Thank you to WildFire Cowgirl for her help with editing. More chapters to come.
*
I stood leaning against the doorjamb of my walk-in closet, gazing at the clothes that hung there, trying to decide what to wear. Tonight was date number three with Ian the Accountant. He wasn't actually an accountant. I didn't really know what he did for a living, only that he owned his own business. That name which I called him (in my own head) came from the fact that so far our first two dates had been very straightforward and by the book. A nice dinner, an after dinner drink, then a walk to my front door with a gentle kiss goodnight, no tongue. This surprised me, as it doesn't seem to go with the Ian that I first agreed to go out with.
That
Ian, the one with the gorgeous looks and the sexiest voice I'd ever heard,
that
Ian had a slight aura of danger about him, a look of arrogance in his bearing and maybe even a little feel of dominance in his demeanor. Unfortunately, I'd only seen glimpses of
that
Ian on our two dates. He's been perfectly courteous, but a little too bland for me.
Well, I'm not sure what book he's following, but in my book, a third date means one thing, and I hadn't yet decided if that was what I wanted. What I had decided was that this date was going to end one of two ways...with me in Ian's bed, or sending him on his way for good. Which brought me to my indecision on what to wear: leather mini-skirt and Jimmy Choo's or beige slacks and pumps.
As I chewed my bottom lip in indecisiveness, I heard my flat mate, Danny, come up behind me.
"Haven't yet figured out what to wear for your hot date with Edgar?
"His name is Ian, and no," I answered without turning around.
"Well," Danny whispered in my ear, having moved up directly behind me, "either way, this is going to have to come off." As he said this, his hand trailed along my shoulder and down my arm, moving the silky fabric, as his mouth followed in its wake. He rained small kisses in the hollow of my collarbone, sending shivers down my spine.
"Danny, Ian will be here in half an hour," I whispered, but despite my words, my head fell back against his chest, tilting to give his lips more access.
This, right here, was the main reason that I was having such a hard time deciding what to do about Ian. Three months ago, Danny and I, friends and roommates for more than two years, were enjoying a night in together, and shared a couple bottles of wine, followed by some tequila, and talk turned to sex. We both realized that we were each between partners and having a bit of a dry spell. After all that booze and talk of sex, I guess it wasn't much of a surprise how the night ended. What was a surprise was the lack of awkwardness the next morning, and the decision that we would be roommates with benefits until one of us found someone else. Just friends, sex, and no strings.
