Matched

They both smile, and it makes me laugh to

see how happy they are that I have someone.

"I hope his cooking skills are better than mine," my dad says with a grin. "Although I had the leftover chicken parmesan tonight and it was just as good as last night."

"Have fun, sweetheart," my mom says from the sofa.

I say goodbye and leave, but before I can get into the car, I hear my cell ding and check my messages.

Marina.

Damn…

MARINA: Hey, sug, what's up? Feel like me bringing some popcorn over and we can watch the new episode? I missed it last night.

I bite my bottom lip. I have to lie.

INDIA: Sorry. No can do. I have work to do tonight for a big meeting with one of our suppliers next week. Maybe tomorrow?

I wait for her response.

MARINA: K. Talk later. Bye

INDIA: Bye.

I put my cell in my bag and drive off, feeling very guilty that I'm lying to her, but I don't need a lecture, especially after it was so hard for me to finally make a real decision. I don’t want her doubts to start creeping into my mind.

I had enough of them on my own.

I get home and have a quick shower, wanting to be as fresh as I can because I suspect that once Jon arrives, we won't be doing any cooking until we've fucked at least once. Knowing Jon, it'll probably end with me having two orgasms to his one.

After my shower, I check out my closet and select a sexy black sundress with thin straps and a plunging neckline. It has a single zipper in the back and a built-in bra so Jon won’t have to do any fumbling with the catch. I slip on a fresh pair of undies, selecting a lacy black thong. I glance at myself out in the mirror, expecting that Jon will make me stand before him in my heels and thong. I look good.

The doorbell rings and I check my face in the bathroom mirror once before answering it.

There he stands, looking like a million dollars or so, in a fresh white button-down shirt and black chinos. The white shirt highlights his pale blue eyes, and his longish hair is freshly washed. He must have just stepped out of a shower as well, because the ends are still wet.

He leans against the doorjamb, one hand in his pocket, and the other behind his back. He smiles at me in that sexy way, then brings his hand out from behind his back. In it is a bouquet of flowers – white tulips with several large hydrangeas and baby's breath.

"For my lady."

I take them from him and admire the hydrangeas. He knows me so well – purple hydrangeas are my favorite flower.

"Thank you," I say, and stand on my toes to kiss him. "They're beautiful."

He slips his hand around my waist and pulls me against him. I can’t slip away and he kisses me again, deeply this time.

When the kiss ends, he doesn't say a word, just pushes me inside and closes the door.

"At least let me put these in water first," I say in protest when he pushes me up against the wall and kisses me again, his hands already squeezing my butt and one breast.

"Be quick," he says, his voice throaty.

I slip away from him, grinning, and he follows me, watching while I find a vase in the bottom cupboard and fill it with water. I break the tiny packet of flower food open and pour it in, and then I carefully cut each stem on an angle and arrange the flowers. I take my time and I can tell Jon's getting impatient, but when I glance over at him, he's smiling, his arms folded like he's trying to be indulgent.

"You like to make me suffer?" he says when I finish arranging the flowers. I take them into the dining room, placing them in the middle of the table. I stand and admire it while he comes up behind me, his arms slipping around my waist, his face in the crook of my neck. He nibbles at my neck for a moment, and I close my eyes and just let myself enjoy it.

No words are spoken. Instead, we stand like that, his arms around me, his mouth on my neck. He pulls down one strap to expose my shoulder and then cups one breast through the fabric, squeezing gently.