jeans and his cowboy boots gave him a rugged sexy appeal, triple ah!
He put down his knife that he was using to cut tomatoes, walked over to me and gently brushed my hair behind my ear. He let his lips drop to mine for a soft kiss and when he pulled back, he shocked me with what he said next. "As bad as I want to make this date seven, and the fact that I wish we never set a number, we just let nature take its course; I know that we both want something more here. Besides, you haven't started asking me questions. I thought I might be barraged with at least a few by now. Instead, you have sat in my kitchen, looking at me like I need to undress you and make you feel every bit the woman you are."
Oh swoon. I let out that ah sound, and he laughed and walked back over to cutting tomatoes. I took a big swig of wine, not very lady like, but I needed some courage. Once I swallowed, Mason got his questions shot out at him like a tennis ball practice machine in overdrive.
"So what made you want to stay with the family business? What were your last serious girlfriends like? What was this about Internet search on me, and can we do one on you tonight? What is your family like? Your mother? Your sisters? You've mentioned your dad is kind of hard on you, how so? How is it you and Carl already know each other?" I would have gone on, but the look on his face was priceless.
"Say again. What was your first question?" He laughed.
"Ok. Tell me about your family." I put my hands folded together under my chin and leaned my elbows on his island countertop as I stared at him with intent.
By the time we finished eating , I knew more about him than most men I have ever dated. He is the oldest of four kids, and his Catholic family wanted him married off to a nice Catholic girl years ago. His father preferred he married someone like his sisters, educated and employed in prestige positions; his mother just wanted him happy and in love. His sisters just wanted another sister and some more babies to go around. His dad was hard on him and rarely showed appreciation. We laughed about my mom being the same with me, and that it must be a first-born child thing. I found out that his last two girlfriends were a bit on the stalker side; one actually called him every hour on the hour. Now, he will not take a girl to meet his family until he does a background check. He never got around to how he knows Carl, because by the time we talked about him doing a background check on me, he had his laptop in front of me and his name in a search engine program that one must purchase. He told me to hit the return button as he had already typed in his vital information.
I spent the next twenty minutes reading some interesting things on Mason Montahue. He is quite the delectable young man. Had a few strange posts on line but what person doesn't. Had a YouTube video of him singing that he had begged a friend not to post, which was why he refused to do a song with me at the bar earlier this evening. I will not be asking that of him again. By the time I looked over at him doing the dishes in his kitchen, while whistling, I realized I was more in love with the man I just read about and waiting a few more days was not necessary.
When he finally turned to my staring, he leaned against his kitchen counter and smiled. "This was fun."
"Yes it was." I looked at him as a hungry lion looks at a piece of meat.
"I know that look Amber." He walked towards me and as soon as he got within reach, I practically slammed my body against him. His mouth tasted like wine; his lips tingled against mine, and my body was cooing a song that had me ignoring all 'let's be smart about this' signs.
Mason was the first to pull away from the kiss. He stepped back, ran his hands through his hair and gave me a sideways glance. "I don't want to wait until our seventh date." His pleas were begging me; I was begging me, and I
He put down his knife that he was using to cut tomatoes, walked over to me and gently brushed my hair behind my ear. He let his lips drop to mine for a soft kiss and when he pulled back, he shocked me with what he said next. "As bad as I want to make this date seven, and the fact that I wish we never set a number, we just let nature take its course; I know that we both want something more here. Besides, you haven't started asking me questions. I thought I might be barraged with at least a few by now. Instead, you have sat in my kitchen, looking at me like I need to undress you and make you feel every bit the woman you are."
Oh swoon. I let out that ah sound, and he laughed and walked back over to cutting tomatoes. I took a big swig of wine, not very lady like, but I needed some courage. Once I swallowed, Mason got his questions shot out at him like a tennis ball practice machine in overdrive.
"So what made you want to stay with the family business? What were your last serious girlfriends like? What was this about Internet search on me, and can we do one on you tonight? What is your family like? Your mother? Your sisters? You've mentioned your dad is kind of hard on you, how so? How is it you and Carl already know each other?" I would have gone on, but the look on his face was priceless.
"Say again. What was your first question?" He laughed.
"Ok. Tell me about your family." I put my hands folded together under my chin and leaned my elbows on his island countertop as I stared at him with intent.
By the time we finished eating , I knew more about him than most men I have ever dated. He is the oldest of four kids, and his Catholic family wanted him married off to a nice Catholic girl years ago. His father preferred he married someone like his sisters, educated and employed in prestige positions; his mother just wanted him happy and in love. His sisters just wanted another sister and some more babies to go around. His dad was hard on him and rarely showed appreciation. We laughed about my mom being the same with me, and that it must be a first-born child thing. I found out that his last two girlfriends were a bit on the stalker side; one actually called him every hour on the hour. Now, he will not take a girl to meet his family until he does a background check. He never got around to how he knows Carl, because by the time we talked about him doing a background check on me, he had his laptop in front of me and his name in a search engine program that one must purchase. He told me to hit the return button as he had already typed in his vital information.
I spent the next twenty minutes reading some interesting things on Mason Montahue. He is quite the delectable young man. Had a few strange posts on line but what person doesn't. Had a YouTube video of him singing that he had begged a friend not to post, which was why he refused to do a song with me at the bar earlier this evening. I will not be asking that of him again. By the time I looked over at him doing the dishes in his kitchen, while whistling, I realized I was more in love with the man I just read about and waiting a few more days was not necessary.
When he finally turned to my staring, he leaned against his kitchen counter and smiled. "This was fun."
"Yes it was." I looked at him as a hungry lion looks at a piece of meat.
"I know that look Amber." He walked towards me and as soon as he got within reach, I practically slammed my body against him. His mouth tasted like wine; his lips tingled against mine, and my body was cooing a song that had me ignoring all 'let's be smart about this' signs.
Mason was the first to pull away from the kiss. He stepped back, ran his hands through his hair and gave me a sideways glance. "I don't want to wait until our seventh date." His pleas were begging me; I was begging me, and I
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