After our day at Studio 8 in downtown Pittsburgh, Guy and I walked through the parking lot and climbed into his 2016 Prius. He drove us home for quick showers and a change of clothes. We had a scheduled dinner at Bruberry’s Bed and Breakfast, within walking distance from our apartment.
After kissing me at a red light and running one of his paws through my hair, he said, “Goddamn, you’re a handsome man. I’m almost jealous of your looks.”
He studied my ink-black hair and bright blue eyes, dimples, and clean-shaven chin and cheeks. Guy checked out my thirty-six-year-old frame, liking my 180 pounds and six-one height. He kissed me again and pulled away.
“Honestly, I just want to take you home and do naughty things to you.”
“Trust me, I won’t stop you from doing that,” I admitted.
Guy beca
