With a moan, he pulled my mouth back to his.  He was the sweetest kisser, his lips soft but hesitant, not for lack of finesse, but almost a timid restraint, as though to communicate with the give of his mouth how he wanted me to proceed.  How he wanted me to take over.  That was more than fine with me.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

DON'T GET HURT

Bianca was ecstatic when I told her I had a date.

She was less thrilled when I told her whom it was with, but still supportive.

Bianca was not a romantic, but she knew that I was, and so worried about my love life.

I worried about hers more.  I knew that all of the trauma she'd suffered as a kid had left parts of her cold.   Untouchable.

She didn't go out with guys.  They asked, but I'd never seen her so much as consider it.  The only person she let in was me.  And who could blame her, after all she'd been through?

It made me sad, but I didn't know what I could do to change it.

"So he asked you out on the flight . . . or vice versa?  This all came out of nowhere."  Her tone was curious more than anything else.

I flushed.  "I guess he hit on me first, but I'm the one that asked him out."

"Oh.  Well, you must have hit it off.  You don't usually work so fast."

The flush turned into an outright blush.  She'd as good as asked, and I couldn't keep anything from her for long, even things that embarrassed me.  "We hooked up in the first class bathroom."

Her eyes widened, mouth falling open.  It was hard to shock her like this, and it made me smile a little to see her usually composed face react like that.

"Wow.   Just wow.  How did that happen?"

I bit my lip and tried to give it to her straight.  "I hardly know him, but I'm really attracted to him.  He made a pass at me, and I just . . . couldn't, or didn't want to, tell him no.  Now we're going out because I guess I just want to see if it's more than chemistry."

She nodded, face serious and studying mine now.  "Okay.  Well, good luck.  Don't get hurt."

I kissed her forehead on my way out.  "I'll try my best.  I'll bring you back takeout."

"You don't have to do that.  I can find my own food."

"I want to.  I'm taking him to that Cuban place we love."

"Oh, well then, I'll take you up on that."

"Your usual?"

She nodded and smiled, giving me a thumbs up.

I took him to a movie first.  An action flick that had been out for several weeks.  The theatre was deserted without another soul in sight, and he seemed more interested in touching me than watching the movie.

I didn't know what to make of that.  This was supposed to be a first date, not an excuse to get off in public again.

That being said, I wanted to get off again.  I wasn't proud of it, but my resolve was weakening with every touch.

"Don't you like the movie?" I asked.

He was plastered to my side, kissing my neck, his hand teasing my thigh.  "I don't know.  I can't pay attention."

"Are you bored?"

He was panting in my ear.  "Bored?"  His hand found my aching cock.  "Does this feel bored to you?"

I swallowed, my hand finally sliding off my knee onto his.  "This is supposed to be a first date.  I don't hook up on first dates."

"Let's have our first date another time then.  Let's call this something else, something where this ends with you f**king me, or me giving you a hand job in a movie theatre."

I shook my head, trying not to smile, not to encourage his audacity.

I grabbed his hand, pulling it off me, then linking our fingers together.

He seemed okay, even content, with that, squeezing my hand and shooting me happy smiles.

I didn't know what to make of that.  Did he think I'd only been asking him out to hookup?

Things were going well up until the short walk from the theatre to the restaurant, when he grabbed my hand where anyone could see.

I shook him off, shooting him a look.  "Knock it off!  Not in public, okay?"

He looked baffled.  "What does it matter?"

"We could run into someone we know.  We're only a ten minute walk from the crew hotel."

That shut him up for a while.  The silence was more than awkward.  It was full of questions I didn't want to answer, but that I knew he'd be asking and soon.

Finally, he pressed the issue.  "So you're not out.  Not at all.  You're hiding it."

I hated the way he said it, like I was doing something wrong.  I felt instantly defensive.  "It's no one's business but mine.  I like my privacy, okay?"

He went quiet again, for the rest of the walk, and I hated it.

We'd ordered our food and were one drink into the meal when he came out of it.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, his lovely black eyes warm.  "I'm being a jerk.  You have a right to your privacy.  I won't say anything.  I mean, we can keep this under wraps as long as you need."

I just nodded, not knowing what to say.  I couldn't reassure him in any way.  No matter how this went, be it one date or one hundred, I wasn't planning to make it or us common knowledge.  I'd been too fiercely secretive about my preferences for too long to change it on a whim.