He leans back and whispers, “Tell me this is okay.”

“It’s way more than okay.”

His mouth presses to mine, tentatively at first, testing the waters. His lips, which are soft yet firm, nip at mine, and then his tongue peeks out. He runs it along my bottom lip and I open my mouth. Suddenly, we’re kissing. Aggressively kissing. He pulls my body up against his, arms wrap tightly around me, his head slants, and the kiss deepens. He explores my mouth as his body presses fully against mine. I feel his hardness and strength through the thin fabric of my dress. My body becomes a live wire—goosebumps erupt from my neck to my ankles; my belly clenches; my nipples stiffen; and for the first time in my life, I get wet. From a kiss. Holy sexy hell.

We’re moving. Drew lifts me up and we’re moving as we kiss. I’m not sure where, and I don’t care, as long as he doesn’t stop kissing me. When my back hits something, we stop. Every time he takes a breath, he nips my lips, making me want more. Then one hand slides down to my hip and squeezes as he grasps me tighter, pressing me to his body. He jerks his mouth away from mine.

“Fuck. Cate. Catelyn. Cate, Cate, Cate.” A litany of Cates.

Then his mouth is back on mine for only a second and I moan in protest when he pulls away. The thought occurs to me that this is more than a mere kiss. My body tingles and my knees are weak. My fingers sink into his shoulders so I don’t crash to the sidewalk. This is something poems are written about and erotic novels are penned over. I am wet between my thighs and the only things he’s touched other than my face are my mouth and hip. Once more his lips find mine and passionately kiss me, tongue sliding against mine, turning my stomach into a knotted frenzy and making my head spin. This time when he stops, it takes me a second to collect myself.

“Come to my room with me. Please. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I swear. I just want to hold you. And stare at you. And wake up with you. And maybe I sound like some pussy whipped bitch, but I’m not ready to send you home.”

My brows must hit my hairline and I giggle. Only because I’m drunk—drunk on his kisses. I hate giggly girls, but the idea of him being a pussy whipped bitch makes me die laughing.

“Yes. Okay, I’ll come. But I won’t fuck you,” I blurt out.

“No. No fucking at all. Not one tiny little bit of fucking. I solemnly swear. Scout’s honor. God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

This man is perfect. He’s like my dream guy. And to think I almost didn’t go out with him! I wasn’t looking for this but what a huge mistake that would’ve been. He links our hands and we walk back to his room. I hope this is real and not the alcohol making me feel this way. I stop for a second and pinch my arm.

“What’s wrong? Did a bug bite you?”

“No. I only wanted to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.” And in an instant, his arms wrap around me, his mouth hovering over mine.

“You’re not dreaming, Cate. This is the real deal.” And he kisses me again, stealing every bit of my air away. When he finally breaks the kiss off, I run my fingers over his lips.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why I didn’t jump at the chance to go out with you? What the hell was wrong with me?” Then I realize I’m sounding stupid and I’ve said the words out loud. I need to shut my mouth before I scare the poor man away.

“That’s why I had that goal, Cate.”

“I have a confession to make,” I say, as we start walking again.

“Yeah?”

“I tripped on purpose. I wanted an excuse to touch you.”

He stops, and faces me.

“Seriously?”

I nod and he kisses me again. “I knew when I saw you at that party, we were going to click.” Soon, the Union looms in front of us and I’m suddenly nervous. What if we get naked? Oh, no! I haven’t done any muffin-scaping. No shaving or waxing. Nada! I look like an overgrown grizzly down below. Oh fuck! What am I going to do? This is so unexpected; I never imagined we’d get past dinner! Maybe I can sneak into the bathroom and use his razor. But then I look at his face and remember he’s sporting a bit of scruff, so I doubt he even brought one for the night. Shit-doodle.

“What is it? Please don’t say you’re having second thoughts. I promise Cate, we can just sit and talk. I only want to spend time with you.”

“I know. I trust you, Drew.” And oddly enough, I do.

As my thoughts travel back to the possibilities, it comes to me. I can say I don’t get naked ever on first dates. Yes. That’s it. Perfectly reasonable and acceptable. We make it to his room and he asks if I care for something to drink. I ask for a water. In minutes, one is in my hand, which I greedily drink.

The way he stares at me, I’m guessing he knows I’m nervous.

“You have regrets, don’t you?”

I shake my head. “It’s not that.”

“Please tell me. I don’t want anything to weigh on your mind.”

My stupid, stupid mouth blurts right out, “I look like an overgrown grizzly below the waist.”

“Huh?”

I suppose being a man, he just doesn’t understand. So I raise my index finger and then aim it directly between my thighs.

It’s obvious when the light bulb goes on because he smiles. Hugely. “It’s fine. I didn’t plan on us getting naked, anyway.”

Okay, so I just told him my deepest darkest most humiliating secret—well almost most humiliating—for nothing? I embarrassed myself to death, for no purpose whatsoever? I want to crawl in a hole and die. I do the only thing I know. I grab the nearest pillow and bury my face in it. The most beautiful man I’ve ever met, with the most gorgeous eyes on the planet, sits before me, and I just told him that my muffin looks like Sasquatch. This goes down as the most humiliating moment of my life, replacing the dickwad. I will never live this down. Ever.

LIVELY MUSIC AND MY LIVELIER coworkers, fill the lounge. But I see and hear none of it. I stare into the mirror on the back of the bar wondering whose reflection I see. I barely recognize the woman staring back at me with the vacant eyes. Drew… Andy is here in town. It’s been three days since I saw him and I can’t get him out of my head.

“Cate, you’re too quiet. This is a celebration. We’ve completed the Caine account. Maybe now we can sleep for more than four hours a night.” Daniel grins and puts a tumbler to his lips. “At least until our meeting next Monday to discuss our next project.”

He laughs at his own joke as Mandy strolls over with two drinks in her hand. She leans down to whisper in my ear. “I’m not sure what’s going on with you tonight, but you will celebrate.”

I take the proffered drink feeling like a daisy downer. She lifts up her glass and my team of coworkers all raise their glasses. Not wanting to be the odd man out, I do the same and plaster a smile on my face.

“To us and especially Cate. Without her last minute save we all might be in the office reworking the project,” Mandy announces.

“To Cate,” everyone toasts.

“To the team,” I counter. “There’s no I in team. We all put in the hours and we all will, hopefully, reap the rewards.”

“Here, here!” comes a chorus of cheers.

I have no idea if we will get bonuses for completing the job on time other than the day off we were given. Still, a girl can hope. I toss back the shot with no idea what kind of liquor it is.

The burn hits my throat and I feel the cinnamon taste not only in my mouth, but in the tears that form in my eyes. It’s a Fireball! When my eyes pop out of my head, Mandy thumps my back as if I were choking. I keep my mouth closed for fear I will breathe out fire like a dragon.

“It’ll put hair on your chest,” Mandy chirps. Her honey brown curls bounce as if she’s unable to contain all the energy she has inside her. “At least that’s what Dad told my brothers when they had their first taste of alcohol.”