have to consider the possibility of it being a long distance thing. I wanted to take what we were building further. I can make this work. Can’t I? I have to make it work. When will I ever meet another guy as remarkable as John? What I did know was that I was really falling hard for him and, after such a fabulous night, I wanted nothing more than to keep it going. I made the decision that I was taking him home tonight. We got to his car and he put the key in the ignition. He stopped himself from turning over the engine and turned his head to look at me.
“Mandy, I had such a fantastic night with you. You’re a special person, and I feel really grateful to have met you, not just because of what you did for Liz,” he gently kissed my hand. “Do you want to get a coffee or anything?”
“No, thanks, I’m kinda tired,” I answered with a lie. I had no intention of going to bed anytime soon. I planned on spending my night fucking the hell out of him and, with any luck, hopefully making him breakfast.
“All right, no problem.” He tried to hide that his face fell, but I caught it. “I’ll take you home,” he said, starting the car, and we were on our way. He resumed his storytelling, and I gladly listened, gaining insight on what had shaped this wonderful man next to me. It was almost 10 when we pulled into my driveway. He left the car running, got out, and walked around to open my door for me.
“Can I walk you to your door?” he asked. I appreciated and actually admired all this gentleman stuff, especially because it seemed to be a rarity nowadays, but I wasn’t going to let it cock block me. As he came around the car, I grabbed his keys and shut it off. I stepped out , and he closed the car door behind me.
“You’re wasting gas.” I couldn’t come up with a better excuse as I handed him the car keys.
He laughed. “I guess you’re right. Every little bit helps, right?”
What was with this every little bit helps bit he says? First the usher with slipping him the tip and now 30 seconds of saving gas.
“What’s with that?” I had to ask. “Every little bit?”
“I’ve been witness to a lot of things while serving, but if you’ve known real struggle more than you’d like, then you would know just what a little bit in many different meanings would have. I won’t cry or whine about what I couldn’t or didn’t have growing up. What these people consider living conditions is insane. Even what we have is far from the Ritz.” He was solemn as he looked away.
“I guess I can’t really complain,” I told him. “But I do know struggle. My grandparents raised me. My Gramps died from a heart attack when I was eleven, and my Grandma Kat passed away when I was twenty, so I’ve been on my own the last five years trying to make ends meet.” I couldn’t help but feel slightly offended.
“That’s not exactly a struggle. You have a good life, Mandy. Trust me,” he gave a half smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, or imply anything. I could spend days telling you stories.”
“It’s fine, really. Apology accepted, and I would love to hear them sometime, but I have a feeling they’re not warm and happy, so tonight I’ll pass.” I grabbed his hand and led him to my front door. Unlocking and opening the door, I turned to face him. He looked like he was unsure what to do. I took his hand and pulled him inside behind me.
“I need to be honest,” I confessed. “I lied about being tired. I really just wanted to get you home with me.”
“Mission accomplished,” he said, sounding relieved. “That reminds me of…”
I sprang onto my tippy toes and planted my lips on his before he could start telling me another story. The kiss quickly became passionate. He kicked the door shut and swooped me off the floor with ease, cradling my body in his arms and looking around.
“Bedroom’s that-a-way,” I said, pointing up the stairs. He carried me up and gently laid me on my bed. I
“Mandy, I had such a fantastic night with you. You’re a special person, and I feel really grateful to have met you, not just because of what you did for Liz,” he gently kissed my hand. “Do you want to get a coffee or anything?”
“No, thanks, I’m kinda tired,” I answered with a lie. I had no intention of going to bed anytime soon. I planned on spending my night fucking the hell out of him and, with any luck, hopefully making him breakfast.
“All right, no problem.” He tried to hide that his face fell, but I caught it. “I’ll take you home,” he said, starting the car, and we were on our way. He resumed his storytelling, and I gladly listened, gaining insight on what had shaped this wonderful man next to me. It was almost 10 when we pulled into my driveway. He left the car running, got out, and walked around to open my door for me.
“Can I walk you to your door?” he asked. I appreciated and actually admired all this gentleman stuff, especially because it seemed to be a rarity nowadays, but I wasn’t going to let it cock block me. As he came around the car, I grabbed his keys and shut it off. I stepped out , and he closed the car door behind me.
“You’re wasting gas.” I couldn’t come up with a better excuse as I handed him the car keys.
He laughed. “I guess you’re right. Every little bit helps, right?”
What was with this every little bit helps bit he says? First the usher with slipping him the tip and now 30 seconds of saving gas.
“What’s with that?” I had to ask. “Every little bit?”
“I’ve been witness to a lot of things while serving, but if you’ve known real struggle more than you’d like, then you would know just what a little bit in many different meanings would have. I won’t cry or whine about what I couldn’t or didn’t have growing up. What these people consider living conditions is insane. Even what we have is far from the Ritz.” He was solemn as he looked away.
“I guess I can’t really complain,” I told him. “But I do know struggle. My grandparents raised me. My Gramps died from a heart attack when I was eleven, and my Grandma Kat passed away when I was twenty, so I’ve been on my own the last five years trying to make ends meet.” I couldn’t help but feel slightly offended.
“That’s not exactly a struggle. You have a good life, Mandy. Trust me,” he gave a half smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, or imply anything. I could spend days telling you stories.”
“It’s fine, really. Apology accepted, and I would love to hear them sometime, but I have a feeling they’re not warm and happy, so tonight I’ll pass.” I grabbed his hand and led him to my front door. Unlocking and opening the door, I turned to face him. He looked like he was unsure what to do. I took his hand and pulled him inside behind me.
“I need to be honest,” I confessed. “I lied about being tired. I really just wanted to get you home with me.”
“Mission accomplished,” he said, sounding relieved. “That reminds me of…”
I sprang onto my tippy toes and planted my lips on his before he could start telling me another story. The kiss quickly became passionate. He kicked the door shut and swooped me off the floor with ease, cradling my body in his arms and looking around.
“Bedroom’s that-a-way,” I said, pointing up the stairs. He carried me up and gently laid me on my bed. I
Similar Books
