I’ve never done it or attempted to be in one, and I’m not going to start now.
I’ve also never fucked a regular guy. This is a first for me, and honestly, I don’t expect much. Not for me, anyway. And it has nothing to do with him.
It’s solely because of how I am, but he will never know.
I don’t want to hurt his feelings, so I’ll keep everything short and on point. I don’t need him to tell me lies or to romance me.
I don’t need foreplay, poems, flowers, or a serenade. And even if we successfully fuck, that doesn’t mean he’ll be my date at Isabel’s engagement party. If things turn out half decent, I’ll make sure he is a satisfied man when I leave his place.
The door swings open, and Nick enters the room holding two glasses half-filled.
His house is spacious and brand new.
It’s a subdivision I’m familiar with since I’ve bought a couple of properties here. His place is decluttered and tastefully decorated like a home staged for sale.
The living room is vast and opens into the kitchen, and the layout is quite popular with the residents of this area. The furniture has an elegant espresso finish, a nice contrast to the gray marble.
Large glass doors usher in the view of the blue-lit pool and manicured backyard.
He edges closer, his eyes sparkling with mixed emotions. I detect excitement and nervousness. He must be close to Mark’s age. Somewhere in his early thirties.
The soft tremble of his fingers tells me not many women have slept with him in his bed. Even if they have, they must’ve been even more anxious than he is.
I drink wine as he brings the short glass of bourbon to his lips and takes a swig.
We’re both standing.
I spin around, place my drink on the coffee table and turn to him.
“Do you, um…?” he murmurs.
I slide my finger to his lips.
He goes silent as I pull down my zipper and shimmy out of my dress. His eyes stay locked with mine.
My lips curl into a faint smile as I open his shirt and peel it off his shoulders.
Brushing the silky hair dusting his chest, I lean into him and softly kiss him. A smile glints in his eyes. He sucks in a long, quiet breath.
I’ve never seen a man so nervous.
I dip my eyes.
He's well-built.
While I wouldn’t necessarily see him lift weights in a gym, I could envision him as an outdoors enthusiast.
“Senna?”
“Shh.”
I nudge him to the couch.
He lowers himself, his gaze drifting below my chin. I let him study me before I set my knees on either side of him and sit on his lap.
His arms loop around me as I lower my mouth, cup his face, and teasingly run the tip of my tongue across his lips.
His eyes flicker with surprise. Slowly, I roll my hips and grind against his groin, his shaft growing hard between my legs.