“What about you?”

“I don’t know,” I answer. “I just thought you were hot.”

Truth. Really hot.

We both laugh.

“Come on,” he says, “there’s got to be more to it than that.”

“Well,” I tell him, “you’re difficult.”

“That’s attractive?” he asks, smiling.

“Yeah,” I answer, “not really. It’s not that in and of itself, I guess, but it’s more the fact that you’re willing to stand up for what you feel is right, but you’re also willing to compromise when it really comes down to it. Not always, though,” I add. “You can be pretty pigheaded.”

“So,” he says, “does that mean the infatuation has already worn off?”

“I don’t know,” I answer, looking him up and down. “I’d say the attraction’s there; I’m just trying to figure you out.”

“What do you want to know?” he asks.

“If you could have the one thing you want most in life, would you give up everything else to get it?” I ask.

He looks at me and takes a drink.

As far as he’s concerned, this is just a question that I ask people. I doubt he knows that I know.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I used to want to say yes to that question, but I think there’s just always more to want. How would I know that one single thing would be enough? Maybe the things I’d be giving up would be necessary in order to have a full life. I guess it would come down to a case by case basis.”

He’s testing me.

A lot of his answer is new, but he came pretty close to quoting my response to the question directly, too.

“What about you?” he asks, searching for any sign that I’ve got it figured out yet.

“I don’t know about that,” I tell him. “I think that if you really want something, you’ve got to go for it. Consequences be damned.”

Now I’m testing him. That’s nowhere near the answer I gave him last time and I’m kind of hoping that he’s going to call me on it so we can move past this whole charade.

“I guess I can see that,” he says. “Although, in my experience, you never really know until you’re already there. Life is a series of choices. We try to make our choices, planning ahead, but there’s never any guarantee that the outcome is going to be what we’re anticipating. Doing something that seems like it’s the healthiest thing in the world might turn out to be one of the worst decisions you’ve ever made. Doing something that seems stupid or impulsive on the other hand, well that’s just a mixed bag like everything else.”

“If I didn’t know any better, Eric,” I say, “I’d think you were hitting on me.”

“Oh, we wouldn’t want that,” he says. “After all, you are the big boss lady.”

He’s moving toward me slowly, that look in his eyes that has me ready to melt, but I stay in character.

“So you’re basically saying that no matter what we do, we can never expect an outcome?” I ask.

“Kind of,” he says, “yeah.”

“Wouldn’t that mean that it doesn’t really matter what a person chooses to do?” I ask as he gets within a couple inches of me.

I’m looking up at him as he’s looking down at me and he answers, “I don’t know if it’s that simple. I think there are some choices that will almost always end badly and some choices that will almost always end positively. What I’m really talking about are the leaps of faith,” he says. “Sometimes it takes just that extra inch of courage to take a leap that you might not otherwise be prepared to take.”

“It sounds like you have something specific in mind,” I smile.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m wondering what would happen if I kissed you right now.”

He’s already bending down and, despite the fact that I’ve hardly made any progress in my fact-finding mission, there isn’t a single part of me that wants to turn my head or walk away.

Our lips meet, the salty tang of his skin mixed with the orange juice and liquor fills my senses and I put my arms over his shoulders.

We kiss deeply, our tongues timid, but playful as we test his personal chaos theory.

He pulls away and I stare into his deep green eyes.

“So, was that a mistake?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” he says. “It didn’t feel like a mistake to me.”

“Yeah, that felt rather nice,” I assent.

As much as I’d like to think through all of this, it’s all I can do to keep my feet on the floor.

I know I’m attracted to him and, for now at least, that’s enough for me to tilt my head back again and welcome the taste and touch of his lips on mine.

My hands move on their own over his firm upper body, and I can taste the adrenaline that’s surging through my body.

With a simple motion, he lifts my shirt up and off, and I respond in kind, feeling his warm skin pressing into mine.

I’m not ready to take this all the way just yet, but I have a feeling that inclination isn’t going to take very long to land.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers before kissing my lips again and wrapping his strong arms around me.

My eyes are closed now as we continue to kiss and I can feel myself sinking into him, my knees barely capable of keeping me upright.

He pulls away again, and I push him backward lightly, giving myself enough room to reach behind my back and unhook my bra.

“We should probably go somewhere a little more comfortable,” I breathe. “I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to stand, and I’d like to have a nice soft place to land.”

He smiles and takes my hand, leading me out to the living room, but as he goes to release my hand, I only grasp his tighter and lead him through the apartment to my bedroom.

I don’t know where this is going to go after tonight, but for now at least, tonight is enough to know that I want to do this.

“Lie down,” he tells me and I do.

He bends down and unbuttons my pants, kissing just below my navel as he slides the fabric off of my legs and onto the floor.

I’d anticipated that I’d meet the man on the other end of the phone and, although I didn’t know where it would go or how far it would go, I’m the kind of woman who likes to be prepared for all eventualities.

His fingers slip between my thin, black tanga and my skin and slide them off of me easily.

Eric runs his hands up my legs and over my thighs, kissing my knees and all the way up toward my center.

“Take your pants off,” I tell him.

He stops what he’s doing and smiles.

“What?” I ask. “I thought you said you liked a woman who knows how to get what she wants.”

He chuckles and undoes his pants, pulling them and his dark boxers down and steps out of them.

Irene wasn’t lying. Eric is—let’s just say he’s a big boy.

His hands move back up my thighs and over my stomach while his mouth kisses the inside of my legs, staying just far enough away from my core to tantalize me, make me want it even more.

When his lips finally graze my folds, that electricity that I’ve so long forgotten returns and I gasp deeply as he flicks his tongue over my clit.

His hands move back down my body and wrap around my thighs, holding me in place as his lips and tongue speak silent, breathless verses that flow throughout my entire body, and I writhe in sweet anguish as I can feel myself growing ever wetter with his touch.

He moves one hand up to grasp mine while with the other he punctuates his ode, at first playing with my wetness and then plunging two fingers inside of me.

I’m gritting my teeth to keep from wailing in ecstasy as I marvel that it can feel so intense, my hips responding to his every touch, inviting him to come closer, feel every part of me.

With my free hand, I run my fingers through his hair and then up my own body, grasping my breast and delighting in the rigidity of my nipples as his tongue traces forgotten shapes over my most sensitive skin.

“That’s it,” I whisper, “right there.”

With his fingers inside of me, he’s rubbing my g-spot with a deftness I know I’ve never felt.