(Author's Note:
This is the edited version! Build up to smut will be slow, you may have to wait till chapter 3 before it gets to the good stuff. So, if you want a quick fix this story is definitely not for you!
)
Simple and Pure
Chapter One: Blind Date
"This isn't a good idea." I tried my best to reason with my belligerent friend, trying to argument why her ideas never seemed to work.
"Wha'? Of course it is! You need to give him a try. Come on! It took me forever to book this date and you look fabulous! You can't argue with me that you don't look absolutely sexy!"
My eyes moved back over to the mirror I was currently sitting in front of, trying not to wince every once in a while when my friend Bethany, and supposed matchmaker, pulled a little too hard with the curling iron. I did look good. Sexy good. Incredibly edible 'let-me-help-you-take-that-dress-off' kind of sexy. But it just wasn't me. I mean, yeah, I worked hard on my body, exercising every day since High School to get my ass toned along with every other muscle in my body, but I wasn't one to show it off. Ever.
The dress was cocktail skinny, hugging my curves in a delicious way and was incredibly―virgin―white, contrasting well with my lightly tan skin. It hugged my body like a second skin, the wavy lace design was beautiful and breathtaking, and the flower see-through lace hugging my neck was indeed an eye catcher. It showed off my curves like no other dress I've worn before, and even my other sun dresses did a generous enough job of doing that, but this dress definitely would beat them in one curvy swoop. However, the one detail I did find a little disturbing was the fact it looked like someone shoved a basketball up underneath my lower backside. It wasn't a pretty picture, but my friend, who was currently pulling my hair out permanently, said it was every man's dream to have an ass like mine. I didn't agree, of course. Didn't guys like boobs more anyhow?
"I guess...but do you honestly believe this is something I would pick out for myself? He's going to get the wrong idea...I'm not this"―I gestured toward me and the dress, my green eyes clashing with her blue―"type of girl."
"Please, pray tell, what type of girl wears this kind of dress?" she asked honestly, not looking at me in the mirror as she continued to curl my hair from the messy bun she so delicately put it in.
"Someone who likes to have fun!"
"And you don't?"
"Not the partying and one night stands kind of fun!" It was true. This dress screamed that I was a one night stand kind of girl.
"This dress doesn't say that. Any girl―whatever their personalities are like―and with a body like yours, might I add, can wear this dress. Just because you're a nerd doesn't mean you don't have the privilege, like every other girl, to dress up sexy once in a great, long while." She rolled her eyes at me in the mirror, a light smile curving her generous, plump lips.
"Yes it does."
"No it doesn't."
"Yes-huh!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"You're such a butt-crack!"
"I love you, too~"
Ever since my fiasco of a relationship my senior year in High School went down, my friend, Bethany, started to set me up on dates with completely random strangers. She'd claimed to have had known them in some way, but I was pretty sure she'd put up some random post on craigslist and was setting me up with every available guy that replied to it. She still denies it till this day, but I'm pretty sure I was spot on with my 'not-so-random' guess.
I did meet one guy, however, so it wasn't all in vein on her part. It was a good learning experience―I found out what true love was, then also found out what true heart-broken felt like all in one go. Again, it was a good learning experience, especially on guys I should definitely, always, stay away from.
Rich men.
Yep. My last boyfriend was a somewhat famous surgeon. Everyone flocked to him with their different needs, wanting his so called magical hands to fix their ever growing problems. Turns out, he also slept with some of his patients, too, for extra incentives.
Ugh. You know what? No more thinking about it. End of discussion. It's all in the pass.
"All done!" Bethany sang out right next to my ear making me wince, once more, in pain, and deeply hoping that will be the last of it for the night. "So? What do you think?" Before I could respond, she was already talking again in her smug little tone I came to get use to overtime. "I know, I know, I'm a genius, no need to say it. Jeesh."
My hair did look good. I had exceptionally long hair that almost reached to the crack of my butt and because of its longlines, it was hard to style without it drooping from the weight throughout the day (especially when curled). But Bethany always had a way of manipulating it, making it last throughout the day and night. Looking in the mirror now, I scanned my eyes over the dull brown hair that was strung up in a messy bun with strands of hair falling from it, effectively curled and bouncy and somehow not dangling in front of my face. A few strands of curled hair was hanging around my face, framing it but was in no way uncomfortable or in the way of my eyes. She always knew what would look good on me.
"Yes, Bethany," I agreed with a beaming smile, mostly to help boast her already overly-inflated ego. "You are a genius."
Standing in front of Le Chantecler, one of the most famous―and expensive―restaurant found in the state, Jak couldn't help but run his hand through his slicked back, dark brown hair in a gesture of complete exasperation. He didn't find the restaurant itself irritating. Far from it actually. He found the food and atmosphere to be quiet enjoyable, giving him a feeling of relaxation and forgetful bliss for the times he'd spent in it. But today he knew entering that restaurant wouldn't give him the relaxation he craved desperately for, because what lied in the restaurant, and most likely sitting down and enjoying her time with the other dates that were accompanying them for this dreadful night, was his blind date.
He didn't like blind dates. Not one bit. Especially when his friend, Blake, was the one who arranged such an event. Remembering his last blind date brought a great deal of trepidation, forcing his legs to stand still, unmoving toward the twin French doors that lead to his nightly fate. The last woman he was forced to see was gorgeous, he couldn't deny, with long legs, deep tan skin, and luxuries blonde hair that shined golden under the soft lamping of another, less expensive restaurant he attended for the night.
Her beauty didn't outshine the shallow nature of her personality, however, much to her displeasure considering the impetuous emails he gets from her about once a week. Having to be forced to listen to one woman talk about every little aspect of her life and not once acquiring about his, or anything about him beside what job he held and his...recent expenses, was torturous. He didn't mind when his date would talk about past events, but to explain for hours on end on all the supposed achievements, dates, and family losses to no end in sight, was a little much for him to deal with in one night. That information should be given over time, and to people you trust enough to keep such knowledge secret.
He had to go in, however, he was already reaching the limit of 'fashionably late', already a half an hour late from the original date time. Taking one last final breath, he marched forward and opened the twin doors with more confidence than what he'd actually felt.
~*~
Ignoring the ogling stares from the waitress that lead him to their table, he watched closely as he neared his destination. Blake was already seated, sitting next to his yearlong girlfriend, Bethany, and was talking fervently with three other seated friends he didn't know or probably didn't care to recognize. As he neared, all five eyes locked onto him instantly, almost like they could sense him coming. Or perhaps, could sense his slight overwhelming hesitation. One girl in particular eyes grew wide, and none to discreetly, checked him out from head to toe.
After the waitress parted, promising to come back later to take their orders, he sat down slowly, but steadily into his seat next to Blake, watching from the corner of his eye when the girl followed his slow descent.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in!" Blake boasted with a wide smile, his shaggy blonde hair swaying in his face uncaringly. His bright, baby blue eyes sparkling with hidden mischief. "Fashionably late, like usual."
