by Poppet
This guy must be loaded. On tenterhooks, I flick my eyes at him. I wonder how Ted and Lindsay know him. And why he agreed to have dinner with a peasant like me.
He stubs out his cigarette and stares hard at me. Gosh, there's some serious chemistry going on here. He fiddles with his clasped hands, leaning on the table, just staring at me. I return the stare, unwavering. (I can stare you down any day, dude.)
His hand reaches over and covers mine. Wow, it's so warm. I'm freezing out here.
"I just want to kiss you. It's all I can think about."
My hair feels like it's standing up with static, I'm feeling so charged. His eyes are beautiful. They're so hypnotic. Mysterious. His mouth is full; he missed a spot when he shaved. It makes me smile as I look at the tufty patch on his chin. My heart is bounding like a kangaroo. The biological signs are all there. I'm hot for this guy and we've only just met. But I like to keep it cool. I've always tried to hide my real depth of feeling. I turn everything into a game so that I don't feel stupid if I'm alone in my perceptions.
"So do it then."
Gauntlet thrown down. Challenge issued.
He leans across and without touching me, places his warm lips on mine. Zing! Ooh. Moreish. More. Totally yummy. Man, he's the hottest kisser I've ever had the luck to kiss. A hand behind my head pulling me closer. Oh my god. YES! I could kiss him forever.
Soft pliable lips, sucking, pressing, warm, oooh, this feels, hmmmmmm!
"Excuse me!"
Kissing, oooh, flirty tongue, you taste nice, you smell nice. Don't stop.
"Sir?"
He pulls away with a wicked grin as the waiter tries to put a huge plate of butternut ravioli drenched in formaggio sauce down in front of him. I have the same, but mine's the half portion. As soon as the plates are down he leans over, slides his hand into my hair again and continues where he left off. My body just turns into an amoeba. I am aching for him. I just want to fuck him like a bunny, a playboy bunny! Love right now has nothing to do with it. It's pure, unadulterated, primal chemistry.
He pulls away and pops a square of ravioli into his mouth. I grin and do the same. We've hardly said two words to each other. He leans over and slips his tongue in the corner of my mouth, teasing, "You messed your sauce."
You're going to be messing your sauce, if I have anything to do with it.
He chuckles. Oh swoon. His voice is deep and velvet. He's like a vampire seducer. And hey, I don't care. I'm falling for it. In fact, he has that untouchable vibe about him. He seems aloof and unobtainable. His posture, regal. I wonder about him. He's enigmatic and it's a complete turn on.
How we managed to eat anything, I have no idea. Between each mouthful he kissed me as if a nuclear blast had just detonated in the harbour, and this was the last moment on earth alive.
Passion took over my body. I had such a deep ache of longing that I could hardly walk as he threaded his long fingers through mine and tugged me out of my chair, against his side, wrapping an arm around me, (wow he's so warm), and down the stairs to his car.
He slips in behind the wheel, leans over and kisses me further. His hand finds my nipple and he knows what is going on inside me. Unexpectedly he jerks away, and grips the steering wheel before running his hand through his sleek black hair, "Come home with me."
YEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSS!
"Okay."
The smile that he then shoots at me, with his fathomless eyes, is so happy and pleased, my heart feels like someone just thumped it hard. I am so used to games, having a man openly reveal his joy, his lust, to me–(because of me)– I find I have a weird sadness mingling with pleasure.
The engine purrs into life and I feel a thrill of excitement as I do what a good girl would never do. I have been set up. Ted and Lindsay set this up. But the chemistry, it's mind numbing. And I'm going home with a complete stranger I met about three hours ago. And I don't care!
The wild thumping of my excited heartbeat blurred the ethereal drive through avenues of ancient oaks, to his expansive home in Constantia. As I suspected, this guy probably doesn't live on a budget like mine. However, my body was so busy trying to split the atom, most of this only occurred to me later.
I feel like laughing, telling you this because it was so choreographed. There should have been a camera and a script. It was the classic Hollywood passion scene. Clothes were being ripped off in a frenzy the minute his front door closed. All the while trying to keep our lips and tongues glued together. I lost all of my clothing, as did he, before we'd even travelled down the passage to his bedroom. The rooms were huge.
He just picked me up and I wrapped my legs around him, as he carried me against his warm silky skin, in the dark to a room. He flipped the switch, and a gigantic bed in a vast room was revealed. Bohemian throws adorned the walls. I stared at him with renewed interest. Exotic and mysterious. Now I'm wondering if his colouring comes from an Arabian line. He lets me stand and I look around with curiosity.
He trips me and I fall backward onto ... oh my ... this bed is just sooo cosy. He falls over me and starts raining hot kisses on me and I'm ready to rape him if he doesn't do something soon. He chuckles again. It's deep and seductive. Throaty and flirtatious. This guy should bottle charisma. He'd make a killing. He fumbles in a drawer and rips open a wet suit.
Stop breathing. I am spasming with pleasure. The Marty-lucky-packet rocks. Fuckenhell! Yes! Yes! Yes! I stare up into inky eyes, and smile back at the dimples cornering his mouth. He seems very pleased with himself. His physique is smooth. Nothing like the Chippendales who bombarded my home. He's got long muscles to match his long arms. Whoa! He flips me up to sit on him as if I'm a plastic bobble-head and weigh nothing. I entwine my arms around his neck and smother him with tasting, tempting, kisses, as I shimmy up and down on 'Mr Ever Ready'.
Sharp indrawn breath as he picks me up, and walks with me attached to him to the kitchen. It's a huge room, cold and breezy, with haunting moonlight flooding in over the sink. He takes me straight to that sink, pushes my shoulders back and blasts me with ice cold water from the tap. Cold. Cold. Cold. I am covered in an all-over nipple stand. Actually, this is hectic fun. It works! His laughter fills the room and I fall back into his hypnotic spell, mesmerised as he rides me against the kitchen sink with water spewing everywhere. He's so vocal I'm finding it delicious.
We are both soaking, and giggling. Man, this ride is awesome. He walks with me like that, back to the bedroom, where he carefully disengages and flips me over. Onto my knees, as I hear a new wet suit package ripping open. AAAHHHH fuck.
I have that hot and cold sensation rippling up and down my spine as my body covers in tiny bumps. My nipples, frigidly hard with the unexplainable sensation of being nailed fervently from behind. My cheeks are glowing with the exercise. The minute I feel him explode, I withdraw and wrench his arm, making him fall, as I sit on his legs and hold him down. Sucking, tasting his skin from his shoulder down. Holding his hands with his fingers laced through mine. Straining, he pushes back, and I watch his muscles outlining, his stomach rack hardening. We are taking sex to Olympic level as we strain in a wrestlemania style against each other. Each of us winning bouts, giggling, breathless, screwing endlessly. Again and again and again.
Finally we fall together with arms resting peacefully. Relaxed, he moves my hair away from my face, and tenderly puts his lips on mine. Gentle nuzzling. Delicate pressure.
I move my eyes up to meet his, and smile. I think I've just found the perfect man for me. He's fabulous.
"Thirsty?"
I nod.
Caught off guard, he picks me up and carries me squirming, into the shower, as he blasts me with cold water, "There, there's plenty of water in there."
SQUEEEALL.
I'm shrieking, my body's relaxed stupor is annihilated rudely as he chuckles, and we slip and slide, chasing each other down the wide passage. Dripping like bedraggled rats caught in a thunderstorm. His arm swoops around my waist and he hoists me into the kitchen, "Coffee or a
lcohol?"
Hmmm coffee.
"Coffee." I smile as I lick my lips. I feel like a voyeur in the best zone ever as I watch him confidently stalk around the kitchen with long legs, stark naked, making me coffee.
Can I stay? Please can I keep you? Please?
Chapter 25
Chaos
I woke numerous times with him wrapping an arm around me, pulling me closer, kissing my neck, my temple, tucking me tightly up against him every time I moved away during slumber. And each time, I smiled. I felt so cherished. He is comforting, his heat reassuring. I'm just wallowing in his soothing ambience. He's the magic potion I've been missing. Gary could just never compare with my vampire seducer. This man is perfect. And when I say perfect, I mean flawless.
When at last I wake up and stretch lazily, I can see daylight trying to peek around the drapes. I turn to Marty and discover he's missing. I feel his side of the mammoth bed and it's cold.
Crap. What time is it? How can he have no bedside alarm clock?
I sneak out of bed and tiptoe to the open door. The passage is wide, the ceilings everywhere are high. The passage runs right from one side of the house to the other. I haven't even seen the rest of his home. I look at last night's clothing crumpled on the floor and banish that idea.
It's quite chilly actually. I'm sure he won't mind if I borrow a T-shirt to waltz around in. I flick the light switch and open his closet doors. Un-fucking-believable. This man doesn't own a single T-shirt. Button up shirts only. Sigh. Reluctantly, I pull my clothes on, which are somehow all collected together in the bedroom, run a cursory hand through my hair, and walk to the bathroom. I brush my teeth with my finger, wash my face, and go in search of the man.
I love the way he reacted to the huge mess we made last night with the water. "It's just water, let it dry on its own." Wow! He's Gary's polar opposite. These rooms are gigantic. Everything is so simplistic. A mixture of Spartan and Japanese from a non-clutter perspective. He has those huge Bedouin type throws on the walls in every room, even the ginormous entrance hall. There's a faint waft of incense. Who is this guy?
Voices? Mumbling. Who's he talking to so softly?
I keep walking until I reach the very last door. It's the only one closed. Softly, I push it open.
Wow.
The room is flooded with sunlight. The doors are open to a balcony. This is his very own pool room with a pool table dominating the space! The table is covered with scattered pool balls, their numbers as shy as me, half hidden from my perusal.
Ted gives me a brilliant smile, "Have a good night then?"
Now I'm really bloody pleased I put my clothes on.
Sheepish grin, "Hi, Ted."
He chuckles and takes his next shot. I smile at Marty and he gives me an austere expression back. Not smiling, just shooting me a fleeting wink. Well. That's a huge difference from last night.
Lindsay gives me ‘the look’. Wowzah. Okay then. That look says, ‘Hey! What the hell are you doing here girlfriend?’
I'm feeling mild vertigo. What changed? I give her the ‘Whaaaaat?’ look back.
Then oddly, just as fast as the vibe got weird and strained, everyone's back to normal. Last night was fun, but right now I'd give my push up bra to be at home. Lindsay obviously feels the same way.
"Come on Ted, we're going."
He gives her the ‘Oh come on, don't be such a medieval slave driver and let a guy have some fun’ dog-box look.
It almost works, because she finally cracks a smile, but insists, "Now."
Ted and Marty exchange the ‘uh oh’ glance.
I feel as though I interrupted something, like an intruder that isn't welcome.
Ted thumps Marty's shoulder, "Later."
Then he gives me his ‘you bad bad girl’ grin, and a quick wink, before dropping the wicked mischief to stare woefully at Lindsay.
She stares pointedly in my direction, "Coming? We'll take you home."
Jeez! What are you? My wicked stepmother?
Marty towers over Lindsay and quite assertively tells her, "I'll take her home."
This is freaky! It's like a silent power struggle over me. What the hell did I miss?
Lindsay looks at me again, obviously willing me to go with them. Why? Is there something I should know? Is he married or something? I don't want to go with her. She's in a foul mood.
I smile demurely, "Thanks for the offer, but I'm good."
Oooooh! Wrong answer obviously. She's scowling at me now and Ted almost looks apologetic.
Crikey. Work on Monday is going to be really bad at this rate.
She walks out. Ted blows me a kiss secretly and follows her. Marty follows them out of the room to show them out, and seems so serious. I'm not sure what to think. Am I the bad news, or is he? Are they trying to protect him from me, or me from him? Then what was last night about? I thought they did it deliberately.
A weighted, happy-bubble-destroying sigh leaves me as I stare out at the glorious day. Now I'm worried. I have tension grinding into my stomach lining and feel like somehow I'm in trouble.
I jump as arms wrap around me and Mr Perfect kisses my neck.
"Good morning, beautiful."
Oh melt me, why don't you? This guy's voice was made to seduce. I turn and face him. The warmth is back. Was he getting a grilling from Lindsay? I return the succulent smile he's loving me with. I am so screwed. This man is addictive. "What was that about?"
He looks out at the day highlighting his secluded mini forest of a garden, way above my height, "Nothing."
I envy tall people. They get to hide their eyes just because they're so tall and their vantage point is so elevated.
He lifts my hand and kisses it, "Coffee?"
I shake my head. I really want to escape. I'm feeling unsettled.
"Home."
His hazel eyes hone on me swiftly and I read confusion there. Shit. He thinks that I see this as just a one-nighter. And I was just getting that vibe myself.
He nods. "Okay."
He turns and leaves me there. Wow, long legs must rock! Imagine crossing a room and out the door in four strides. I'm really feeling lost. I don't know what would be appropriate. So I wander back out of the room and down the wide passage. Curiously I dawdle past huge rooms and peer in nonchalantly.
I spy him striding out of the farthest room, his bedroom, keys in hand, sunglasses propped perfectly on his head. Casually, "Have you got everything?"
I scramble. He doesn't mess around. Straight to business. I dash into his room and grab my smokes and lighter. I hurry to meet him back in the entrance hall. My eyes savouring the moment of a tall, hot man, in black jeans watching me. He could even be a model, he's got the build and the height. I still don't know anything about him. As I reach him, he slips an arm around my waist, holding me tightly against him for a moment, before guiding me with strange familiarity out of the front door and down the steps to his waiting car.
That small gesture lets me know we're okay. That whatever happened earlier wasn't my fault, or affecting him and how he feels about me. I smile, thrilled as the door is opened for me. I stare at the sunglasses and wish I could see his eyes. I can't define the drive home. He was withdrawn. Quiet. It still feels stilted and awkward.
I reason that what's done is done. I'll probably never see him again. No point in making anyone feel uncomfortable. He halts the vehicle in front of my door and I unclip the safety-belt and smile at the sunglasses, perfectly outlining an aristocratic nose poised above delectable sensual lips. I smirk slightly at the stubble. Somehow, he doesn't do scruffy.
"Thanks."
I don't try to kiss him, or touch him, or make false promises. As I turn to open the door, his hand shoots out and grabs mine. I pause and watch him, guarded. He slips the sunglasses onto his head and stares hard at me.
He kisses my hand, holds onto it, "I had fun."
I smile back, "Me too." I step out and whisper, "Bye."
I don't wait for a response. I shut t
he door and walk to my front door. I unlock it, walk through it, raise my hand at the hunkamasaurous staring at me through an open window, sunglasses back in place, wave briefly and shut the door.
I slide down it and sit on the carpet, wondering what the hell I've just done. I want to jump with unrestrained joy at finding Mr Perfect. But Lindsay and Ted just ruined it all. Now I'm completely unsure and I just know that Lindsay will have my head on the office block tomorrow. But why? Why introduce me to Marty, leave me alone with him, if she didn't want us to ever hook up? Surely it was a possibility?
Tired, I walk straight to the bathroom and start running a bath. It’s time to wash off his kisses.
* * * * *
I'm listening to music, SBI have the perfect song – the candles lit, feeling relaxed and safe, when my doorbell sounds at exactly seven o’clock. I look through the spy hole and whoever it is, is tall. I can't see who it is because the light bulb is obviously gone outside the door.
Worried, I open it. Instantaneously my heart is in my throat, a happy smile lighting up my face, my eyes glowing at a mischievously smiling Marty on the other side of my repaired security gate.
Sweet lust-dust this man is uncut temptation begging to be shot straight into my veins. He's lounging casually against the wall, a tub of ice-cream in each hand. He exudes ‘cool cat’. He holds up one hand, then the other, "I didn't know if you preferred vanilla or chocolate, so I got both."
A laugh bubbles up out of me, as I unlock the gate and let him in. My heart is bouncing off the walls like a squash ball at this unexpected surprise.
He pauses in front of me and lowers his head. No resistance here. I kiss him back eagerly. Hmm, he doesn't stop. He just follows hot breath and warm lips with more warm lips and pressure. Each kiss longer than the last. He's still holding ice-cream in each hand but wow, whatever kissing class he went to, he got his Master's degree: Professor Kiss. He could conquer the world with his kisses. Maybe he's a Casanova? My laugh ruins the moment. He grins at me, his eyes dancing with dark mystery as he nudges his head at my kitchen, "In here?"