by Amy Daws
I scowl, feeling uneasy at the idea that I’m annoying him already.
“Get over it, Superman,” I murmur and he bites down on my finger again, then soothes the area with a warm kiss.
I recognize the neighborhood we’re venturing into as it’s near my office. I love east London. If I wasn’t living with Frank, this is the area of town I’d house hunt in.
He pulls up in front of a decently sized warehouse. It’s white-painted brick and looks really similar to my own office. He hits a button on his visor and a hidden garage door opens. He parks in the single-stall garage and ushers me through the attached entry. He turns sharply and begins climbing a steep set of stairs.
“What’s in there?” I ask, gesturing to the doorway we just breezed by.
“It’s just my workshop,” he shrugs his shoulders.
“What do you mean?”
“Where I make my stuff.” He looks at me like I should know this.
“I want to see!” I peal, feeling excited to see his furniture. I thought he was just a designer, but now that I realize he actually makes it with his own hands, it’s sexy as fuck!
“Let’s get a drink first.”
I gaze longingly at the door but follow him upstairs. Walking into his flat, it’s almost like seeing Theo dressed as an apartment, if that makes any sense. I’ve never seen a flat that so closely resembles the style of its resident.
It’s a wide open studio-style where the kitchen, dining room, and living room all run together. Huge, by London standards. The living room is sunken and framed by two, grid-style industrial windows.
As soon as my eyes land on the dining room set, I can see why the rest of the walls are bare and stark white. This table is a show piece in and of itself. Nestled perfectly alongside a naturally exposed brick wall, I instantly walk toward it to run my hands on it.
“Yours?” I ask, feeling the bumpy, rustic grey wood. It’s stunning.
He nods, watching me nervously. The entry table is a similar grey type of wood with lots of really cool, natural ridges. Rustic and primitive. Sexy and manly as fuck.
“These are beautiful, Theo.” He shrugs his shoulders. Everything in the flat is so beautiful. All very rustic modern, letting the wood pieces have all the attention.
“I redid the floors last year.” They too are a sort of a flawed knotty wood with wide planks. “Wine?” he asks, strolling over to his kitchen and rummaging in the glossy black kitchen cabinets.
“I love your place,” I say, accepting a glass of red and appreciating the view from his living room. The expansive windows overlook a concealed little sun terrace with fake grass and potted plants everywhere.
“My room is up there,” he gestures behind him and I catch a glimpse of a huge bed in the open loft style area upstairs.
Holy shit. Am I ready for this?
Kissing Theo after saying that small three-letter word changed things between us. As soon as I said yes, he seemed more relaxed, less brooding and pensive. It’s nice. I feel lighter too. But I’m starting to doubt whether this is what he will really want in the end. I feel like we’ve lost that sexual tension and pull that we had before. What if he’s starting to regret things now?
“What are you thinking about?”
“You don’t want to know,” I say flatly, touching the tip of my fake lashes. These will be a bitch to get off.
“Try me,” he drawls boldly as I cross my arms and gaze out the windows, the soft blue security light illuminating our faces in his dark apartment.
I sigh heavily. “I’m thinking you’ll regret asking me to say yes and chasing after me. Now that you’ve got me, the excitement is gone and you’re realizing I’m dull and painfully ordinary.” I form a thin line with my lips, looking at him glumly.
Blinking slowly three times, he seems completely dazed. Collecting himself, he grabs my wineglass from my hand and sets it down on the coffee table. He stands back up, drops his chin, and stalks toward me slowly.
“What are you doing?” I ask, suddenly really aware of my hands and having no clue what to do with them. I cross and uncross them feeling awkward and skittish.
“I’m going to fuck those thoughts out of your head, Leslie.”
My heart grows inside my chest and I’m instantly flushed with arousal. Holy tits. I’ve never had one little sentence elicit such a carnal reaction from me before! He licks his lips slowly and pulls his lower lip in his mouth, shaking his head disapprovingly.
“And now I’m feeling frustrated because I want to undress you slowly right now but I know you’re not wearing a scrap of clothing under that dress.”
Oh.
“No underwear,” he murmurs to himself bending over and grabbing the hem of my dress and dragging it up over my head.
“No bra.” His eyes hood as he leans in and drops feather-light kisses across my collarbone. “Fucking stunning.” His fingertips trail lightly across my lower back, dangling close to my rear.
“I meant what I said, Leslie. You shine. Your skin is luminous. Like it’s just begging to be licked, sucked, and…” He captures my nipple in his mouth and I cry out in shock. “Treasured.” Holy shit, is this guy for real? He kisses delicately between the mounds of my breasts and then pays just as careful attention to the other nipple.
“Theo,” I say in a groan, desperate to see him as he’s seeing me right now. I reach up with shaky hands and begin slowly unbuttoning his shirt. I start chewing my lip worriedly, trying to do everything right.
“What is it, Leslie?” he asks, tilting my chin up and dropping a soft kiss on my lips.
“Nothing, nothing. It’s just…” I pause, feeling embarrassed. “It’s been a while.” I say, shrugging nonchalantly, but feeling anything but.
“How long?” he asks.
“Since America.” He looks at me confused. “Five years.”
He sucks in a harsh puff of air. “You haven’t been with anyone in five years?”
I shake my head, feeling foolish. Jesus, he’s so gorgeous and I’m an inexperienced loser. I’m not a virgin, but my track record with intimate relationships is very small. This moment feels like losing my virginity to someone super experienced all over again. I turn away and cross my arms over myself. Jesus. I’m butt naked and he’s fully clothed still. This is mortifying.
“Hey,” he says, turning my face to his. “It’s been three for me.” He shrugs his shoulders apologetically, the outside light casting mysterious shadows on his beautifully scruffy face.
“For real?” I ask eagerly and then wonder how on earth a man like him could go three years without sex and then choose me of all people to be with. “How is that possible?” I ask, trying to gauge if he is telling me the truth.
“Life…it doesn’t matter,” he kisses my shoulder tenderly and turns me to face him again.
He looks deeply in my eyes like he’s just revealed more to me than I even know. I feel my heart surge with anxiety at the intensity of it. He looks briefly at my mouth and then shrugs out of his shirt.
My eyes feast on his large muscled chest. It’s smooth and rigid in all the right places. I bring my hands up and lightly scrape my nails down him. His eyes close tightly and he shudders. When his eyes reopen, he looks nervous and unsure. It’s a torturous expression—I can’t take it. I pull his face to mine and kiss him ferociously. My leg crawls up his hip, half opening myself to him. The cold of his belt buckle smarts and I retract back, giggling.
“Christ, you’re beautiful,” he groans. “That laugh.” He makes quick work of his jeans and boxers and I’m now staring at his gloriously naked body in a really attractive agog expression.
We both collide into each other, a mess of limbs, lips, hips, and groins. He walks me backwards onto the arm of his grey upholstered couch, laying me back so my hips are propped up on the armrest.
“Jesus, I can’t believe this is actually happening,” he says, reverently, watching me as I stroke myself in anticipation. I’d rather have him be stroking me, but I�
��m nothing if not resourceful and this ache I have inside of me is so intense, I’ve lost all my inhibitions.
He trails his fingers up my calf and inside my thigh. I feel myself clenching tightly when his thumb rubs firmly over my tight nub.
“Oh my God!” I cry. It’s been way too long. I forgot how much hotter sex is when it’s not with my fucking vibrator!
Sorry hotdog!
He plunges his fingers deep inside me, moving at a feverish rhythm, building me up toward the biggest climax I’ve had in years. I grab his wrist firmly wanting to stop him but wanting him to keep going at the same time.
“You’re going to forget all about running from me, Leslie,” he says, as I groan out in blissed-out agony. “You’re going to feel intensely…my affections for you. And you’re not going to run again.”
“Yes!” I cry, unable to fully consider his demand but focused so entirely on the building pressure inside of me. His warm breath tickles my inner thighs and I swear it’s two quick swipes with his tongue and I’m coming all over his hand and face. “Jesus, Theo!”
He leaves my center for another few seconds and then drags himself up my body, covering me head to toe with his firm rigid build. He kisses me coarsely as I blink dazedly coming down from the intense rush of spasms shooting out all around me.
“Holy shit, that was hot,” he says in a shocked tone. My eyes flutter open and he’s looking down at me in pure adoration. I smile sheepishly.
“I said it’s been a while,” I groan obnoxiously and giggle.
“You and me both, Leslie.” I take note that he likes to call me by my name. And I like that he does. My name has never sounded more beautiful from anyone’s mouth.
“Are you on anything? Birth control or whatever? I have condoms if you’re not.”
“I thought you said it’s been three years?” I frown at him, blinking away my orgasm as much as possible. Why does he have condoms if it’s been three years?
“I had high hopes for tonight,” he grins wickedly at me.
I whack him on the back and he roars with proud laughter. I’ve never heard him laugh like that before. I quite like it!
“I’m on the pill—we’re safe, if you’re sure you’re clean?” Gosh, I haven’t had to think about this stuff for a while. It feels awkward.
“I’m sure.” He kisses me softly, shutting down my awkwardness. He stands up, admiring me draped naked over his couch.
“I’m sure about us, Leslie. This feels so right.”
I tilt my head, admiring the hard panes on his chest and the serious expression on his face. Theo wants more from me, but am I prepared to give him that? I’ve convinced myself since coming to London that I won’t be anything like what I left behind in Missouri. I won’t get into a relationship that shadows me in a man’s wake. And here I am, opening myself up, literally, to a man that demands to be heard, no matter what.
“Come here,” he holds his hand out to me and I stare at it nervously. “Please?”
That one little word. That one little word makes him pushing to get into my heart a request and not a demand. That one little word is his saving grace.
***
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
He threads his fingers in my hands and pulls me through his dark apartment toward the expansive iron spindle staircase. A long railing extends the length of his bedroom, overlooking his living area downstairs. Another industrial window casts that blue night lighting over the top of his white down comforter. His bed suddenly looks big and scary.
“You okay?” he asks, pulling me into his naked body. We both stand there gloriously naked in his dark room.
“I feel nervous,” I say, exhaling heavily into his chest.
“Me too. We don’t have to, if…”
“I want to!” I screech and cringe at the desperate tone of my voice. His chest rumbles with laughter. I love hearing him laugh.
“Me too,” he kisses me, sweetly at first and then deepens his kiss, sousing his tongue deep into my mouth. So deep, I lose all inhibitions and my nerves evaporate. I’m transformed into a wanton hussie.
He walks us back to the bed and sits down at the base, pulling me on top of him so I’m straddling his lap. He nuzzles his face into my chest and appears to be relishing the feel of my skin on his face.
“So beautiful, so stupidly beautiful and you don’t even know it.”
I tilt his face up and cover his mouth with my lips. Our kiss turns passionate and frenzied as his erection presses tightly between my thighs. He reaches between us and adjusts himself so he’s positioned at my apex. Without breaking our kiss, I slide myself onto him, cringing at the intense tightness.
“Does it hurt?” he looks nervously at my screwed up expression.
“Give me a minute,” I groan, feeling the tightness shift slightly. Damn, it’s been so long. I shift slightly and the painful bite begins to morph into pleasure. I grind into him, testing out the new sensation. When it starts feeling good, I nod my head in approval.
Theo kisses me sweetly, holding my hip with one hand and bracing his other behind him. He leans back and I gaze longingly at his body, my hands rubbing all over him in appreciation. He begins thrusting himself up and down, his chiseled abs tightening and lengthening with each upshot. I meet his movements and we grind together in perfect rhythm.
Feeling overwhelmed by the build, I drape myself over his shoulder, dragging my open mouth over his exposed skin. Why did I avoid this for so long?
“Come for me Leslie. You’re close, I can feel it.” His voice is harsh and guttural.
“Yeah, okay…” I say stupidly answering his sexy words and dropping a kiss to his shoulder.
“Theo,” I gasp, when he bucks into me hard and fast. I come. Oh lord, do I ever come. He wraps both of his arms tightly around my waist, resting his head on my chest and suddenly stills, pulsing his own climax inside of me.
We hold each other silently for a few minutes. The only sounds in the apartment are our ragged breaths slowing.
“I can’t believe I met you,” he says, pulling back and looking deeply into my eyes.
“What do you mean?” I ask, closing my eyes as he pushes my bangs off to the side.
Oh, it feels so good when he does that.
“You’re incredible, Leslie. You have to know that. You have to know how special you are.”
I swallow around a hard knot forming in my throat.
“I’ve never felt that before,” I whisper softly, my voice catching at my very raw and vulnerable admission. No hiding anymore.
“You’ll never feel anything less with me. I promise you.” He shakes his head disbelievingly. “You shine straight through me. You’ve brought me back.” He kisses me softly on the lips and murmurs against my mouth, “You’re impossibly special.”
In all my life, I’ve never felt what Theo’s managed to make me feel in a matter of seconds. Knowing my words will only pale in comparison to his, I return his kiss passionately, whispering a simple ‘thank you’.
***
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
A constant vibrating sound wakes me from my deep sleep. I crack open my eyes and find myself in Theo’s big bed. His arm is draped lazily over my naked waist. His breathing is heavy and long, so I know he’s still out cold.
I glance at the clock and see it’s almost two in the morning. Holy shit! I don’t even remember falling asleep! I push back the white down comforter and pull myself slowly to the edge of the bed, attempting awkwardly to slip out from under his hand without waking him. Man, I bet I look super sexy right now, butt naked and falling gracefully out of this sexy bed!
I right myself and walk my naked butt over to the cast iron railing, peering down to see my glowing phone buzzing away on the dining table. I squint around Theo’s bedroom for my dress, but remember I ditched that downstairs last night. Thanks for that, Theo!
I wrap myself in a tan cashmere throw blanket that was draped over a leather armchair by the window, and make my way quie
tly down the steps. I grab my phone and scroll through several missed calls and texts from Finley and Frank, both wondering if I’m okay. I quickly type a reply saying I’m good, not to worry, and I’ll talk to them in the morning. I press my phone to my chest feeling an excited bubble deep in my belly. I’m more than okay. I could stay here for days in this happy, sexually sated fog, and not think about anything else.
Oh shit! It’s Monday!
I quickly open my work email and send a message telling Vilma I’ll be working from home tomorrow—or today, depending how you look at it. Roger’s out of the office this week anyway and I know Vilma will cover for me. There’s no way in hell I can make it to work bright and early tomorrow. I wonder if Theo has to work.
“Hey,” his voice makes me jump and I glance up and see him standing gloriously naked at the railing, looking down on me. How is he so damn comfortable up there on display like that?
“Hey,” I reply, feeling slightly foolish standing here gaping at my phone in nothing but a blanket.
“What are you doing?” he looks brooding and nervous.
“Finley and Frank,” I answer. He nods slightly, his posture relaxing. “Hey, do you have to work tomorrow? Do you need me to go?” I ask, wondering nervously if he’s waiting for me to leave or something.
“No! Why would you say that?” he asks, clearly agitated.
“I don’t know…”
“I thought I fucked some sense into you,” he interrupts, his tone clipped and annoyed.
“Maybe I need another lesson!” I giggle, attempting to turn his frown upside down. I’m rewarded with a sexy smirk.
“So, you don’t have to work tomorrow?” I ask one more time.
“Not really, you?”
“Not really…” I’m totally lying right now. I desperately need to work but I know I can catch up on whatever I let slide for one day. The life of designers. “I want to see your workshop.”
He nods and smiles, disappearing briefly and reemerging in a pair of low slung lounger pants and leather flip flops. I’m decidedly pleased he opted not to put a shirt on.