Michael
and I first met at the gym. He struck up a conversation after asking to work in
between my sets on the leg press. I asked about his accent because it was so
uncommon for anyone in Montana to have a foreign accent. This inspired a rather
lengthy conversation about where Michael was from. He kept talking and continued
working in with me as I made my way down the weight machines. I was instantly
attracted to him, both physically and intellectually. He was well-traveled, a
bit mysterious, and extremely intelligent. His seductive tone had a mind numbing
effect on me; and the fact that he looked like a Greek God certainly hadn’t
hurt. He asked me out to dinner at the end of our workout, but I negotiated him
down to lunch, thinking it was safer for a first date. As I reflected back on
our first encounter I glanced back up at Michael and tried to explain. “I was enthralled
with you.”
Michael
nodded. “I wanted you the second I laid eyes on you.”
I
knew that was true. There had been an intensity about Michael, a look in his
eyes that made it physically impossible to breathe. He had been incredibly attentive
and romantic on the first date, even though we had only gone to lunch. I had
suggested we meet at the restaurant, but he insisted on driving. He brought me roses
and kissed me on both cheeks when he picked me up. He opened doors for me, kept
his hand on the small of my back when we walked, and he acted like no one else
in the world even existed when he was listening to me. The one red flag had
been how annoyed he became with our waitress when she interrupted our
conversation. Still, I found Michael fascinating. He was unlike anyone I had
ever met before.
Our
lunch date lasted for hours. I had been so captivated by Michael’s stories that
I didn’t want the date to end. Michael ordered a bottle of wine, so I was a bit
tipsy when he finally took me home. I was totally unprepared for the way he
kissed me goodbye, because he’d been such a gentleman all afternoon. He
completely ravished me as he pressed me up against my door.
I
was shocked by the intense desire he had stoked in me; it had been in such
stark contrast to what I’d felt in my marriage. I seriously doubted my ability
to resist him, so I didn’t invite him inside my apartment. Still, when he
insisted on taking me out to dinner the next night, there wasn’t a single part
of me that wanted to say no. I looked back up at Michael and confessed, “I had
never wanted anyone the way I wanted you when you kissed me at the end of our
first date.”
Michael
looked relieved. “Then you felt it too?”
I
nodded, although I wasn’t entirely certain what “it” was. The very next day, I had
asked the owner of my favorite wine store to recommend a wine that would
impress someone from France. I wanted to do something special for Michael, to
thank him for that first date, and a bottle of wine seemed like the perfect
gift. The wine had cost close to fifty dollars, but I was thrilled with the expression
on Michael’s face when I handed it to him.
Aside
from his repeated rudeness to the waiters, dinner had been great. I had deflected
most of his questions about my past, because I didn’t want to share any details
about my abusive marriage. Still, Michael seemed captivated by the few stories
I did share about my work, my interests, and my extremely limited travels. Neither
of us wanted the evening to end. So, we went to his apartment after dinner to share
the wine I’d purchased for him. We decided to go to my place when we discovered
his roommate was home. I glanced at Michael questioningly. “Did you really have
a roommate in Montana?”
Michael’s
eyes lit with amusement. “No, that was my bodyguard. I had just moved to
Montana. I was uncertain about the level of protection I would need there, but I
didn’t want him ruining our dates.”
My
eyes widened as we drifted past a beautifully lit building that looked a lot
like a palace.
“That
is the
and I first met at the gym. He struck up a conversation after asking to work in
between my sets on the leg press. I asked about his accent because it was so
uncommon for anyone in Montana to have a foreign accent. This inspired a rather
lengthy conversation about where Michael was from. He kept talking and continued
working in with me as I made my way down the weight machines. I was instantly
attracted to him, both physically and intellectually. He was well-traveled, a
bit mysterious, and extremely intelligent. His seductive tone had a mind numbing
effect on me; and the fact that he looked like a Greek God certainly hadn’t
hurt. He asked me out to dinner at the end of our workout, but I negotiated him
down to lunch, thinking it was safer for a first date. As I reflected back on
our first encounter I glanced back up at Michael and tried to explain. “I was enthralled
with you.”
Michael
nodded. “I wanted you the second I laid eyes on you.”
I
knew that was true. There had been an intensity about Michael, a look in his
eyes that made it physically impossible to breathe. He had been incredibly attentive
and romantic on the first date, even though we had only gone to lunch. I had
suggested we meet at the restaurant, but he insisted on driving. He brought me roses
and kissed me on both cheeks when he picked me up. He opened doors for me, kept
his hand on the small of my back when we walked, and he acted like no one else
in the world even existed when he was listening to me. The one red flag had
been how annoyed he became with our waitress when she interrupted our
conversation. Still, I found Michael fascinating. He was unlike anyone I had
ever met before.
Our
lunch date lasted for hours. I had been so captivated by Michael’s stories that
I didn’t want the date to end. Michael ordered a bottle of wine, so I was a bit
tipsy when he finally took me home. I was totally unprepared for the way he
kissed me goodbye, because he’d been such a gentleman all afternoon. He
completely ravished me as he pressed me up against my door.
I
was shocked by the intense desire he had stoked in me; it had been in such
stark contrast to what I’d felt in my marriage. I seriously doubted my ability
to resist him, so I didn’t invite him inside my apartment. Still, when he
insisted on taking me out to dinner the next night, there wasn’t a single part
of me that wanted to say no. I looked back up at Michael and confessed, “I had
never wanted anyone the way I wanted you when you kissed me at the end of our
first date.”
Michael
looked relieved. “Then you felt it too?”
I
nodded, although I wasn’t entirely certain what “it” was. The very next day, I had
asked the owner of my favorite wine store to recommend a wine that would
impress someone from France. I wanted to do something special for Michael, to
thank him for that first date, and a bottle of wine seemed like the perfect
gift. The wine had cost close to fifty dollars, but I was thrilled with the expression
on Michael’s face when I handed it to him.
Aside
from his repeated rudeness to the waiters, dinner had been great. I had deflected
most of his questions about my past, because I didn’t want to share any details
about my abusive marriage. Still, Michael seemed captivated by the few stories
I did share about my work, my interests, and my extremely limited travels. Neither
of us wanted the evening to end. So, we went to his apartment after dinner to share
the wine I’d purchased for him. We decided to go to my place when we discovered
his roommate was home. I glanced at Michael questioningly. “Did you really have
a roommate in Montana?”
Michael’s
eyes lit with amusement. “No, that was my bodyguard. I had just moved to
Montana. I was uncertain about the level of protection I would need there, but I
didn’t want him ruining our dates.”
My
eyes widened as we drifted past a beautifully lit building that looked a lot
like a palace.
“That
is the
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