A swell of emotions tightened my chest as our weekend replayed in my mind.
It had been perfect. He had been perfect. Kline hadn’t rushed. He’d been attentive and careful and made sure my first time was good for me. And it had been. That night had been more than good. It had been amazing.
He made me feel crazy, in the greatest, most overwhelming way. It was hard to describe. Hell, it was hard to even put it into words without saying things I wasn’t quite ready to say.
Just… God, this man… He was everything.
I felt like I was on the best roller coaster ride of my life. In the beginning, when everything started with us, I had hesitantly hopped in, mind racing: What the hell am I thinking? Is this a good idea?
The guy I’d known at work was a fair, honest, friendly guy but not one I’d ever considered. But then, it had been too late to back out because I’d been moving—we’d been moving.
We’d been climbing and whirling and twisting all crazy, and my thoughts had immediately shifted. I’m pretty sure I’ll survive, because how many people fall out of roller coasters, right?
But I didn’t really know because I’d never really paid attention to theme park statistics.
Shit, I had never really been into riding roller coasters.
Until Kline.
Every corkscrew and curve was exciting. I was enjoying every nerve-wracking minute, and I started to just let go and trust. I started to truly believe that as scary as it was, I was right where I needed to be.
Then, there was that “holy shit” turn when the bottom would drop out and my stomach would fall to my feet, but I was soaring again and screaming and laughing because I had made it. I was alive, and this—Kline and me together—was the most real, amazing thing in my life. And the ride slowed just a little bit, and the turns and twists were more like reverberations of the really crazy ones from before, but I was fine with that.
I was happy with everything.
And when I pulled into the place where I had started, I felt changed—overjoyed, enlightened, and knowing, without a doubt, I was right where I’d always wanted and needed to be.
In the craziest explanation, that was what he made me feel.
Complete. Alive. Amazing. The same but somehow very, very different.
The song switched to The Used’s “Smother Me.” The lyrics and the slow, silky beat had me looking at Kline again, drinking him in.
He sensed my eyes, glancing in my direction and smiling. One hand left the wheel, reaching for mine and entwining our fingers.
I laid my head back on the seat and just enjoyed, savored, greedily soaked up this little moment. I memorized every second, locking it up tight with the rest of my Kline memories.
We’d made a lot in a short time, but they were good ones. Every single one.
Before I knew it, Kline was hopping out of the driver’s side and opening my door. The drive had been nice and we’d made good time. He’d held my hand the entire way, his thumb caressing my fingers. We didn’t talk much, just silently enjoyed each other’s company.
Sometimes, words don’t need to be said. Sometimes, simply enjoying someone’s company, just having them beside you, just being in their presence was enough. Plus, my inner monologue had said enough for the both of us.
Since we had spent the majority of the day packing and driving, I was going to stay the night at his place. We’d take the rental car back on our way to work and get into the office a little later than usual.
That was definitely one positive for dating your boss. If he wanted to take you away on a long weekend in the Hamptons and demanded you go into work a few hours later than normal, who were you to argue?
“Let’s leave the bags,” he said, taking my hand. “I’ll grab them later.”
He handed his key off to the valet and led me into the lobby and onto the elevator.
“Did you have a good weekend, Benny?” he asked, pushing the button for his floor.
“Eh.” I shrugged. “It was okay.”
“Just okay?”
I nodded.
He stalked toward me like he was a predator and I was his prey, and he caged me against the wall. “Are you sure about that, baby?”
“It was pretty good?” I stared up at him, fighting the urge to smile.
“I have a feeling you’re trying to get me riled up.” His kissed the corner of my mouth. “Is that what you’re doing?”
“Is it working?”
His hand slid into my hair, gripping the strands. “That depends. What kind of reaction were you hoping for?”
“One that includes taking off your pants.”
“I think that can be arranged.”
His mouth was on me, kissing me hard, making my moan echo in the small confines of the cart.