Page 23 of Sweet Dreams

His head cocked, a puppy-ish movement that softened the moment. “Well, almost. I was going to put you down though. Can you walk?”

“Oh, yes! Sure. Definitely, can do.” Cringing at my awkwardness, I loosened my hold on his shoulders as he released my legs, carefully guiding me down to the ground. To my horror, my knees actually shook for a quick moment, my pussy sending another little tendril of pleasure down my nerves before I placed a hand against the wall and braced myself.

To my surprise, Zaldi moaned softly, then stepped away.

“I’ve got it now,” I whispered, suddenly shy in the darkness. There was a part of me that craved the idea of him sweeping me back up. There was another that wanted me to run – far and fast and never looking back. Because nothing had ever felt like this. Ever.

Shaking, I lifted my eyes to his.

“I wasn’t lying, you know. I’ve never done anything like this before. Not really.”

His molten eyes burned back at me, “I know, Lulu.”

“I know it might feel crazy, but…wait–what?”

“I know,” Zaldi said, his voice a rasp. My mouth dropped open, a hundred more questions immediately cropping up. “Let’s get you home, okay? It’s been a long day.”

My lips smacked, soundless and silent as his hands closed over mine, tugging me out of the alleyway and back onto the street. Under the soft light of the streetlamps, I found myself hopelessly tongue-tied in this man’s presence.

He was familiar. He was foreign. He felt like heaven and burned like hell. And, I had no idea what to do about any of it. So, I let him tow me along, a bobbing ship in the storm of my emotions and thoughts, until I found myself standing beside the ancient sedan I had borrowed once again this morning.

“Here we are,” Zaldi said softly, talking to me slowly. Perhaps he was also concerned about my frazzled mental state. I’m sure it didn’t help that I stared at him, then the car, and then him again as if I’d never seen any of it.

Because how had we gotten so far across town without me saying a word.

Oh God, this was the worst best date of my life.

“Oh, uh. Great. This is mine. Well-actually it’s grandpa’s but you know, I’ve been driving it.”

Zaldi blinked. “Of course. I wanted to make sure you got home safe.” He reached out to touch the sedan’s roof. “Would you like me to drive you?”

“Oh, God, no.” I waved a hand between us. “I swear I’m good.”

Zaldi gave me a long look, then extended a hand towards me. “All the same, can I put my number in? You can text me when you get home safely.”

For a moment, I was shocked I didn’t have his number already. More proof of how horrible I really was at this. “Of course, that sounds great.” I fished my phone out, handing the device to him with an embarrassed huff. He took it, that smile still in place and quickly typed something into it.

“I had fun tonight,” I said suddenly, filling the silence, then cringing. Zaldi looked up at me and we held each other’s gazes for a long moment, then burst out laughing at the mutual awkwardness.

“I did too,” he said, voice still twanging with humor. “I want to see you again.”

I took the phone back, “Same.”

Zaldi slowly leaned in, the scent of him washing over me as he drew close. “Let me know when you’re home safe.”

I thought he was going to kiss me, and my body arched into his. But, it wasn’t a kiss. Oh God, he was just gripping the car door handle, tugging hard to open it for me. Every bit of skin from my scalp to my toes lit on fire. Afraid to speak, in case I further made a fool of myself, I tucked myself into the front seat and closed the door after me.

The headlights lit up the small newspaper backyard, and then, as I backed out, Zaldi stepped into the orbs of light. His hands in his pockets, he was the picture of quiet, serious masculine beauty.

My stomach clenched and I smiled brightly, even if I wasn’t sure he could see me. And that smile stayed on my face the entire drive home. Pulling into my grandparents drive, I walked to the back door, my mind a vivid replay of burning hot moments and horrifying embarrassment. By the time I made it into the kitchen I had pulled out my phone and shot the new number in my phone with a quick note.

“I’m home,” I read as I typed, “Thank you for a great night.” And, thank you for the monumental orgasm that I still can’t believe I had, plastered against the back of a public movie theater, I added mentally.

Still flushing hot, I turned to the fridge, gasping as the lights in the dining nook suddenly flashed to life. My grandfather sat in the straight-backed chair.

“Holy shit, Grandpa, you scared me to death,” I said, plastering a hand over my heart. I expected him to laugh with me, but instead his face was silent. Quiet.

“Lulu,” he said, his voice halting and slow, “I need your help.”