the table, and I waited patiently for her to pick a side. She scooted into the booth and I moved in right next to her. “I am still not sure you won’t renege on our bet.” I couldn’t sit across from her all night thinking she could dart any minute.
She smelled great. It was subtle, sweet, and feminine. I could have eaten her for dinner. I felt my eyes roll back in my head. This girl was driving me insane. I moved my head to the side to gather my thoughts, and I saw the waiter approach the table. I had spent months watching her run at any sign of a man trying to get her attention. I stopped the waiter and ordered the meal before he said anything to her.
“Do you want something else to drink?” I watched as the curls of her hair bounced when she shook her head no. My plan was to keep her in her bubble all night, and maybe by the end of the date she would share that bubble. My phone continuously going off in my pocket annoyed me. I knew who it was. I took it out of my pocket and handed it to Katarina. I finished ordering and turned to her. She was enjoying her conversation with Dave. She looked at me, her eyes bright blue, her red lips plump. She had little white teeth showing. I swallowed, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. She handed the phone to me. Dave was ranting over losing the bet.
I interrupted, “Hey, man. I gotta go; I’m kind of busy.” It made me laugh that he was still cursing. He was such a sore loser.
I resumed our conversation we’d been having in the car. “I have never made a girl run, so ‘no’ is the answer to your question.” Sometimes I had to tie them down so they wouldn’t leave, but they definitely never ran. I felt my face turn predatory, and I knew it made her nervous when she laughed and shook her head slightly.
“What are we talking about?”
“Before we left the Jeep, you asked if I make my girls run. No. Some I
wanted wanted
to to run but you are not one of those girls." In fact, she was unlike any girl I had ever met.
“That day at the coffee house when you were yelling in your phone, was that one of those girls?” She was at the top of my list.
“Yes, that was Bettina, my good friend’s sister. I dated her for a while and it didn’t end well.” I wanted to change the subject so bad.
“Did you end it?” I loved the way she looked at me while she asked questions. Her eyes only focused on me, and her face and body opened to me.
“I did, and she is still unhappy about it. I have stopped speaking with my friend and have changed my number, but she still gets to me.” I looked away, trying to control the angry feeling rising to the surface.
“What do you mean, she gets to you?”
Fuck. So much for dropping it
.
“We dated for three years. We had an angry and unhappy relationship. It was always a game with her. She would make me really mad… furious, and then I would say and do things I normally wouldn’t. She still gets to me, meaning, I get mad even talking about her. That day in the coffeehouse, she stole my wallet. When she called, she was laughing because she was putting my credit cards through a shredding machine. She liked the way we were. I was so tired of it. She required a unique style of relationship to complete her.” I was warming her up. I could tell she wanted to know more about the unique lifestyle part, but I said nothing. I liked that about her.
“So you don’t like her?”
“No.”
More like hell no
.
“Can I ask you something,” she took a deep breath, “personal?”
Here it comes
. I reached out and touched her hand very slightly, and I felt a jolt of electricity throughout my whole body.
“Yes, anything.” Her lips slowly drew up in the corners. It was very seductive.
“How long has it been since you have been with her?”
Was she jealous, or curious?
“By ‘been with her’ I assume you are talking about sex?” She had the cutest nod. Fuck, I needed to get away and adjust myself. I wanted to have this girl
She smelled great. It was subtle, sweet, and feminine. I could have eaten her for dinner. I felt my eyes roll back in my head. This girl was driving me insane. I moved my head to the side to gather my thoughts, and I saw the waiter approach the table. I had spent months watching her run at any sign of a man trying to get her attention. I stopped the waiter and ordered the meal before he said anything to her.
“Do you want something else to drink?” I watched as the curls of her hair bounced when she shook her head no. My plan was to keep her in her bubble all night, and maybe by the end of the date she would share that bubble. My phone continuously going off in my pocket annoyed me. I knew who it was. I took it out of my pocket and handed it to Katarina. I finished ordering and turned to her. She was enjoying her conversation with Dave. She looked at me, her eyes bright blue, her red lips plump. She had little white teeth showing. I swallowed, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. She handed the phone to me. Dave was ranting over losing the bet.
I interrupted, “Hey, man. I gotta go; I’m kind of busy.” It made me laugh that he was still cursing. He was such a sore loser.
I resumed our conversation we’d been having in the car. “I have never made a girl run, so ‘no’ is the answer to your question.” Sometimes I had to tie them down so they wouldn’t leave, but they definitely never ran. I felt my face turn predatory, and I knew it made her nervous when she laughed and shook her head slightly.
“What are we talking about?”
“Before we left the Jeep, you asked if I make my girls run. No. Some I
wanted wanted
to to run but you are not one of those girls." In fact, she was unlike any girl I had ever met.
“That day at the coffee house when you were yelling in your phone, was that one of those girls?” She was at the top of my list.
“Yes, that was Bettina, my good friend’s sister. I dated her for a while and it didn’t end well.” I wanted to change the subject so bad.
“Did you end it?” I loved the way she looked at me while she asked questions. Her eyes only focused on me, and her face and body opened to me.
“I did, and she is still unhappy about it. I have stopped speaking with my friend and have changed my number, but she still gets to me.” I looked away, trying to control the angry feeling rising to the surface.
“What do you mean, she gets to you?”
Fuck. So much for dropping it
.
“We dated for three years. We had an angry and unhappy relationship. It was always a game with her. She would make me really mad… furious, and then I would say and do things I normally wouldn’t. She still gets to me, meaning, I get mad even talking about her. That day in the coffeehouse, she stole my wallet. When she called, she was laughing because she was putting my credit cards through a shredding machine. She liked the way we were. I was so tired of it. She required a unique style of relationship to complete her.” I was warming her up. I could tell she wanted to know more about the unique lifestyle part, but I said nothing. I liked that about her.
“So you don’t like her?”
“No.”
More like hell no
.
“Can I ask you something,” she took a deep breath, “personal?”
Here it comes
. I reached out and touched her hand very slightly, and I felt a jolt of electricity throughout my whole body.
“Yes, anything.” Her lips slowly drew up in the corners. It was very seductive.
“How long has it been since you have been with her?”
Was she jealous, or curious?
“By ‘been with her’ I assume you are talking about sex?” She had the cutest nod. Fuck, I needed to get away and adjust myself. I wanted to have this girl
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