“Yes. You were worried about eating out all the time, so I thought I’d cook.” He pulled her closer, loving how she felt in his arms, like she fitted into place, his missing jigsaw puzzle piece. “It’s not much; salad, jacket potatoes, cold meats. I’m not really much of a cook, more because of time. But I thought we could sit outside while it’s still warm.”
“When did you do this?”
“Before I came and got you from the pub.” He grinned mischievously.
“I thought you had a meeting.”
“I did – till five-thirty, then I came straight here.” He tugged at her hand, and led her into his games room.
Pool table, dartboard, pinball machine, a large flat-screen TV hanging in the corner to watch the sports, and a huge black leather sofa along the back wall. On another wall hung a blackboard, scored with chalk down the middle, James and Adam’s names written at the top with a tally. Sophie spotted it and laughed.
“He’s beating you!”
“Yeah, if only we kept a tally of our golf games.”
She chuckled again. “He’s not great at golf, so he tells me. When does he come over?”
“Tuesdays usually. He brings the curry; I supply the beer and the entertainment.”
Adam led her through the French doors and Sophie again gasped. They’d entered the conservatory, which contained his swimming pool. You couldn’t train for the Olympics in it, but it was enough for him to get his morning swim, or unwind after a long day hunched over his desk.
She turned, brushing her hands over his chest. “Explains something,” she said, toying with a button. “I did wonder how you’d find the time to get to a gym.”
“The gym is upstairs,” he said, and her face lit up with surprise. “Well, what do I need five bedrooms for?”
He led her past the sun loungers in the conservatory and took her out onto the decking. He’d already laid the table – white linen, scented candles, a small posy of pink carnations, zinnias and roses, cut from his garden – and made her sit, even though she protested she wanted to help. He watched her take it in, all the things he took for granted, as he saw it every day. The garden always looked impressive at this time of year, flowers full in bloom, trees fat with leaves. A small pond with a fountain near the decking provided the relaxing sound of water trickling over rocks. Music for the garden, his mother would always say.
“Your garden is beautiful.”
“I do have some help. My father’s gardener comes over here a couple of days a week.”
“Does your father live far away?”
“No, he’s in Wentworth.”
“And you didn’t fancy living there, close to the golf course?” she teased.
“Wasn’t sure I wanted my father as my neighbour. Bit close for comfort. I work with the man, too, remember.”
Adam brought everything from the kitchen, insisting Sophie remain, admiring the garden with a glass of pink champagne. She wanted to help but he enjoyed waiting on her. He’d never done this before, entertained a woman at his house. Yes, he’d brought them home for a drink, and bed, but never dinner. Never simply relaxing and soaking up the peace of his own home.
They talked. It came so naturally and he found himself daydreaming, wanting this to be every day, imagining the rest of his life, sitting in this garden with Sophie, growing old together. The lawn full of children running around. How many children would she want? It was something he realised he wanted so much more now. It had never occurred to him before meeting her, loving her. He’d been so adamant it wasn’t a life for him; he was a player, wining and dining women, never wanting commitment.
As the night air chilled, they retired to his living room, drinking champagne with strawberries floating in the glasses, feeding each other the fruit. The talking had ceased, replaced with kissing and cuddling. He was lost in the sensation of her tongue caressing his, her hands running through his hair. He’d pulled out the clip holding her hair in place, and combed his hand through her long, chestnut hair, like silk ribbons between his fingers. He wanted them both to be naked on this sofa, but he held back, taking it slowly. The most he did was undo a couple of buttons on her cream blouse, so he could stroke her neck and collarbone, or cup her breast.
“Should I call you a taxi, or would you like one of my bedrooms?” he said, between the kisses as he caught the time on the clock; almost midnight. They’d fallen into lying on the sofa cuddling.
“I’d like to stay in your bedroom, please,” she whispered.
“My bedroom?”
“Yes.”
All he needed to hear. He tugged her into his hold, stroking her face, around her hairline as he kissed her. He’d been taking it easily earlier, cuddling and kissing; now, as he had permission, he wanted to move it up a notch.
Without his mouth being far from hers, he unbuttoned her blouse, teasing it off, discarding it. Next to go were her trousers, easing her out of them, kissing, nibbling her soft skin. He cupped her breasts so they spilled out over the cream lace, rubbing and pinching her nipples so they formed hard buds, then licked and sucked them, like they were cherries on top of ice cream. She moaned, throwing her head back. The sound vibrated through his chest, down into his belly and along his hardening groin.
He needed to get her off this sofa. This was not where he envisioned their first time. Standing up, he gently pulled her with him, leading her up the stairs. They got as far as the landing, Sophie fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, but he soon made her forgot what she was doing. One flick, he undid the clasp and her bra loosened, he removed it with great delicacy. Both hands trailed up to her shoulders and pushed the straps down her arms, tossing it aside. They heard the light spatter of fabric landing on the wooden flooring, and Sophie giggled, kissing him, pressing her soft, freed breasts against him.
They reached his bedroom door, which stood ajar, and Adam, so hard he ached for her, elbowed the door open and guided her towards his bed.
***
Sophie, stripped down to a pathetic piece of lace material, landed on the soft bed, her mind and body like jelly. His expert hands had caused ripples of pleasure across her skin as he’d removed her clothes.
The minute she’d said the word, given him the green light, he’d pushed every single button. Inside her a fire now roared. All she could concentrate on was wanting him, inside her, making love, like her body had been neglected for all these years. Between her legs, she throbbed. She wanted her knickers off!
She pulled at his shirt he’d looked so damn sexy in all night, desperate to feel his hard muscular chest against her flesh. Heat against heat. On the landing, she’d failed miserably to remove it, distracted by his brain-melting sensations. He helped her now.
He pulled back the sheets, and she knelt on the bed, still kissing, touching, helping him with his trousers, pushing at his boxers. All she wanted to do was show him how much she loved him.
Her hand found his cock, stroked, gripped, and he shuddered and groaned.
Gently, blindly, he removed her hand. “Sophie, honey, for me to last, you need to not do that.”
He kissed her; she mumbled some agreement, letting him take control.
He’s the expert.
Starting at Sophie’s mouth, Adam moved his kisses down her body, from one breast to the other. Slowly, carefully, covering every inch of her body. She gave soft moans at his touch. She didn’t know what else to do but lie there, relishing a mixture of bliss and torture, her body longing for his. He moved down further and further, running his tongue along her hip, up the inside of her thigh, pulling off her knickers.
This was where they got to last time, but this time he wasn’t stopping.
With fingers and tongue running along the inside of her legs, he parted them, and kissed, licked and sucked. She gasped again, her hips naturally moving in time with him. Liquid warmth pooled deep inside her. Then, before his tongue sent her over the edge, as slowly as he’d descended, he returned, kissing her lips, hovering over her.
>
“Are you sure want to do this?”
“Yes - oh wait!” she said frantically, placing her hands on his chest. “I’m not protected. I’m not on the pill.”
“It’s okay,” he soothed. “It’s already taken care of. But are you sure? I can wait.” His patient tone made her heart swell with love she held for him.
“Yes, I love you, of course I’m sure,” she whispered, her hands cupping his face, pulling him towards her. She didn’t care what happened after, she wanted, needed him now.
“I love you, too.”
She felt his hardness sink into her. She tilted her hips to deepen his thrusts; she couldn’t get enough of him.
They started out frantic, new, excited, lustful for each other, then, gaining some control and moving as one, slowed, finding a perfect rhythm. Heat flew to her belly. Delight and pleasure rippled through her body with every hard thrust inside her, lost in the oblivion of the two of them joining as one. Never wanting to lose him, or leave him.
When she could control herself no more, digging her fingers into his shoulders, pulling his body tighter to hers, she pushed him in deeper and her body shuddered. Over and over. An uncontrollable ecstatic cry escaped her. She scratched along his back, and he groaned, and she felt his final thrust and the pulse inside her as he too could no longer hold on.
They relaxed in a damp, luscious heap, hot from exertion, breathing irregularly. Adam, still lying on top of her, his lips pressed against her neck, groaned sexily. She held onto him, tightening her grip with legs and arms, not wanting him to move, not wanting to let him go. His naked, gorgeous, delicious body could sleep there for all she cared. She didn’t care if the house caught fire - she wasn’t moving from his bed. Sex like that - she was surprised the bed wasn’t burning. As her breathing calmed, she felt him softening inside her, withdrawing.
He quickly dealt with and discarded the condom with ease and skill. When did he put it on? She really was an amateur. She must have been looking at him quizzically, or worried, because he smiled, and tapped his head and said, “Little trick I know, while you were distracted. I can put those things on blindfolded.” The sexiest grin spread across his face as he knelt over her.
Distracted? Then a thought occurred, him licking, nibbling and kissing her all the way down, and she blushed. Excitement as quick as electricity spread to every nerve ending. Oh, she couldn’t wait to feel it all over again.
“Were you all right? You were very quiet.” He lent forward, brushing her hair back. She hoped she didn’t look like Medusa or worse.
“Was I not supposed to be?” Sophie looked at him nervously. He was so experienced, and she felt a novice. Did he want her screaming his name from the rooftops at the height of pleasure? She thought that was a movie thing.
“No, no, just me worrying, I suppose.” His lips found hers, and he tumbled on to her, tightening his hold. “I don’t think you realise how much I love you. I want you all over again.”
“So soon?” She raised a hopeful eyebrow.
He sexily growled, nuzzling into her neck. “Oh, hell, yes.”
“You’re ready again?”
He shrugged, and grinned cheekily. “Well, give me five minutes.”
***
He’d had the best night’s sleep ever before waking up with Sophie in his arms, in his room. Horny and allowed to be. He didn’t need to get out and hide his arousal any more. This morning he hoped to be able to use it. Sex first thing in the morning with Sophie … he was having a hard time thinking of anything better to do.
He exhaled, stroking Sophie’s hair, then down her back, memorising her curves as he spooned into her. He rarely got to do this – it usually felt awkward or false the morning after. But last night, making love, had felt so different. At first, he’d been worried, thinking she was unhappy, or he wasn’t satisfying her. Then he realised; they’d been consumed within one another, only interested in pleasing each other. She wasn’t the type to dramatise the sex. Bloody hell, his mother was right, James was right. This was how it was supposed to be. The good stuff.
Never let her go, he thought, squeezing her more tightly.
Sophie stirred, and turned, opening her eyes, squinting as she adjusted to the sunlight.
“Good morning,” he said, plying her with kisses, nestling into her neck, inhaling her scent. Her sweet, floral perfume still lingered, plus a little of him, their sex. She reached to touch his face, and he placed a kiss in her palm. She sighed with pleasure.
She stretched and sat up, looking around the room. “Oh my … is this your bedroom?”
“No, it’s the guy next door's.”
His bedroom was rather impressive, his own personal space. Well, his whole house was private, but no one really saw this room. The master bedroom. All straight lines, contemporary style fitted wardrobes, dark wood against pale walls. A dressing table stood in one corner, which he never used, though it would be Sophie’s now, and a white, leather sofa sat in front of one of the sash windows, where he usually threw his clothes.
“Last night,” she nudged him, “I wasn’t really taking much notice, but it’s huge.”
He looked under the bedcovers suggestively at his hardening erection. “Why, thank you.”
She giggled, slapping him lightly and he grabbed her arm, pinning her beneath him.
“I need to do one thing before I fetch you breakfast.” He kissed the hollow of her neck.
“And I wonder what could that be?” She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him towards her. He stretched, reached for another condom and skilfully rolled it on. Then, unable to help himself, he teased her with his finger, rubbing, then inserting it. She gasped, tugging him closer with her legs, and he ran a hand up, holding her delicious thigh up, as he entered her, penetrating deep, her lips covered his, kissing, moaning. She opened up to him as a flower does to sunshine.
“I … love … you … ” Her voice breathless, urgent, made him want to please her more.
***
Lying there, sated, they both sighed, getting their breath back. Adam, leaning on his elbow, trailed a finger around her nipple, then her breast. He gently kissed her, then said, “I’ll be two minutes - do not move.”
He strolled away from the bed and Sophie watched, unable to take her eyes off his naked body. As he walked across to a set of drawers and pulled out some fresh underwear, she admired his strong thighs, and tight buttocks – and blushed as she remembered how she’d held on and dug her nails in – then his narrow waist, spreading to a muscular back and shoulders. Athletic. How much swimming did he do? All he needed was wings sprouting from those shoulder blades and he was her angel sent from heaven. She’d never be able to picture him the same with his clothes on, now she knew what lay underneath – and she would always desire him undressed.
Once he’d left the room, Sophie pulled the covers up around her and sighed. She wanted to squeal. She was in Adam’s bed; they'd made love; he’d said he loved her. All her wishes had come true.
Her plan had been to take this slower, but last night, here in his house, she couldn’t wait any longer. And besides, it’s not like she hadn’t got to know him already. Simon had encouraged her into bed on the second night, stealing away her innocence. She hadn’t really been ready, Simon being her first, but he’d insisted, said she was just nervous, and then their relationship had steamrollered from there. Thinking about it now – and she wasn’t sure why she was – she realised she might not have been in love with Simon like she’d thought. Because what she felt for Adam was a hundred times stronger. Magnetic energy coursed between them with the slightest touch.
Adam – naked, bar his boxers – arrived like a god, carrying a tray.
“I’ll get us some coffee in a minute,” he said, placing the tray beside her.
Sitting up, she saw croissants, jam, toast, and orange juice. “I feel like a princess. Thoroughly spoilt.”
He grinned. She wouldn’t grow tired of his smile. “So, after breakfast, what wou
ld her Royal Highness like to do today?”
She leaned in towards him, and kissed him, making sure her tongue licked his top lip and he groaned. “Stay in bed with you, please.”
***
Having finished breakfast, Adam had pulled Sophie into his bathroom adjoining the bedroom, and they’d showered together, still unable to stop touching one another. Massaging, lathering soap onto each other, exploring each other’s bodies again. Adam washed her hair, raiding another bathroom for some conditioner – otherwise, her hair would have been like straw and impossible to comb through. She’d tried to wash his, standing on tiptoes, but his strokes up her body had been far too distracting.
She’d spied a large roll top bath, and fantasised about it with her, Adam and a lot of bubbles. Another time.
Both of them prune-like, Adam turned the shower off and handed Sophie a bath sheet and another smaller towel for her hair. As he wrapped a towel around himself, she tugged at it, smiling cheekily. He went to grab hers, but Sophie ran out of the bathroom, giggling. Adam, right behind her, still after her towel, bumped into her as she stopped abruptly, squealing.
A woman stood in Adam’s bedroom, looking as shocked as Sophie felt. Sophie rapidly tried to cover herself up with the towel Adam had dislodged. Her heart thumped inside her chest. The woman looked in her mid-fifties, casually dressed, with short silvery-grey hair.
Adam peered around Sophie. “Oh, hi, Audrey. Sorry.” He covered Sophie up and secured a towel around himself. “This isn’t your usual day?”
“Sorry, I had a day off in the week, remember? Said I’d call in today.”
“My fault. Yes, sorry, clean forgot.”
“Anyway, I saw you had company … ” She meant Sophie’s clothes all scattered downstairs. Sophie blushed and looked at the carpet. “And assumed you’d be in another bedroom. I was dropping off some clean towels.” She placed them on the dressing table’s chair. “I won’t stay long at the house as I can see you’re busy.” Audrey turned and scurried out of the room.
“Audrey’s my housekeeper. I’ll properly introduce you when you’ve got more clothes on.”
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