Find Your Dating Partner
“Mrs Sommers?” I called as I knocked repeatedly on the new neighbors’ door.
There was no response.
“Mrs Sommers?” I tried again. Everywhere was dead silent.
I shifted restlessly on my feet; the plate of macaroons in my hand was getting heavier by the second. Mum had a terrible tradition of sending plates of food over to new neighbors until she embarrassed them into coming to visit; I wouldn’t have minded but seeing as I was her go-to errand girl, I wasn’t too amused. I love my mother but she was a busybody, I thought with a frown.
The Sommers had moved in three months ago and had shown every inclination of keeping to themselves. Mum had been after them the entire time sending plates after plates of food.
They somehow contrived to always leave the plate on our doorstep with a warm thank-you note when we weren’t in; they somehow never honored the tacit invitation to visit.
I had so much reading to do tonight and I was very eager to get to it, yet here I was stuck at a doorpost wearing my knuckles to a nub. I gingerly tried the doorknob and my eyes widened in surprise as it opened up immediately.
I pushed the door open the rest of the way and slowly entered the house. It had a warm, welcoming, homey feel, I noted looking around. The living room was huge and done in an exotic style. Even the bookshelf at the end of the room had ornate, intricately carved, foreign patterns on it.
I traipsed towards the kitchen, and gingerly set the plate on the table. I looked around for a note; I spied one on the counter and I tore off a sheet and scribbled a short note. I tucked it partway under the dish and then I turned to leave.
A sudden apparition in the kitchen door way tore a startled scream from my throat.
“Who are you?” I gasped. Even as I asked, I recognized him at once; he was Derek, the Sommers’ son but we had never been introduced.
He was half-naked, with only a towel tied around his waist. His arms were so well-muscled they seemed like tiny tree trunks; his skin glistened with droplets of water which meant he had just stepped out of the shower. His hair was so dark it was almost black; or perhaps it just looked darker because it was wet. His eyes were a startling cobalt blue; he had firm, soft-looking lips and his shoulders were so wide they seemed to go on for miles. His stomach was flat and taut with a single line of hair that headed from his navel, straight down and disappeared beneath—
I jerked my gaze upwards hurriedly feeling my face suffuse with heat.
“You’re in my kitchen! Who the hell are you?”he growled even though his eyes were checking me out.
I was probably as pink as petals, I thought, angry at my penchant for blushing. I had red hair and grey eyes, a spill-over from my mum’s Irish lineage. I was tall at 5’8 with curves in all the right places and a face that made most guys get tongue-tied or outrightly stupid. My best friend Lydia claimed I only had to walk into a room and all the guys went into zombie mood. I didn’t think so though, my face wasn’t such a big deal to me; I was convinced it was my red hair that made the entire soccer team stare and whistle every time I walked past. I was the only red-head in the entire school after all. I didn’t mind the red hair that made me stand out but I did mind the fair complexion because every time I got embarrassed, it showed!
Derek was waiting for a response and even as he did so, his gaze roved boldly down my figure. He was so hot it should be illegal!
“I’m Jenny Crawford, from next door,” I stuttered, trying hard not to swallow my tongue.
“Okay. What do you want, Jenny-Crawford-from-next-door?” he demanded with such a taunting grin that I wanted to smack him.
“My mum asked me to drop off a plate of macaroons for your mother,” I said, gesturing towards the plate on the table.
A wide grin split his face transforming his taut masculine features into one of such boyish handsomeness that my breath caught in my throat.
“Macaroons! My favorite! Your mum is one hell of a cook by the way,” he said as he rushed forward to flip the cover off the plate. He inhaled deeply and my heart warmed at the compliment. Mum would be pleased to learn that someone appreciated her efforts. It had been hard to tell given the continued reclusive nature of the Sommers.
“Are— Are your parents home?” I demanded.
“Why?” he asked, deftly stealing some macaroons with his fingers and flipping them into his mouth. “Am I not enough?”
He turned to face me and moaned a little, his eyes drifting shut in gastronomic pleasure. His tongue flicked out to lick his lips, the motion automatic and innocent; my entire insides clenched in reaction.
I took a hasty step back for self-preservation from the blast of heat that seemed to be coming from him.
“I should go,” I tossed out as I gave him a wide berth and headed for the door.
He lunged for me, “Hey! What’s the rush?”
His arm brushed mine fleetingly. I paused in my stride and turned around with a ready-made excuse on my lips. His towel chose that very instant to unwrap itself from around his hips and collapse in a white puddle at his feet.
For the first time in my eighteen years of existence on earth, I saw a real-life, honest-to-goodness penis! It was well-muscled and had to be at least twelve inches long and very thick. It was so huge my heart nearly stopped in my chest from part-fright, part-incredulity and part-fascination.
“Look away, Jenny. Look away,” I whispered to myself under my breath.
My gaze continued to caress the hard length of his penis. I couldn’t look away to save myself. Who could blame me? I had never seen a real-life honest-to-goodness penis up-close and personal before.
Time passed in seeming slow motion as Derek slowly, unselfconsciously, bent and picked his towel. He wrapped it around his waist and my heart mourned the loss.
I reluctantly lifted my gaze to meet his eyes — his heated eyes. My breath caught in my throat. He was looking at me like ice cream on a hot sunny day. My heart started to pound in dazed excitement and my palms turned clammy as though I was going to faint. Pinpoints of darkness danced in front of my eyes and I took one quick step back. I took another step backwards, my gaze still locked on his and I unwittingly stepped on something small and sharp.
I yelped in reaction and promptly lost my footing. Derek was beside me in a flash, moving so fast he’d have outdone Clark Kent. His strong masculine arms wrapped around me like a vise and held me partly bent backwards over one hand with my body shaking like a leaf against his.
Up close, I could make out tiny flecks of gold in his eyes. It was the most amazing color and my own eyes widened unconsciously.
“You’re so sweet,” he crooned softly, his gaze stroking my face. Before I could guess his intent, he leaned down and melded his lips with mine in a light, infinitely delicious kiss. I felt my senses whirl as he kissed me. I had never been kissed before; not even so much as a chaste peck. He was so incredibly delicious; he tasted like macaroons and faintly like wine.
Unbidden a moan escaped me; part-encouragement, part-protest. He gave an answering sound and one hand covered my perky, left breast; squeezing, kneading, stroking.
Desire vanished in a crash of reality at the first touch of his hand on my breast and I struggled out of his hands with a flush of embarrassment. I was breathing heavily, my chest rising and falling.
“What— What the hell?” I demanded.
I expected an insouciant grin to slash across his handsome features. He didn’t look amused though; he seemed almost lost and confused as he stared at me across the space that divided us. His eyes had dilated so much they were so dark they stopped being blue and were in fact almost black.
Slowly he licked his lower lip as though committing my taste to memory. I swallowed convulsively as his tongue trailed over every inch of his lips.
Then with a muttered “Goddamnit!” he turned and stalked from the kitchen leaving me to make my own way out.
I fled as though all the demons from hell were after me; I didn’t stop running until I reached the safety of my room.