Past the auto shop, past the hardware store, to a stock-loading area cordoned off from the rest of the centre. Darkness and walls offered total privacy. I wondered vaguely if this was 'his spot' and if so, how many other men he'd brought here before me. 

My awkwardness must have shown because he spoke then. 

"Its alright babe, I won't bite." I fixed my eyes back on him then and his expression was pure invitation. Leaning back against the wall, one hand relaxed on his hip, his wide innocent eyes beckoning. I tried to slow my heart, but it was no use.  

//Wait. You're here to talk to him. To help him help you, not use him like all the others.// I fought with myself internally, forcing my hormones into submission, trying to extinguish the frighteningly strong desire this man had inspired in me. I would not use him. It wasn't right. With that in mind I began to approach him, speaking softly but with purpose. 

"Listen, I just wanted to—" 

I'd gotten barely a metre before his lips were on mine. I froze in shock. He continued to kiss my unmoving lips, one hand sliding to the nape of my neck, the other brushing down my chest to settle over the fly of my jeans. I opened my mouth to object, but that just gave his tongue opportunity to slide into my mouth. His tongue stroking mine, his soft firm lips moving on mine, his hand at my head holding me to the kiss. I couldn't fight the onslaught. Before my mind could register it I was kissing back, melting in his arms, sliding mine around him to hold this dark angel in my embrace. 

He turned our bodies, pressing me up against the wall and I was thankful for the solid feeling of it at my back. He broke the kiss, his hand sliding from my neck down over my chest, his other hand massaging the growing bulge in my jeans. I moaned, shocked at the need in my voice. 

"How do you want it? Rough? Or gentle?" he whispered, feathering kisses over my neck and collarbone. I was panting like I'd run a marathon, his hands were sending waves of electric pleasure through me. This was happening too fast. Too late, I realised he was looking at me, waiting for an answer, his eyes startling even in the darkness. 

He considered my agonised silence. "This is your first time, isn't it?" A realisation, not a question. First time with a man, first time with a hustler, you name it. My nod was no more than a shy dip of my head.  

Something changed in his expression, his eyes seemed to get hungrier, a lion eyeing fresh meat. A tiny smile tinged with wickedness and he murmured, 

"Well then, I probably know what you want better than you do. Want to leave it up to me?" I barely nodded. //You know me better than I do, don't you?// 

His lips took mine again and he started to pull my shirt out of my jeans, all the while his hand still working over my throbbing crotch, robbing me of the ability to speak or think. The cool air made contact with my burning skin and I tore my mouth from his, trying desperately to remember what I came to do, what was so important for me to say to him. 

A long moment where all I could do was try to breathe, to think. He regarded me quizzically, hands stilling on my body for a moment. Questions in his eyes, and all I could think to say was, 

"What's your name?" 

He let out a breath he must have been holding, a small wicked smile curving his lips. His hands sprang back to life and began working at the buttons on my jeans. He leaned his face to mine so I could feel his breath feathering over my face. 

"Darren," he whispered, like he was parting with a closely guarded secret. A brief but hungry kiss. "And you are?" He raised an eyebrow, a subtle challenge in those incredible eyes.  

I took a moment to remember my name. 

"Daniel." I said finally. 

"Daniel." He repeated, cocking his head to one side, saying it as if testing it out. Then I felt the last button on my jeans give and their weight slipped lower on my body. 

"Well, Daniel..." He slipped one hand inside my now-loosened jeans. I drew a breath sharply as I felt his hand close over my hard aching flesh. "It's a pleasure." He whispered... and stroked. 

I groaned loudly at the more-than-intimate touch. 

Indeed. The pleasure was mine.