Mallory gazed into his emerald eyes, unable to move; almost unable to breathe. She felt a little like a rabbit in headlights; stunned by his honesty and floored by his almost palpable desire for her. All she could muster was a little nod of her head.
With that he leaned down, pausing to seek her consent. She closed her eyes in anticipation. His breath felt warm against her chilled skin and then, finally, after what felt, to Mallory, like forever, he took her mouth with his own. His firm lips moulded to hers and his tongue dipped inside just a little. He tasted delicious and his cologne filled her nose as she breathed him in. Her hands reached up and found his hair as she drew him nearer. His kiss was soft but oozed passion and longing and gave a glimpse of what could be. Her legs became weak. And she clenched way down there.
When the kiss ended she felt a little light headed; almost drunk from the oh-so-brief exchange. She had never been kissed like that before. She raised her fingers and touched her lips where his had been only moments before. They tingled. She tingled. She turned her gaze once again to the door and this time unlocked it with ease.
Sam followed her inside, holding her hand in his. She watched as he made an assessing glance around at his new surroundings. The fireplace wall was adorned in a sumptuous wallpaper of red and gold whilst the rest of the walls remained a rich, neutral cream. She loved art work; unusual art work at that and had displayed as many of her pieces as she could without cluttering up the small room. Sam stood in front of the mantle appraising one of her most prized paintings. The scene showed a couple walking along a moonlit beach. The painting was almost black and white but for a bright red umbrella that the couple carried together.
“Very romantic.” He said as he turned and smiled at her. A little sigh escaped her throat, “Nice little place you have here.” He said nodding in approval.
“Thanks. It’s small, but I love it. My parents bought it for me before they died.”
“Wow, that’s a thoughtful gift.”
Mallory shrugged, “They wanted me to have a safe place to live when I moved out of home. They didn’t have much money but they bought this place and rented it out until I was old enough to move in.” She looked around her lounge, “It’s big enough for the two of us. Well, more like one and a half.” She said as a little black dog ran into the room making a beeline for the visitor in her home, “This is Ruby.”
Sam crouched down to greet the fluffy canine.
“Hey there, cutie-pie, aren’t you just the sweetest wittle fing I have ever seen? Yes you are. Yes you are.” Sam cooed at the dog, which clearly approved of him.
“So…coffee?” She asked and Sam tore himself away from the black wiry bundle of fur skipping around his feet.
“That’d be great, thank you.” He answered brightly.
He followed her into the kitchen still glancing around. She had painted the uneven walls in duck egg blue to compliment the handmade pine storage units. There was just enough space for a dining table, against one wall. The rest of the available spaces on each wall were filled with old, metal advertising signs and little plaques displaying phrases such as ‘I kiss better than I cook’ and ‘Never trust a skinny chef!’ Mallory heard Sam chuckle as he read the words.
When they re-entered the lounge, Mallory set the tray of cups, cafetiére, cream jug and sugar bowl on the little coffee table which was made from an old piece of tree stump with a highly polished top. They sat beside each other on the couch.
“Wow cool table. And come to think of it cool tray.” Sam ran his hand along the nobbled sides and smooth top of the furniture.
Mallory switched on her stereo and flicked to Snow Patrol’s ‘Eyes Open’ album— her favourite— and hit play.
“Oh, great choice. I love this album. So what’s the story with the table? And the tray?” Sam asked.
“The coffee table is a creation made by Brad, my best friend Josie’s boyfriend. He studied carpentry. He’s also responsible for the kitchen.” She gestured in the direction of the other room. “And the tray is me. It’s just a plain old seed tray that I tarted up a bit.”
“Tarted up?” Sam mimicked her accent, grinning cheekily.
“Oy!” She playfully hit him with a throw cushion. “Yes I make stuff. Or I buy bits and pieces and make them look pretty,” she said proudly, pleased at his earlier compliment.
“Well, you are one talented lady, Miss Yorksherrrr.”
“Why thank you, Mr. Canada.” Mallory proceeded to pour the delicious smelling coffee and hand a mug of it to Sam.
“Can I ask you a very personal question?” Sam twisted to face her. He rested his elbow on the sofa and leaned his temple on his fist.
“Oooh, you can ask but can I decline to answer if I see fit? It always sounds ominous when people challenge you like that.”
“Have you always been self-conscious about how you look?”
Blimey, that was blunt and to the point. She sighed, paused and wondered how the heck to answer without making herself sound, well, utterly pathetic.
“I suppose I have since my folks died. They were such wonderful parents; so supportive and loving. When I lost them I think a little bit of me died too.” Uh-oh…too deep! She chastised herself as tears began to sting the backs of her eyes.
Sam placed his cup down on the tray, “Hey, I am so sorry; I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m such a tactless idiot.” He moved in closer to her.
“No, no, it’s fine. Don’t worry. I get a bit melancholy sometimes when I think about them, that’s all.” She lifted her glasses briefly and dabbed the tears that were threatening to emerge.
“Of course you do, that’s totally understandable.” He touched her cheek lightly, catching an escaped tear. ‘Chasing Cars’ began to play in the background; Mallory’s favourite song.
“I love this song.” He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes for few moments. When he opened them Mallory was staring into space with a serene smile playing on her lips. He watched her for a moment. “You really are beautiful, Mallory. I wish you believed me.”
She covered his hand with hers. “Me too,” She smiled. “But for now I’ll settle for the fact that you think so.”
Sam took Mallory’s cup and placed it beside his on the tray. He moved in closer still and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I hope that one day I get to show you how beautiful I think you are.”
Mallory gasped.
Great, he’d done it again with his ‘speak first, think later’ mentality. Idiot, he reprimanded himself. It was true though. He couldn’t deny it and why should he? And furthermore why shouldn’t she know this? He wanted her. He wanted her now. He had to stop himself from ripping at her clothing right there and then like some crazed animal.
No, he breathed, trying to calm his thoughts. He was willing to wait. He didn’t want her to think of this as a pity fuck. He truly desired this woman. She was everything he had ever wanted. She was beautiful…no…stunning, but beguilingly unaware of the fact. She was intelligent, hilariously funny, kind, and passionate. The idiot with the car must have been crazy.
Mallory saw a mix of emotions flash across Sam’s beautiful face. I would NEVER sleep with a man on our first date! She reminded herself thinking back to the gift she had received from Josie. Although, technically, this could be counted as our second…and if I was to be really picky, we have changed location so this could be counted as our third!
Before she could stop herself, she launched herself forward and flung her arms around his neck. She grabbed at his shirt with one hand and his hair with the other, pulling him toward her. She pushed her tongue between his full, luscious lips and deepened the kiss, desperate to taste him again. It was a hot, lust fuelled, needy kiss, and, in that split second, she hoped it conveyed that she wanted him desperately and NOW!
He didn’t make a move and so she started to pull away thinking she had made the most stupid mistake of her life. Oh God he thinks I am a tart! Even worse, a tart that he had no intention of sl
eeping with tonight! Aaargh! Her breathing was ragged.
She dared to glance into his face. And he was staring open mouthed, his breathing, too, was erratic.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know came over me.” She stood quickly, feeling a little head rush as she did so.
Suddenly Sam rose to his feet too. She expected he was going to make his excuses and leave. She wouldn’t blame him. She had just molested him on her sofa! Hussy! Her Aunt Sylvia’s over used word sprang immediately to mind.
Sam just stood there looking at her, panting; clearly searching for words which seemed to evade him. This was getting worse! She covered her eyes with her hands. He had said he desired her. He had talked about her curves; he had kissed her first, for goodness sake! He said he wanted her, in a roundabout way! What the hell was going on then?
“I’m not usually like this,” she began backtracking. “I don’t launch myself at men, well, of course not unless…unless my heel is stuck in a pavement…and…and I don’t have any choice in the matter, but even then I don’t stick my tongue down their throat and expect them to be happy about it. Obviously, not that I have ever actually found myself in that exact scenario until I met you. Oh God, I can’t believe I just did what I just did! What a moron. And I can’t believe I’m still talking,” she rambled. It was truly ridiculous.
Sam walked over to her and looked down, peering into her eyes. He placed a hand on either side of her face.
“Would you please, just shut the fuck up for one second.” Despite his harsh words, his expression was warm and he was smiling.
Oh, gosh! She wasn’t one for foul language, but his accent made it kind of sexy.
Without further words he slid his hands into her hair and lowered his mouth to hers. This time the kiss was searching, passionate, deep and lusciously wet. This time his tongue entered her mouth and she welcomed it with her own.
He caressed her back, tangled his fingers in her hair and brushed his fingers over her face. His movements were prurient, yet somehow loving. Every so often he would break free of her mouth to gaze into her eyes; almost as if he disbelieved that this was real.
She took his hand and bravely led him toward the open stair case. He followed her, willingly, up the stairs. She opened the door to her bedroom. And holding both of Sam’s hands, never taking her eyes from his, she backed slowly inside. He gazed down at her with hooded eyes, full of lust. Although shy and self-conscious, she was about to trust this gorgeous man with her body.
Mallory had never felt so desirable and it had filled her with a new confidence. Sam stroked her hair as she began to unbutton the light blue cotton shirt that he had looked so very handsome in. She removed the shirt and threw it aside. Next, she tugged at the hem of his white T-shirt, he lifted his arms and in one smooth movement, she swiped it off over his head. She gasped as she laid fresh eyes on the beautiful, muscular, naked torso in front of her. Okay, he wasn’t male model material, but gosh, to her he couldn’t be more perfect.
Sam’s heart pounded in his chest, so much so that he feared she could see it about to burst forth from his skin. He swept her hair away from her shoulders and removed her glasses.
“Oh, Mallory, you have the prettiest eyes.” He breathed out long and slow, mesmerised by their sparkle.
He unfastened the top three buttons of her fitted black shirt to reveal a hint of ambrosial cleavage. His breath caught in his throat. Gently, he continued down until her lace covered breasts were exposed to his hungry gaze. He discarded the shirt.
“So beautiful,” he whispered.
Mallory’s cheeks filled with color. He lent forward to plant a gentle kiss on her collar bone.
It was so soon, but he knew that this was more than just sex to him. He wanted to communicate this to her somehow. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him, in a warm sensual embrace. He ran his fingers up and down her spine. Her smooth, creamy skin heated under his touch. He rested his chin atop her head. She was just the right height. She reciprocated and smoothed her hands down his sculpted back. He pulled away gazing at her once again.
Sam tilted her chin up towards him. “Are you okay, Mallory? We don’t have to do this. I’m happy to wait. We have time.”
“I don’t want to wait, Sam. I don’t know why, but this feels right. I want this…I want you.”
On hearing these words his desire was fuelled. He slowly crouched down before her, turned her around and slid down the zip on the back of her black fitted skirt. He shimmied the skirt down her rounded hips onto the floor.
He kissed her lower back just above the top of her black lace panties. She shivered under his touch.
He turned her around and stood before her. He took a step back to appraise the gift he had just unwrapped. Suddenly, he sensed her discomfort at his gaze.
“Mallory, please don’t feel embarrassed,” he reassured. “I can honestly say that I have never desired any woman more than I desire you right now.”
She seemed frozen to the spot. He unfastened the fly on his jeans and slid them down his legs until he was standing in front of her wearing just his fitted boxers. Only then was his arousal, completely and unavoidably visible.
Mallory’s core clenched with desire. She wanted to see all of him; feel all of him. With a deep breath she slid the straps of her lace bra down over her shoulders and bent her arms back to unfasten the clasp. She held the bra in her hands feeling exposed and vulnerable as her full, rounded breasts heaved with a mixture of fear and desire. Sam took the bra from her hands and threw it onto the little arm chair in the corner of the room. A wry smile appeared on his face.
“Wanna do this last part together?” he whispered. Mallory nodded, “Okay, on three…one…two…three.” They both removed their remaining undergarments and stood there, naked before one another. Oh my God this is really happening the scrambled thought rushed through her mind.
He was a spectacular specimen of sexual male, she thought. His erection was strong and powerful. She felt her desire increase and her sex felt damp.
“C’mere.” Sam held out his hands to Mallory, who gladly stepped into his arms. He kissed her again; their tongues dancing around each other’s mouths; breaths shallow and wanting; hands wandering and exploring. Sam cupped her right breast, worshipping it with, first his palms and then his fingers. He toyed, gently, with the little pink protrusion which had hardened under his touch.
Mallory’s hands grasped at his hair as she moaned at the myriad sensations that, like shooting stars darted throughout her body. She ran her hands down his back, hesitating a little just above his buttocks. She summoned up a little more of that new found courage and ran her hands further down, squeezing and kneading, pulling him closer to her body. She delighted in the moan that escaped Sam’s throat as his erection pressed into the softness of her belly. She felt her own desire throbbing between her thighs.
Still wrapped around each other they tumbled onto the bed, kissing and caressing. Sam kissed her neck, sending little electric shocks right through her over-sensitised body. She stroked his smooth taut skin, bringing little sexy growls of pleasure from Sam’s throat yet again. He slowly slid his hand down to her stomach. She flinched and tried to push his hand away. He grabbed her hand in his and brought it up to his lips, kissing each finger gently. Then to her horror he slid down the bed and trailed his tongue down her abdomen as he did so.
When he reached her smooth rounded belly he looked up into her eyes briefly and then lowered his mouth to kiss it reverently.
“I love that you are so, so soft…and so…feminine,” he mumbled in between the kisses he feathered over her least favourite body part. She had just relaxed into that sensation when he began to move his kisses further down towards her sex. Oh my God, Oh my God!!! She inhaled sharply. He is not going to kiss me there is he? No no no no no…mmmmm…or maybe yes… She tensed again as he nuzzled the soft hair at the apex of her thighs. And then it happened.
Sam moved her leg ever so slight
ly and kissed her womanhood gently at first. Those delicious electric shocks ravaged her body again and she couldn’t help but writhe and arch at the pleasure. He continued, his kisses becoming firmer; more insistent; more urgent; exploring with his tongue; tasting and revelling in the very essence of her. She felt the pressure began to build, deep down between her thighs. Her breathing became more and more ragged. She felt like she was soaring at high altitude, climbing higher and higher; she was light headed and a little dazed.
As if feeling her pleasure rising, Sam’s pressure increased, he swirled his tongue faster and faster until finally her delicious orgasm took hold and she cried out, grasping at Sam’s hair, her hips moving to their own rhythm. It was glorious.
He climbed back up the bed toward her pausing to caress first her stomach and then her ample breasts. His erection pressed into her hip as he stroked her hair back from her face and kissed her deeply. Slowly he moved until he was almost on top of her, still worshipping her with his mouth.
“I-I’m so sorry, Mallory, but I don’t have any protection with me. I didn’t want to seem presumptuous. I don’t want to let you down, but I also don’t want us to do anything silly,” he breathed feeling very disappointed. She looked shy and pensive for a moment. “Is everything okay?” he questioned, fearing he had disappointed her.
“Josie, my friend called over with a little gift earlier. It’s in the top drawer of the bedside table.”
Bridge Over the Atlantic Page 3