Rachel Collins is praying. And not for world peace. Thirty six years old and single, her prayer is self-centered. "Kill me now, Lord," she pleads during her latest attempt to meet Mr. Right via the internet.
She’s not hoping for a billionaire or even a millionaire, just a guy who can strike a spark to her tinder! Is she asking too much? She's a great gal! Just ask her parents! She might be a bit naive about some things, but capable enough- she's a correspondent for a major magazine, after all. So there!
On assignment she meets Michael, 42 years old, also a writer. The attraction is immediate and intense. Rachel, who sees vanilla as only a baking ingredient, enchants him. Michael can whip up some pretty hot delights himself, outside of the kitchen. He introduces a curious Rachel to powerful experiences of sensuality. Her Ladylike sense of propriety engages in a running battle with her now sparked Tinderbox desires.
Michael is an excellent cook and knows how to turn up the heat. Sampling the flavors offered, Rachel experiences humorous hiccups. On a date, Michael ramps up the risqué, resulting in a memorable skirt swirling salsa dance. Rachel's "What the hell, I ain't getting any younger" attitude spurs Michael to take her to the exclusive, adults only club Pandora's. Here, Rachel witnesses even more variations of earthly delights, and begins a lifelong friendship with another guest.
Michael is a realist, convinced that within 90 days, his affair with Rachel will be but another painful memory of loss. He is neither willing nor able to yell 'Geronimo' and fall for her. He can't, and that's that.
Maybe he should just get a damn dog.
This modern, urban, grown up love story is a recipe –three cups romance and one cup of slapdash humor. Blend in spices of eroticism, and beat until smooth.
He’s taking me home! Back to his castle to ravish and claim me. Ohmygod.
She gazed at him with bare longing in her eyes. Naked longing. She had never experienced desire like this. Was it because he was controlling the moment? Normally she directed where, when and if a date ended sexually. Now here she was, lusting for his touch. LUST! Yes, that’s what I want? God yes!
He released his hands from her hair, to hold her face, while he softly kissed her. After a few moments he pulled her body close and they turned to go back to the main street. Still holding his arm around her waist, he flagged an approaching cab. Rachel stepped into the cab and he settled next to her.
"Where do you live Rachel? I’ll have the cab drop you there first."
WHAT! I’m not going back to your castle and you’re not coming into mine? Rachel was astounded. How could I have misread that one?
"218 De Grassi" she said.
"Do you have a business card Rachel? I’d like to call you tomorrow. Maybe we can get together for dinner again, if you’re free?" He asked holding her hand, stroking it with his thumb.
Ladylike squirmed out from under Tinderbox and shook herself slightly – never know what germs THAT one has. Ladylike was at the wheel now.
She fished in her purse and located a business card. "Sure. That sounds good. Here you go. Where’s mine? I mean yours I…" Great. Now she's flustered.
Michael reached into the inside pocket of his jacket for a business card. "This is what you’d like, right?" He said with a grin.
Yes, and I can think of a few other things. Tinderbox sighed wistfully.
"Thanks." Rachel replied.
The cab pulled up in front of Rachel’s building and she got out after Michael. He escorted her to her door and kissed her softly. "I had a great time Rachel. I’ll talk to you tomorrow."
She smiled as she opened her door, turning slightly to watch him get back into the taxi.
Well…that was a night! Thank you gods of dating. A little weak in the knees, she climbed the stairs to her apartment.
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