The Blind Date by Landish, Lauren (suggested reading .txt) 📕

tell her, stroking her hand with my thumb. “But in the meantime, I should go. Today’s been one hell of a day, and we both need to process everything.”

Riley nods robotically but walks me to her door. When she reaches for the knob, I say her name quietly. “Riley.”

She looks up at me, and I reach out, cupping the back of her head. She doesn’t resist me. Instead, she takes a half-step forward, standing on her tiptoes as I slowly lower my head to hers, giving her every chance to stop me. But she doesn’t, and our lips meet. It’s sweet and hot and everything I’ve ever dreamed of in a first kiss. I pull her in a little tighter, and she whimpers, falling into me. Her hands grasp at my chest, pulling at me as she opens up to me.

I could push her against the door, pin her body with mine and touch her. I could take her into my arms and carry her to her bedroom, strip her clothes off, and have a night of such intense physical passion that my balls would be drained for a month.

But I don’t want a night. I don’t want to drain my cock and be done with her. That isn’t why I answered her on BlindDate.

I want more.

I deepen the kiss, chasing her tongue with mine and burning my name—Noah—into her mouth, wanting to make sure she knows exactly who’s kissing her. And that I’m the same man who’s been messaging with her.

Me. Noah Mark Daniels.

I’m Riley’s ninety-six percent match. But I find that I don’t even care about the statistics and algorithms anymore. I can feel it, deep in my spirit or soul or whatever it is inside you that tells you that you’ve found someone special. Someone to hold on to.

And I’m not a man who believes in all that mumbo-jumbo soulmate stuff. A week ago, I would’ve laughed and called it a marketing ploy we could capitalize on for BlindDate. But now, all I know is that I can’t imagine not waking up tomorrow and texting Riley good morning first thing, not hearing about her day, not kissing her lips again.

“Think about that too,” I whisper when our lips part. “Because I want to give you this feeling every fucking day. Goodnight, Riley.”

Riley sighs dreamily, and I slide out her door before Raffy can follow me. I keep it together driving home, but by the time my door’s closed, I can’t take it any longer. My brain whirls with the taste of Riley on my lips, the soft natural scent of her skin, the way her shorts clung to her hips. Even the way her oversized T-shirt hinted at the luscious curves underneath without revealing all, letting me feel them when I pulled her to me and her soft breasts pressed against me. Fuck, that was sexy as hell.

I collapse onto the sofa, practically tearing my jeans open as I pull my cock out. Guiltily, I pull up Riley’s Instagram, finding that picture I love the most, her doing almost a Marilyn Monroe like pose on the edge of a fountain. Her right calf is turned in such a way that it looks exactly like the Riley I saw tonight, and I get even harder.

“Oh, yes, Noah,” she whimpers as her thighs fall open and she presents herself to me. I press the head of my cock against her wetness, and we moan in tandem as her warm, slick tightness envelops me.

There’s an instant as her hips touch mine that she gasps, stretched to her limits, but it’s a sexy sound that has her wrapping her legs around my waist.

“Fuck me, Noah,” she begs as I trap her underneath me, my arms caging her pretty face. “Make me yours.”

My hips rise and fall on their own, a thousand sensations pulsing through me with each stroke as she meets me. In her soft whispers, her fingernails on my shoulders, the way she clenches around me, she encourages me to go harder, faster, deeper.

Without saying it, she tells me that I can be totally open with her. That I can find not just rest but strength and acceptance.

That she’ll be the sunshine to my darkness.

“Riley!” I grunt, my eyes rolling up as my cock jerks in my fist, thick ropes of cum spurting up onto my abs.

“Damn,” I gasp. I don’t think I’ve come that hard in a long time, and based on the throbbing sensation in my cock, it’s a little surprised too.

Still panting, I notice that I’m not softening. It’s not a totally unfamiliar sensation, but I have to be horny as fuck for it to happen.

Riley has done that to me.

“Might as well do round two in the shower. Best way to avoid chapped dick . . . that’s no good for anyone.”

I don’t admit, even to the empty room, that I want to be sure I’m in tip-top shape in case Riley makes a decision sooner rather than later.

Are you assuming she’s going to say yes to dating you? my inner voice asks.

Absolutely, I tell myself. No other option is acceptable. I hope.

Chapter 9 Riley

“Ooh, someone’s got new toys!” Hazel calls out, nudging the woman next to her excitedly. There’s a whole table full of women in the dining room at the senior center, all waiting for me. Or at least the goodies I’ve brought. And it’s an armload.

It’s another benefit of my deal with Joroast—they send me more products than I could ever possibly use, and I get to share the wealth. I always pick out my favorites and do videos or photos with them, adding in the appropriate hashtags and highlighting all the fabulous features of the new packaging or gorgeous colors. But not every product works for every person, and those are the ones I’ve brought today.

I set down the bags, the bottles making a loud clunk on the table. Peering in the first bag to make sure nothing spilled, I grin excitedly, looking