My heart is thudding in my chest. The blood is roaring in my ears. The alcohol couldn’t be more pervasive if it tried. I’m nervous as hell and having someone over that isn’t a family member is making my eye twitch. At least the house is clean…for once.

Thank you, Jane. 

I really need to pay her more.

I fumble to get the key in the lock, the man behind me looking around the darkened area patiently as I fight to get myself under control.

How did we even get here? Did I drive? I think I did…stupid, but there you go. I’m not drunk…well, not as drunk as I would normally be, but I may as well be. 

Finally I get the door unlocked and open. It swings in and we step inside. I’m glad the AC is on. It’s hot as hell outside for June. I pull my phone out as I ask him, “Want a drink?”

“Sure, that would be nice.” He walks into the living room slowly, looking around, just as anyone would do walking into a stranger’s home. I close the door behind us and move to the kitchen while he wanders the living room, looking at all the photos and stuff I have hanging on the wall, including a large cross stitch piece Windy finished not long ago.

I text her, Just got home. Should be fine, but I’ll let you know.

As I pull out the rum bottle and a bottle of coke, since he apparently prefers it mixed, my phone buzzes.

I’m on standby.

I grin and pocket the phone. I walk into the living room and hand him his drink.

“Thank you,” he says with a smile. His hazel eyes are pretty, his olive skin flawless, his black hair slicked back, his body slim and toned. Just my type.

Before you came along.

He points at the cross stitch. “That’s different.”

I grin. “Yeah, my friend did that.” It’s a dragon wrapped around a glowing orb. “It took her a few years to finish, actually.”

“Did she do it for you?”

“No,” I chuckle. “I dibbed it before she could hang it in her own house. Another friend of mine framed it.”

It’s in a dark wood frame with two layers of matting, custom made. The dragon itself is mostly blue, so he made sure to pick colors that would make it stand out more.

“It’s nice,” he says. He’s obviously not interested, but at least he’s being polite about it.  He continues to look around the room. “You have a nice place.”

I shrug. “It’s okay, I guess.” Standard response. Telling him you chose the paint and furniture wouldn’t be a good idea at this point. I didn’t bring him here to discuss interior design and decor, anyway.

The date has been going fine so far. Standard stuff; dinner, a walk downtown, a few drinks at a local bar, and back here to my place for a nightcap. He’s nice enough, pleasant to talk to, smart and witty. We have almost nothing in common, though. After tonight, I doubt I’ll see him again. 

He points at a blown up photo of a pair of dogs sitting on a lawn smiling. He grins, a small chuckle in his throat as he takes a sip of his drink. “Are these your dogs?”

I stand behind him. “No,” I chuckle softly. “Not really, anyway. They were at the rescue I work at. My fi…um…the photographer took this and others as a way to help promote them for adoption.”

“Did it work?”

I nod, swigging my rum. “They were adopted about a week after, I think. They were two of my best so I had this image blown up to keep.”

“It’s definitely a good shot,” he says, grinning up at me. My stomach tightens at the look in his eyes. I know what’s coming next and I’m not sure if I’m completely ready for it.

I stall, taking a small step back, one hand going into my pocket. “Yeah,” I mutter. “It’s one of my favorites.” I drain my glass. “Are you into photography at all?”

He shakes his head.

Of course not. 

“Not really,” he says. “I’m not a big art guy, but I can still appreciate good work when I see it.”

I suddenly want him out, want him gone. But I’m committed to this night, committed to what I’ve decided to do. I can’t start getting over you if I puss out now. I reach into my mental files for all the pick up lines and flirty crap I’d forgotten.

“Well, they do say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” I’m looking right at him, my nicest smile on display. I have one hand on his lower back, sliding to his side. He gazes up at me, his pupils dilating and not from the rum.

“You’re not looking at the photo,” he says, his voice low and seductive. My stomach flips.

“I don’t need to.” I steel myself and, after a brief hesitation, lean my head down and gently place my lips against his. He presses back, parting his lips to accept more, his tongue sliding into my mouth.

I want to puke.

I feel nothing except revulsion. 

He isn’t you. Why the fuck am I kissing him when it’s your mouth I want? Your tongue? Your taste?

I swallow it all, ignoring all my doubts and picture you instead. I have no other choice if I want to get through this. I set my glass down on the coffee table and he does the same. We return to kissing, his arms going around my neck. I try not to tense, try to relax into it, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him in. He’s warm and firm against me. Real. 

Unlike you.

I step forward and he moves with me, going to the couch. I push him down gently, my hands moving around his torso and up around his neck to his hair. He has long black hair that touches the nape of his neck. It’s perfectly styled, slicked back so it’s out of the way.

His tongue pushes against mine and he moans. Dammit… Instantly I’m hard. I lay back and pull him over me, his legs straddling my hips as he grinds against me. I’m not the only one wanting this. I’m just the only one needing this. I grab his hips and pull him tighter against me, letting him feel what he’s doing to me.

The kiss deepens and my eyes, already closed, see nothing else…

But you.

He moves down, his lips going to my neck. I tilt my head back as he lifts my shirt, kissing down my torso, his fingers teasing my nipples. I let out an involuntary moan but never once open my eyes. His hands slide down to my waistband. I can feel him undoing the snaps, releasing me. That alone brings a sigh of relief and pleasure. 

His tongue is wet and hot against me and I hiss. “Fuck, that’s good,” I whisper. It’s been so long since I’ve had this. Since someone has given me head. My hand goes into his hair as he takes me into his mouth. It’s all I can do not to cum right then. His mouth his hot, his tongue a muscle of torture as he moves on me.

I move further down and he moves with me, his rhythm not changing. He adds his hand to my base, twisting and pumping me before his fingers tease my balls, cupping them as he deep-throats me.

I groan loudly and bite my lip, gripping his hair. 

It’s no longer this stranger sucking me off…it’s you. It’s your mouth I feel, your tongue wrapping around and licking me, your moan as you enjoy my precum, your hand moving in time with your head. I want to bust, I want to cum already, to give you what you want. It’s been so damn long, baby…why have you made me wait this long? Why have you made me suffer?

My heart is pounding and my hips rotate under your practiced mouth. You always knew what I liked and how to drive me crazy. I know what you’ll do next but it still blows my mind. Your tongue teases the tiny hole at my tip, and you deepthroat me again.

“Fuck, Robin, that feels so good,” I pant.

You stop. Your mouth slides off me. “Josh.”

My throat constricts and I open my eyes, seeing nothing but white ceiling and faint light.

“My name is Josh.”

Fuck. I cover my eyes with my hand and it’s not two seconds before I’m limp.

“Who’s Robin?” He asks, sounds almost hurt, if not insulted and angry.

I don’t answer. I can’t. I can feel the pressure shift on the couch as he sits up.

“Are you with someone, dude?” he demands. 

For the first time in god only knows how long, my chin trembles and I bite my lip. I shake my head. I inhale sharply, wanting to explain but I can’t. The words are there, but I can’t reach them.

More pressure change and I hear him walk away. “I’m not about to be some sidepiece, asshole,” he says, his voice trembling. I still can’t say anything. “I’m also not a rebound.”

That one gets me. “I’m…you’re not…”

“Whatever,” he sneers. “Thanks for the dinner.” He swings the door open and slams it shut behind him. 

What the fuck. 

What have I just done?