Free The Sun and the Moon (Giving You ... #1) by Leslie McAdam

truths about life. I smiled.  "It doesn't bother me, if it doesn't bother you."
    "Nope."
    I learned, as dinner went on, that he was devoted to his younger sister. That he surfed almost every day. That he had surfed competitively but stopped. That he really loved Kona and roasting coffee beans in small batches.  Then he admitted that he was a Harry Potter fan, and he liked Luna Lovegood the best. "Something about the moon," he muttered. This might work. As he talked, I found myself thinking that there might be more here than just me jumping his bones.  I liked the guy.  It was more than just physical attraction.
    Relax, Amelia. This was a first date.
    Once we got to the end of dinner, I felt happy and satisfied. A great dinner companion, he asked me questions, listened to the answers, talked about himself, and answered my questions. I loved finding out about him. He was so much more than a coffee shop surfer dude.
    But still, the whole meal, all I wanted to do was crawl into his lap, take off his clothes, and get creative.
    When I put down my wine glass at the end of dinner, I think he read the look on my face. "I'm not just a quick fuck, Amelia. Not with you. Not ever with you."
    "Well, that's good to know," I said sarcastically, resorting to my usual habit of snark when I was faced with sincerity.
    "You need to know something about me. I'm a sensualist."
    I looked at him blankly.
    "I explore pleasure," he explained patiently.
    "Oh," I breathed, thoughts of sarcasm having vanished immediately.
    "That means that I like to take my time. I like to feel things. I like to sense things. I like to explore. Can you handle that? Or are you the type who thinks that pleasure is bad?"
    "Pleasure is bad," I repeated, semi-seriously.
    He gave me a wicked grin.
    "Let me see what I can do to convince you otherwise."
    "But you're not going to do anything to me tonight?"
    "No.  Not because I don't want to, but because I do."
    "That doesn't make sense. Can I jump you ?"
    He laughed. "Look, I'm not apologizing for what happened in the hallway at Southwinds. Fuck, that was hot. But I want to get to know you."
    I had to keep myself from whining. "How long is this self-imposed moratorium?"
    "Until tomorrow. I think I can hold out that long."
    "So we're talking midnight, right? Lawyer here wants to know the parameters."
    "Until midnight," he affirmed.
    "Are you going to stay until then?"
    He laughed. "If you want me to. We'll see how it goes. In the meanwhile, I may ask you to show me your Ollivander wand, Hermione."
    "Bastard," I muttered.
    "What's something I need to know about you that you haven't told me?"  He looked at me intently, open and curious.
    "Isn't that a bit heavy for a first date?"
    "Nope." He waited and shrugged. "No pressure."
    "Well, I could tell you the story about how I've been clinically depressed for more than a year, and am on antidepressants that make it so that you're the first man to make me come in quite a while."
    Okay.  I could not believe that I just blurted that one out. I blamed it on the wine. And the fact that the damn Sun God made me actually feel comfortable. But this admission did not seem to faze him.
    He looked at me, green eyes to blue, and said, "I want to know more about your depression, and what's happened to you, but you need to know that I'm up for any orgasm challenge you throw at me. Now, any interest in chocolate cake?"

 
    Midnight
     
     
    AT 8:33 P.M. BY THE time on the microwave, which I had determined was the fastest clock in the house, Ryan tugged on my earlobe gently. As I turned toward him, he slipped a fork, speared with a small bite of chocolate cake, into my parted lips. I must have made a moaning noise, because I caught him adjusting his pants.
    At 9:05 p.m. he crouched down like a football player getting ready for a tackle, charged me, put his broad shoulder against my waist, hoisted me over his back like I weighed half of what I did, and carried me out of the kitchen, insisting