Protect Me by Lacey Black

burrito. Just as she is about to lift her fork towards her mouth, she swipes it through my cup of sour cream. “There, now it’s perfect,” she says as she takes the bite.  
    I watch her chew, mesmerized by the movement of her jaw. I watch her delicious throat swallow the bite and I long to lick that damn neck again. Who knew eating dinner could be so fucking erotic.  
    “So, I have something I want to ask you,” I say in between bites of my burrito. “The twenty-fourth is my brother Jake’s wedding. I was kinda hoping that maybe you’d want to go with me,” I ask, praying that she can’t tell that my nerves have my throat dry and my stomach a little loopy. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me?  
    “Um,” she starts but doesn’t really say anything. I can tell her mind is working a mile a minute and her nervous jitters have returned.  
    “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I say, trying to soften the blow that is coming my way.  
    “It’s not that, Nate. I just don’t usually date, is all.”  
    I look up into her beautiful eyes and gauge my response. She wants to go – or at least I think she wants to - but something is holding her back. Something is always holding her back. And I’ll be damned if I don’t vow to get to the bottom of it.  
    “We still have almost three weeks. Consider it an open invitation if you want to go, okay?”  
    “That sounds nice. Thank you,” she says with another small smile.  
    We finish off our dinner in relative silence. After I pay the bill, I take Lia by the hand and head towards the parking lot. Outside, there is little noise as most of Rivers Edge is home and locked up inside the cool confines of their houses. The humidity has been high for the last several days and doesn’t look like it’s going to be letting up anytime soon.  
    When we reach my car, I pull Lia against my body. She comes willingly and threads her arms around my waist. I feel her perky breasts flatten against my chest and her breathing has a slight hitch in it. Hell, my breathing practically becomes erratic. Lia strokes her hands up and down my back as we continue to hold each other.  
    “Where do you want to go?” I whisper into the evening air.  
    “Can we go to the creek?” she whispers back.  
    I smile against her head as I picture my spot with her in it. “Of course we can,” I say as I place a hard kiss on her forehead. Lia slides into my car, and we set out for my quiet creek bank spot about ten miles outside of town.  
    As I’m driving down the road – hell, before I even pull out of the parking lot next to El Toro – I link my fingers within hers. Touching her has quickly become a lifeline. It’s as necessary as eating, drinking, and breathing. I don’t think I’ve held hands since Jill and that was over a decade ago. I’ve never felt the need, the desire. But Lia makes me feel all of that, and if I’m being brutally honest, she makes me feel so much more. That terrifies the shit out of me.  
    When I pull the Mustang into the drive, I quickly hop out and unlock the chain restricting access. The moonlight shines through the windshield illuminating Lia in the front seat. The sight just about brings me to my knees. Her beautiful eyes are following my progress as I stroll back towards the car.  
    How is it possible to want this woman, need this woman, with such a ferocious intensity that it practically renders me speechless, stupid, and immobile all at the same time? I’ve known this woman for a matter of days. A week. But it feels like I’ve known her forever. I want to worship her body with my own. I want to hold her tight and show her that nothing will ever hurt her. I want to protect her. For the first time in more than a decade, I might want more.  
    Isn’t that a kicker? My life isn’t conducive to a wife, children, and white picket fences. I’ve made peace with that lifestyle or so I’ve thought. So, why the hell am I dreaming of more