Garrett by Sawyer Bennett

and his eyes are hot, and I’m betting a mirror would reflect that I look the same.
    “That was…um…” I start to say, then my words fail me. Because I don’t know how I could ever just describe that kiss. I’d never felt anything like it before. Damn sure never started a date off like that before.
    “Yes, it was,” he agrees with a smile. “Looking forward to doing that again.”
    I don’t know what possesses me to do it. Maybe it’s the frailty of my life or the fact that Stevie is a terrible influence on me, but I blurt out, “Or maybe more.”
    Garrett’s eyes go from hot to blistering in a nanosecond. He stares at me for a moment, then steps in closer. My heart feels like it might explode when he says, “I’ll give you whatever you want, Olivia. All you have to do is ask me.”
    So now the question remains…will I ask him to give me just a kiss at the end of the date, or will I ask him to stay all night?

Chapter 5
Garrett
    It’s a continual struggle.
    And fuck…I’ve never struggled like this before.
    Struggled to keep my cock deflated and my hands to myself.
    All night I’ve been warring with myself…sternly telling my body to get itself under fucking control.
    Practically impossible when I’ve been in the company of what I’m now coming to realize is the sexiest woman I’ve ever been around in my life. Clearly, I’m attracted to her physically. I got that loud and clear from the moment I laid eyes on her at the party. My first thoughts were—because, hey, I’m a dude—that I wanted to fuck her all night long.
    Now I’m thinking a bit differently, and I’m thinking one night might not be enough. I’ve never even tasted more than her strawberry lip gloss when we kissed, but something is telling me that once isn’t going to be enough.
    Not with a woman like this.
    Not with a woman that laughed so hard she was wheezing during the comedy show we went to, and even snorted once so loud the comedian called her out on it. She just doubled over and started laughing so hysterically, I was afraid she’d wet her pants.
    Not with a woman that pulled out a five-dollar bill and tucked it into the weathered hand of a homeless man we passed on the street as we left the comedy club.
    Not with a woman that then gently tucked her arm through mine as we walked through downtown Raleigh, in search of a quiet bar that we could get a drink in.
    And certainly not with a woman that sits across from me now as we sip at our beers, listening thoughtfully to every word I say, providing insightful and sometimes witty commentary, and laughs so sweetly I think she may be coated in sugar and dipped in honey.
    Yup…it’s been a struggle all night not to drag her into my arms and see if I can reproduce that amazing kiss we had at the start of the date. Part of me wants to end the evening now, just so I can get her back to her apartment for a good-night kiss. But the vast majority of me doesn’t want this evening to end. I want to sit here with her in this bar and continue to talk until the sun comes up, because for the first time in my life, I’m actually enjoying the company of my date.
    It’s a long shot that I’ll end up in her bed, and frankly, that’s not my goal at this point. It’s a fervent wish…but not a goal. Rather, the major event that’s probably going to happen is that I’m going to leave her standing inside her apartment door, probably after a bone-melting kiss, and then I’m going to ask her out again.
    Yes, that is a major, major event because Mr. One-Night Stand is going in for the request for a second date. And I’m nervous as shit, because I don’t know if what I’ve shown her tonight would warrant her wanting to see me again. I’m used to treating a woman to a nice meal and then finishing off the evening with an orgasm or two. I might even stay the night for a little cuddling, a bit of pillow talk, and maybe even another orgasm. But then I’m gone and she’s forgotten. I have no