“Look at us. We spent a lot of our time in school, then out in the field with our careers. A person wakes up one day and realizes they forgot to date. So here’s the most efficient way to meet people who might be about your same age, experience and education, who have the same problem.”
Ian led her into a banquet room with a large sign proclaiming Speed Daters Welcome.
“Men on the left, women on the right,” came the loud voice of a woman standing on a chair and calling to them from the other side of a bullhorn.
“Have fun,” Ian said as he made his way to the left, and she joined a group of women dressed similarly to her. Whew, she hadn’t blown that.
“We’ll take a few moments to get everyone checked in with their name tags in place. There’s wine at the front of the room, may I suggest you partake of it?” said the woman with the bullhorn.
Several of the people laughed and made their way toward the wine table. Five minutes later, she was in her seat, sporting her name tag, as well as the number eighteen, just in case the man couldn’t remember her name. She had a score sheet and a pen, and was armed with strict instructions not to write anything down until after she’d been on all the dates.
“When I blow my whistle, the men move to the left. Please do this quickly as we only have the room until nine. Let’s begin.”
A nice-looking man of about thirty or so sat across from her first. He had a sweet, friendly smile. “Hi, I’m Zach. So, do you want to have children in the future?”
Ava found herself longing for the whistle.
Luckily Ian was her fifth “date.”
“How is it going?” he asked.
“This feels more like a job interview than dating. I’ve been asked about my religion, my sexual health and my politics.”
“Well, you’re interviewing each other for the job of significant other.”
“Sounds inspiring.”
“Do I detect a note of disdain? From the woman who has no problem with a bunch of men wearing penis carvings around their necks, this, this is what you find unusual?”
“It’s so clinical.”
“Remember what you said about how most problems between a man and a woman could be solved with just a simple conversation? Think about how easy it would be if you had all potential dating land mines already out in the open?”
She hated to admit it, but he did have a point. And using her own words against her. How irritating.
The whistle sounded and Ian stood. He was successful. He was smart and funny, and in his chinos and long-sleeved polo shirt he was amazingly handsome. The epitome of what a twenty-first-century woman should want.
And although she sometimes dabbled in ancient cultures, she was all twenty-first-century woman tonight. She’d much rather spend the next seven minutes and the seven minutes after that talking with Ian. Laughing with Ian. That initial physical attraction she’d felt for him was beginning to deepen. She was beginning to want more.
She suffered through the next few men, all decent guys, but biology did strange things to a person. Not one of them seemed as interesting as Ian. Her body had found her bedmate for the time being. It just took her mind a bit to catch up.
Finally the last whistle sounded and they were free to fill out their cards. She only marked Ian’s name and number. They were free to mingle for a few minutes longer while the organizers compared cards and readied contact information. She opted for another glass of wine.
One of the organizers came by and handed them each an envelope. “How’d you do?” he asked.
Her sheet was blank. “Not one request. I must have been putting out the wrong vibes.”
He flashed her an incredulous look.
“I didn’t even score your number.”
“You already have my number.”
“How’d you do?”
Ian folded the piece of paper and tucked it into his back pocket. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Ian.”
“Fifteen.”
“Fifteen?” she asked loudly, her voice drawing the attention of several of the other daters.
Ian laughed. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your apartment.”
“Wait a minute, these were only mutual requests. You would have had to list them as wanting their contact information, as well.”
“All in the interest of research. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”
“Sounds like a male ego needing a few strokes to me,” she grumbled.
“Hey, a man’s got to take them when he can. The last woman I kissed blew me off for the sake of a book,” he said good-naturedly.
She laughed, and they walked along the canal together, the lights reflecting in the water. This being a weeknight, there wasn’t much foot traffic, and the boats that floated along the canal were docked for the night.
“Ian, after this book is over, what do you plan to do?” she asked.
He ran a hand through his hair, and looked away as if he hadn’t thought much past the book and it shocked him. “Guess I’ll head for whichever hot spot is calling and my sister wants covered.”
They walked in silence for a moment, the breeze turning cooler.
“What about you?” he asked, and for the first time she heard hesitancy in his voice.
“Maybe start working on some ideas for a new book. Send out my résumé to a few colleges. But I’d really like to take a few weeks off. Take a vacation and just look around at all of what I’ve missed.”
They rounded the corner to her apartment building. She stood on the first step and turned, staring at him eye to eye.
“Been a while since I took a vacation myself,” he said.
Ava’s heart quickened its pace. She couldn’t prevent the huge smile on her face. He reached up and cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking her bottom lip.
This was the playacting he’d been talking about earlier. The kind he said he was used to. She should look at him and say, “Ian, after this book is over, I’d like to spend more time with you.” But for some reason that scared the crap out of her. It was way scarier than telling a man you wanted him sexually.
Her eyes closed and she leaned into him. Ian met her halfway. His lips were now familiar to her. Wanted. His kiss was quick, firm and filled with promise. Then, with a final caress to her cheek, he took a step away.
“Good night, Ava.”
He stayed on her stoop until he saw her key into her apartment building. After making sure the door behind her had closed fully, Ava made her way up the stairs to the top floor slowly. She was really rethinking her decision from earlier not to self-pleasure. Her nipples tightened just from her slipping the jacket she’d worn to the restaurant off her shoulders.
In her bedroom, she let her thumbs stroke down the swell of her breasts, circling around the tips. She sucked in a breath, imagining Ian’s hands removing her bra. Ian’s fingers teasing her nipples.
But no, she’d made a decision to keep the sexual tension high, and an orgasm now would surely lessen the heat between them.
Instead she tried to focus on all things cold. Feeling a little less heated, she kicked off her shoes, slid out of her skirt and blouse and zipped up one of the ceremonial robes she’d picked up from a Polynesian island late last year.
How long she paced in front of her floor-to-ceiling bookcase in agitation she didn’t know. Her shoulders were tense, her brow was furrowed, her stomach was tight…and not in a good way. She should burn some incense. Some nice aromatherapy should really make her relax. But after a quick look through her scents, she realized every one of them was geared toward awakening sexual sensations, not relaxing.
They’d be working on the food section next. Maybe she could start preparing some of the more exotic fare.
With a smile, Ava stopped her pacing. She didn’t need to concentrate on not thinking about sex, but instead work on filling her thoughts with something completely different. She ran her fingers along some of her books, but not even those dear friends could take her mind off the heat in her blood. That man was a dangerous kisser.