I'm not sure how I feel about this story, but I already wrote it so I'm letting y'all decide if its a winner or not. Either way I hope you enjoy. :)
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It was by happenstance that the man of my dreams walked into my effortlessly dull life. He'd been leaving some hotshot club when we first met at my job.
I was the lonely bored night clerk on duty, while he filled the role as the designated driver for a group of friends. The first time I saw him, he entered the store with his nose turned up like a dog sniffing out a scent, then disappeared behind some shelves. My face was contorted into confusion until he reappeared, armed with a deadly smile as he stalked up to the counter with three Gatorades. He began going on about how his stupid drunk friends conned him into being the driver, and now he had to buy them something to sober up.
The exact details bypassed me as I was too focused on his perfect shining teeth, hypnotic blue eyes, and wavy brunette hair. With all the strength I could muster, I displayed my own award-winning smile, he was a customer after all and I had to show him some courtesy. Though, If it were a smile contest he'd win by a landslide, and I doubt I would've even been a runner up.
"There it is," he grinned as he leaned forward on the counter. "You have such a pretty smile, and it brightens your face which makes you even more beautiful." I was knocked down by his flattery, like the words had physically pushed me back on my ass. "And you smell really fucking good."
I blinked a couple of times at that last statement, I suppose I was using a new body spray and it was nice that someone noticed. I couldn't help the heat rushing to my cheeks, and the genuine shy smile that replaced my forced one.
I scanned two of his Gatorades, omitting the third as sort of a reward for making me feel something other than boredom and depression. He noticed the gesture as he swiped his black card, and his lips curled up further than I thought was possible.
"Would you like your receipt, sir?" I asked, trying to avoid his stare because it was making me tingle in places I couldn't control.
"Of course and do you have a pen I could borrow?" I arched a brow, I wasn't expecting that question,but I actually did keep pens at the counter. I curiously handed him each item.
He quickly raked over my form and scribbled something on his receipt and with a wink, he grabbed his items and headed out the door without the printed paper.
"Don't keep me waiting!" he shouted as the door slowly closed behind him.
What the hell does that mean? I glanced at the receipt and of course, his number was printed on it, with his name right under the digits. Kayden.
We've been on plenty of dates since that day but most of them took place at my home. The shabby house was located in the middle of the woods and not in the best shape, but beggars can't be choosers. After my mothers unexpected death she gifted the home to me, and being a gas station clerk wasn't exactly rolling in the dough, so I accepted it and immediately moved in. It took some time to cope with my mothers presence being gone, but once her death weighed less on my conscience, I started taking the time to fix up our old family home.
The moment Kayden walked into my house he only showered me with compliments. The man never said anything bad to me or about me that I knew of,and that left me to wonder what part of heaven he accidentally fell from. He was too good to be true, but there was always a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, trying to figure out what game he was playing.
Months had passed and he was still the same sweet, charming, and attentive guy I'd grown to love. So unless he was playing the long game, I was all his.
Kayden appeared at my home for the millionth time, and we'd do our normal routine, attempting to spend as much time together before a tedious responsibility took one of us away. He held me so tenderly and sweetly that I truly believed this man was my destined soulmate, if such a thing existed. All my worries and fears were washed away as he cleansed my being with his strong, protective presence.
I truly did love him. There was no denying that.
He let my body stay relaxed on his massive frame and my head lay perfectly snug in the juncture of his neck. There was a rhythmic rise and fall to his chest as we cuddled and gave little attention to the TV show.
"I don't understand why a man like you loves me. I can't make sense of it." My head was slowly nuzzling his exposed neck, displaying my doubt with every soft stroke.
I wasn't the smartest woman, and my chubby waist combined with my chestnut brown skin wasn't the most breathtaking combination either. Money was definitely out of the question, he'd be a fool to think he'd gain any financial stability from me. Maybe it was because I was funny, but not that funny. Especially not as funny as him.
"Well," he chuckled, "it's because you're you. The most perfect woman for me and I can't let you go just for someone else to come snatch you up." His bicep pulled me closer into his body as if he was trying to imprint me into his pale skin.
I could feel a lovely, mushy sensation penetrating my flesh as it left his. He wasn't lying. He couldn't have been. There was no faking the raw emotional energy that seeped out of him everytime he was near me.
I almost felt a tear slip pass my eye. I don't know if I deserve him. Faith has a funky matchmaking system, but damn did it do me right. The sudden silence caused him to place soft lips on my forehead to plant a gentle kiss on the surface.
"You're mine," he whispered against the skin "and I'm so lucky to have found you." His embrace was so tender and gentle that the sudden jolt of electricity from his calloused hand rubbing an outline on my waist then sliding towards the middle of my thigh, startled me out of my doubt and my skin.
He recognized my panic and quickly asked. "Can I touch you like that? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
My 'yes' response was immediate. I wanted him to touch me more, so much more than he's ever had.
It's been six months and he's never pressured me to do anything besides cuddling. I was starting to think he wasn't sexually attracted to me, but he was always hard when we snuggled so my brain gave up on processing the signs.
I decided I'd let him choose when we would take it there, and enjoy the innocence and wholesomeness of our relationship until he was ready. However, my patience was wearing thin and if he was playing me, he was waiting a hell of a long time to do it. Six months was enough time for me to consider forcing him. His game would've turned into something far more sinister, and I'd be the person responsible for breaking the game master.
"Please touch me more." I crashed into him trying to get closer as his large hand cupped underneath my ass. Kayden's breathing intensified as he gripped the soft, squishy flesh, grabbing handful after handful like he'd been starved from it his whole life.
"You can tell me to stop." he breathed as he shifted our bodies so I was planted underneath him. His large frame hovered over me, and I could feel heat radiating from my untouched folds. He rested his form snuggly between my thighs, and the only thing separating his shaft from my aching pussy was the silk night shorts I was cursing myself for wearing.
