Proposition

by Wegner, Ola

  All he wanted to do was to stare at her, kiss her, and touch her. The resolution to work was strong in him, it really was, and he’d even informed Amy that he had some important work to do, and needed some peace and quiet. On her part, she had taken great pains not to disturb him, and behaved very quietly. But by her simply providing him a cup of tea or even if she crossed the room to water the plants, she distracted him, his eyes following her devotedly.

  Jake seriously doubted whether Amy was aware of the effect she had on him. She seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that he was, lacking for better words, crazy about her. Everyone seemed to see it, her father, Claire, her friends and his employees, everyone apart from her. Did she really believe that he’d married her just because he needed a wife? In that case any woman would do. Couldn’t she feel it in his every word and touch? When he’d been proposing to her he’d decided to be cautious, believing that revealing his true feelings for her then would have only worsened the situation. She’d have probably thought him to be even madder than she’d initially believed him to be.

  Jake presumed that her lack of self confidence had something to do with her own insecurities as a woman, and he wondered from where on earth it’d come from? Perhaps it was her mother’s fault. Amy never talked about her as if she hadn’t ever existed. All Jake knew about the former Mrs. Carpenter was that one day she’d simply left her husband and ten year old Amy and seven year old Peter, disappearing from their lives.

  Once again, he was thinking about her instead of working. He shrugged inwardly, he couldn’t help that she was constantly on his mind, especially when things seemed to be progressing so nicely between them. Judging by her recent behavior, she was warming towards him, softening in her attitude, allowing new intimacies every day, willingly tolerating or even dare he say, purposely seeking his company.

  Jake was perfectly aware that at the very beginning she’d been determined to treat him as a total stranger, keeping him at arm’s length both emotionally, and physically, which resulted in her attempts to fight him at every corner. Gradually he managed to break through this wall of her resistance that she’d built around herself, not only against him, but he presumed, against anyone else who would have tried to come closer. He was sure that even though she hadn’t admitted it yet to herself, she’d accepted him as a part of her life.

  It wasn’t love on her part, not yet at least. He wasn’t stupid enough to fool himself that she loved him. But he was convinced that she felt something for him, even if it was only infatuation. The best proof for that was that she started accepting the intimate side of their marriage, clearly enjoying the way he touched, and kissed her. He wanted her so much, waking up hard after dreaming of her, but he wasn’t sure whether her reasons for deepening their intimate relations were the right ones. He desperately wished her to have at least a bit of genuine affection for him, before having sex with her. He craved their lovemaking, but also wanted it to be more than a mere physical fulfillment between them.

  On the other hand, he had no heart to deny her the pleasure her eyes shyly asked for every night. From that evening when he’d first caressed her breasts, he’d been doing it every night. And because of her period there was no question to do anything more. She’d tried to return the favor, running her hand down his body, exploring shyly. But he stopped her gently, hushing her, and cradling her to him, not wanting to turn things too heated between them too soon, and frighten her away.

  The situation repeated itself every night for the next week or so. They had engaged in light petting, caressing each other’s upper bodies, cuddling and kissing. But just last night, when they’d slipped under the covers and he’d peeled off her top, and started as usual playing with her breasts, it had been she who had made the first move. She’d taken his hand and guided it under the waistband of her pajamas pants. When he caught her gaze, wanting to make sure she knew what she was asking for, she’d looked so utterly vulnerable. He couldn’t say no to her. First, he’d just stroked her through the soft cotton of her panties, his lips nibbling at her throat. It had been enough to make her dripping wet, soft pants coming from her mouth. With one hand, he tugged at her panties, and she lifted her bottom to help him remove them completely. He had barely fingered her, stroking her labia, and grazing lightly over her clit with his thumb, and it was enough to make her come.

  When she’d returned to her senses, she’d insisted on pleasuring him too, and he let her this time. Her touch though shy, awkward and unskilled, was still so impossibly arousing to him, that he’d come easily too, amazingly just from her almost innocent, unsophisticated stroking. It was clear she didn’t feel adventurous enough to give him anything even close to a blowjob yet, and though he’d have loved to feel her mouth on him, he had no intention of forcing her into anything she wasn’t ready for.

  It amazed him, but for her age, she looked innocent to him. Not that he disliked the fact; on the contrary, it was more than fine with him. But the guy she’d been with before, that lawyer, had to know nothing about how to please a woman, or more probably hadn’t cared for her pleasure, the selfish bastard. From what he’d read about him from the report prepared by the detective agency he’d hired, this Michael Cummings seemed to be, to cut things short, sort of a loser. His marriage wasn’t doing very well, as his wife had returned to her parents a few months ago, so they were literally in separation. Moreover, he’d lost a few cases, making the firm lose one or two important clients. There was little doubt that it was only a matter of time before he would get sacked. The guy looked pretty pathetic to him, which explained why Amy had been interested in him in the first place, with her tender heart and nurturing instincts. Hopefully, one day, she would have a few of his babies to exercise those admirable traits.

  With determination, Jake forced himself to concentrate on the numbers on his laptop screen, but soon his thoughts drifted to the previous night again. She’d been shy with him this morning; she blushed under his gaze, and he had no heart to tease her about it. There was a need and hunger in her eyes and he knew that she wouldn’t have protested having full intercourse now. That was heady stuff for him, that she’d reacted so fiercely to his touch, and went wild the moment he started caressing her. Something was telling him that it was just a matter of days before she’d be ready to make love.

  He shook his head. How on earth could he focus on his work, knowing there was a probability that he would soon get laid with the woman he’d wanted for years? The sooner the better; he moved in his chair, trying to accommodate his growing erection.

  He was in his thirties for god’s sake, and he really shouldn’t have an uncontrolled erection a few times during a day at his age. Gone were the years when he was a hormonal teenager. God, but when he got his hands on her that first time, there would be no mercy, he’d have her at least twice a day, every night, and every morning. But for the time being such musings didn’t help much, he realized, frowning reproachfully at the front of his trousers. At last he opened his belt buckle and released his aching cock, laying it on his belly. That was a bit better, he thought stroking himself leisurely, his head rolling on the headrest. Perhaps he should jerk himself off, otherwise there would be no work done at all.

  His activity was abruptly interrupted with a soft knock at the door. Hastily he adjusted his clothes, wincing slightly when putting his still half erect penis back into his snug trunks, zipping his jeans.

  “Come in,” he said, surprised to be disturbed. As far as he knew, the office was empty.

  It was Amy, looking lovely, which wasn’t surprising. She always looked so nice, prettier every day. However taking a closer look at her, he noticed that today her hair looked different.

  “You hair.” He focused on her new much shorter, sleek, hairdo. “What have you done with it?” he asked with a frown.

  “Like it?” she smiled expectantly.

  He gave her a long, appraising look. “It’s so straight,” he said, not yet decided whether to approve the new style
or not.

  Her hair was not exactly curly, but it had a slight wave to it. Now it was completely straight. She looked much more mature, and though her previous appearance of an eighteen-year-old teenager was very appealing, she looked sexier now.

  “It’s nice,” he judged at last. “It suits you. But don’t cut it shorter,” he added more firmly.

  “Excuse me?” She narrowed her eyes on him. “You intend to actually demand how long my own hair should be?” One brow raised high on her forehead, her hands on her hips.

  “I...” Jake stammered, trying to figure out whether she was really angry with him or just kidding around.” I simply love it longer,” he managed awkwardly.” But the shoulder length is very nice too,” he assured her catching between his fingers the end of one sleek wisp which just brushed her shoulder.

  Amy only rolled her eyes, and waved her hand at him, clearly indicating him to be a lost case. “My hair is not the reason I’m here,” she said, her tone bearing the quality of utmost importance.

  Jake regarded her carefully. “Something happened?” he whispered, wincing inwardly at his own tender voice. He wasn’t able to quite believe how mushy he’d become since his marriage.

  She shook her head and snuggled against him with trust. “Nothing’s happened. I was close by and...” she started but soon became aware of her husband’s aroused state, which only returned with force since she’d come.

  “I’ve been thinking of you,” he acknowledged sheepishly, his gaze following hers down between their bodies.

  She didn’t comment on this, just smiled saucily. Her hand moved down his chest and cupped him gently through the trousers.

  “Amy...” he tried to brush her hand away, but she shushed him, lifted on her toes, and kissed him.

  “Just relax,” she purred and pushed him back until he sat on the edge of his desk.

  He didn’t stop her when she opened his trousers, and eased them down his legs together with his underwear. If she wanted to do this, he was the last person to try to convince her to change her mind.

  Her fingers stroked him, very gently rubbing the tip, her mouth kissed his throat. “Yes, just like that, sweetheart...” he breathed, as she continued her soft stroking, pulling at his cock, and stroking the tip. She opened his shirt and started kissing his chest, rubbing herself against him.

  “Yeah, just like that....” His knuckles turned white as he grasped the edge of the desk.

  He fought the temptation to push her to his knees, take her head into his hands, and shove deep into her mouth. But it was too soon, he didn’t want to frighten her, or worse put her off. She was innocent, shy, and timid about sex. He respected and valued it.

  When he couldn’t stand any more of this torture, in one swift, not so gentle move he lifted her up into his arms. He reversed their previous positions, sat her on the desk, and reached impatiently under the pencil skirt she wore. It took him some time to lower her pantyhose and panties. She didn’t stop him for a single moment, even helped him by lifting her bottom.

  “Fuck,” he cursed in frustration, on realizing that the desk was too low for what he intended. Looking around he spotted a sofa, and without a moment of hesitation, he lifted her into his arm, awkwardly walking the length of the room, his legs still restricted by his trousers, tumbling around his ankles.

  Gently, Jake deposited her on the sofa, and she readily lifted her skirt up, exposing her soft lower belly, rounded hips, and clipped triangle of chestnut curls. With a growl he covered her body with his, intending to rub himself between her soft, warm, thighs into oblivion. But she couldn’t quite manage opening her legs to accommodate him, as her pantyhose restricted her moving.

  Lifting himself, red and panting, Jake began tugging furiously at the black nylon, trying unsuccessfully to push the damn pantyhose down her legs.

  “That’s not funny,” he snorted, glaring at her when she started giggling at his feeble efforts. “I hate these damned things.”

  He pulled at the elastic material again in frustration, without much success. It was like some kind of rubber. How on earth could women wear these and feel comfortable?

  She took pity on him, pushing him off her, sat up and swiftly pulled the pantyhose down her legs together with her panties. Her legs opened again, and she brought him back to her body, clasped her thighs against his lean hips, wriggling impatiently under him.

  “Don’t worry... I’m not going to...” he murmured into her lips, shutting his eyes against the wondrous sensation, while he rubbed himself tortuously slowly against her warm plump pussy. “I simply need to...” he growled into her neck, moving faster against her, while she curled her limbs around him and held on, stroking his back under his shirt, and spreading small kisses on the side of his neck.

  It didn’t take long when Jake felt his release approaching and taking himself in one hand spilled onto her soft belly, careful not to get his sperm anywhere lower.

  Snuggling next to her on his side, he let her cradle his head on her shoulder. They lay there for a few long moments, their lower bodies exposed, his sperm glistening on her belly.

  “Amy?” He lifted on his arm, gazed into her eyes. “We need to think about protection unless you want to have a child now.”

  Their eyes met, before she shook her head. “No, it’s too soon for a baby...” She paused as if wanting to say something more but again she shook her head. “It’s too soon, too much.”

  Jake didn’t comment on this, but he agreed with her. A child should be born between people sure of their mutual love and trust. He was sure, of course, but Amy was still confused.

  “Stay here,” he murmured, kissed the tip of her nose and lifted from her.

  He returned from the bathroom that adjoined his office a moment later, his clothes again in the right order, a wet towel in his hand. He cleaned her, put her panties back in place, but left it to her to readjust the pantyhose.

  “I haven’t told you why I came here,” she said as she smoothed down her skirt.

  Looking at her over his shoulder, he cocked his brow. “Is it not obvious?”

  Amy punched him playfully on the arm. “Don’t be so cocky.” She took a deep breath and announced, “I came here because I found it.”

  He frowned. “Found what?”

  “The house.”

  “Ah, I see.” He took her hands and drew her to him. “And you want me to see it?”

  She nodded, grinning. “Yes, the real estate agent gave me the key so we can go there whenever we want. I really like it. It’s absolutely perfect,” she emphasized, her eyes twinkling in excitement.

  “Right.” He walked back to his desk. “So, tomorrow perhaps?”

  She bit her lower lip. “What about today?”

  “You want to go now?”

  She looked at him pleadingly. “Please, please, pretty please.”

  Oh, God, how he could say no to her when she stared at him like that.

  “I still have some work to do, today,” he started hesitantly, but seeing barely concealed disappointment in her dark eyes, he conceded quickly, “But I guess I can finish it later at home.”

  Less than hour later, they pulled up in front of an old house, situated in a good residential neighborhood. It was built sometime in the forties or even earlier. There were tall trees around it, just turning colors of red and yellow, obviously planted around the time when the house had been erected.

  Jake stared at the property. “It’s old.”

  “So what?” Amy cried defensively. He glanced down at her. It was plain that she already loved the house and took any criticism about it as a personal insult.

  Jake decided to bait her a bit, pretending to have some serious objections. “It’ll surely need lots of repairs,” he noted skeptically.

  “It won’t,” Amy assured quickly. “It was completely refurbished ten years ago. Everything was changed including pipes and central heating.”

  She took his hand, dragging him onto the porch, but still he fa
ked reluctance.

  “There’s no garage,” he complained.

  “There is!” she cried in triumph. “It’s at the back of the house, for two cars.” She pulled him to the front door. “Look at all those little details, so well preserved, all these carvings,” she chatted enthusiastically, opening the door. “And look at those hardwood floors! Aren’t they beautiful? They’re original from the 1940s, and they are in the entire house, also upstairs. Of course I’d like to change the wall coloring, and the kitchen because it’s much too dark, I’d prefer something lighter. And can you imagine that there’s a small conservatory at the back of the house added a few years ago where I could grow my plants.”

  Jake took his time looking around the living room. “It’s small,” he judged at last.

  Amy contradicted at once. “The downstairs is quite spacious.”

  He turned from her and climbed the first steps of the staircase. “How many bedrooms are there upstairs?”

  “Three,” she conceded, but added quickly. “But all of them are quite big, each with a bathroom and walk-in wardrobe.”

  “Amy, we would need more than three bedrooms.” He knew she thought about the same thing, about the children they would have one day, each of them needing a room of its own.

  “This house speaks to me,” she said as the last resort.

  Jake looked at her. “It speaks to you,” he repeated.

  “Yes, you know I saw him and I already knew it is the one.”

  “He?”

  “Yes.”

  “Right,” Jake nodded. “He is the one.”

  “I really like it.” She looked up at him, biting her lower lip.

  “You know that I cannot refuse you anything when you look at me like this, don’t you?” he asked her.