very much. And we’d like it with each other.
On Friday, we go for a hike, stopping along the trail to kiss, then to make out some more. It’s a miracle we don’t find a big redwood and test out the durability of our knees. But we finish five miles, then pile into my car. Before we go, he sets a hand on my face, turns me to him. “I can’t wait much longer.”
“My house. Now.”
Twenty minutes later, we pull into my driveway, then head into my home. The second the door closes, we slam into each other. We’re all hands and fury. Teeth and lips. Pressing and grinding. Then tearing off shirts. We kiss greedily, full of pent-up need. I rub my chest against him, then we grind our pelvises together. The friction is delicious, and I want more.
“Me first,” I say, and Sam smiles then drops to his knees, but I stop him. “I meant I get to suck you first.”
“Oh,” he says, his smile a little shy and dirty at the same time.
I unzip his jeans, and he pushes down his boxer briefs. I groan at the sight of him. Hard, ready, and, most of all, excited.