There were shoes at the door, and given he was barefoot, I took it he had a no shoe policy. I exhaled slowly, and he stood back, silently inviting me inside. That steal-my-breath, make-my-dick-twitch kind of smile. "You said eight?"Īnd when I looked at him, he was smiling. "Ah, hang on," his voice called from somewhere inside.īouncing on my toes, I briefly asked myself what the fuck was I doing-when he opened the door.ĭark blue jeans, a white button down shirt-and bare feet. The next thing I knew, I was walking across the street into his apartment building and knocking on door 7F. Maybe it was his black hair, his dark skin, his smile… Something I was drawn to the second I saw him. I was waiting for the rational part of my brain to tell me to keep driving and forget about him.īut he was just as vulnerable as I was. If it ended badly, or if he was careless with a look, a touch, a comment, he could expose me. He was too close to the guys at work, the gym, my real life. Part of me was thinking this was reckless. There was something about him that had me sitting in my car, all nervous about going inside. This was about to breach the rules I'd lived by for years.īut there was something about him, his dark eyes, his smile… It was big enough that if I was spotted parked here or even seen going inside, there was no way anyone could know who I was visiting.
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