Sex Unlimited(4)

“Candace, I presume,” a deep voice says from behind me, sliding into my ears. My heart drops. I stand as I turn my head and I have to crane my head upwards to see his face. He’s tall, very tall and massive. Large arms attached to broad shoulders and those lips …. I should say something.

Speak, Candace.

Say words.

An insanely sexy smile spreads across his face, revealing Colgate commercial white teeth. When he smiles, tiny fine lines form at the creases of his eyes. It’s a perfect imperfection.

“Hi, I’m her. I mean Candace, yes … that’s me.” I might as well have said I carried a watermelon like Baby did in Dirty Dancing. I’m an idiot. I can feel the heat in the skin of my face.

He leans in slightly and says quietly, “I think you’re blushing, Candace.”

A nervous laugh escapes my mouth and I nod my head in embarrassment. “Yes, I guess I am.”

“That’s okay. My heart’s racing like a racehorse and I’m regretting wearing long sleeves because I’m feeling a bit overheated. Nerves in this situation are to be expected. Don’t be embarrassed.”

Every word is honest and utterly refreshing. I immediately feel more at ease. He sits his large body in the chair across from me at the small bistro table and I feel overwhelmed by his size. The waitress makes her way over and she instantly puts on her best smile for him. When I look at her perky twenty-something chest and body, I feel like shrinking away.

“What can I get for you all, sir?”

He doesn’t look up at her. Instead, he has those blue eyes trained on me and only me. “What would you like?” he asks.

I try not to fumble with the menu as I order the first thing I see. I can’t focus to save my life. I feel like the shy clumsy teen from my past. “I’ll have the Americano brunch special and please put these on individual tickets.”

Brisban’s hand goes up in protest. “No, that’s not necessary. I will gladly pay for our brunch. I insist.” I smile and nod in agreement. He returns the smile, happy that I didn’t fight him on the issue. I edit books day in and day out and I always see eyes described as smoldering yet I have never actually seen smoldering eyes … until now. His eyes most definitely smolder.

And it’s sexy as hell.

His face is dusted with a light, well groomed scruff and a thought flashes through my mind of what that might feel like on my inner thighs.

Damn.

The waitress has changed her tone and seems a little annoyed by him completely ignoring her perfect skin, hair and body, but I feel empowered by his lack of interest in her. All thirty-six years of me feels more like a woman already, and we’ve only just met.

“I’ll have your eggs Benedict and a water, no lemon,” he tells her. Brisban never takes his eyes off me. I never take mine off of him. The attraction flowing between us is palpable.

My head is swirling and my breathing uneasy. The fact that it’s been forever since I felt anything towards a man like this is really getting the best of me and my mind and body are taking over without permission.

“You’re blushing again,” Brisban says as the waitress walks away. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?”

That smile …

That mouth …

Those lips …

“I feel it too, you know.”

“Feel what?” I love how forward and honest he is. No games. I never imagined this would be this way.

“The mutual attraction we have.”

“You are making this so much easier,” I tell him.

“I am? How so?”

“I expected the typical first date banter. You know, the awkward conversation of avoiding the obvious.”

“This isn’t a date though, is it?” he asks, arching a brow with a slight flirty smirk.

Is this not a date? “Um, I don’t know. What would you call this?”

“A meeting. A meeting with a precise purpose.” He pauses as the waitress places our drinks in front of us.

“Your food will be out shortly,” she says before walking away.

“As I was saying, this is a meeting. A meeting to see if there is a spark. A mutual attraction per se. Ultimately, this is a meeting where we decide if…” He leans towards me, reaching across the table and taking my hand in his extremely large one. His thumb circles the area between my forefinger and thumb as he says quietly, “If we want to fuck or not.”

I’m speechless. I’ve never in my life have had a man talk to me like this. Ever.

“Candace?”

My eyes snap up and I try to form words. “Okay, a meeting. That works for me.” I’m terrible at this. Really terrible. This man is never going to want to, in his words, fuck me. I can’t even seem to carry on a relatively coherent conversation about us fucking much less actually do it.