The Middle-Aged Virgin_A Chick Lit, Romantic Comedy Novel_Newly Single And Seeking Spine-Tingles...

by Olivia Spring

  ‘Hilarious!’ said Roxy, cackling. ‘Well, although your Vincenzo encounter was short and far from sweet, at least you got a seat at the table. First you had a selection of tasty starters with Lorenzo and then—well, I guess we’ll need to say a mini-starter with Vincenzo too as we can’t really call that performance a main course.’

  ‘Definitely not!’ I said, closing my eyes as I relived the disappointing encounter in my head.

  ‘Don’t worry, hon, you’ll be fine,’ said Roxy reassuringly. ‘Oh, talking of Lorenzo, did you ever hear back from him?’

  ‘Nope. Nothing. Last time we had contact was a couple of months ago, when I invited him to Savour London. He said he’d get back to me and never did, so that’s that,’ I said, feigning nonchalance when in truth my heart was sinking. ‘Anyway,’ I said, trying not to waste any more time talking about Lorenzo. ‘Back to Charlie. So it’s a case of taking charge, then, you reckon?’

  ‘Yep. Looks that way,’ said Roxy. ‘Where are you going tomorrow?’

  ‘He hasn’t confirmed yet,’ I replied.

  ‘So now you’ve met him a few times and we know who he is and where to find him, why don’t you suggest staying in?’ said Bella. ‘Either he comes to yours for an early dinner rather than brunch, or he could invite you to his mansion slash palace, slash stately home, or wherever he lives. That way he’ll be more relaxed, you’ll be alone and then you can talk and act freely. Maybe he’s just shy.’

  ‘Good idea, Bella,’ I responded. ‘Then he’ll definitely have zero PDA concerns. Maybe it’s because he comes from a well-regarded family and he has to be seen to be acting a certain way in public in case he gets papped or lands himself in hot water à la Prince Harry in Vegas.’

  ‘True, Soph, true,’ added Roxy. ‘Just make sure if you go to his house, you send us the address and message us at regular intervals so we know he hasn’t tied you up or taken you down to his red room of pain or whatever it was called in Fifty Shades of Grey.’

  ‘Come on, Roxy.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘I’m pretty sure he’s not into S&M,’ I said confidently. But then when I thought about my recent dates and online chats, I reminded myself that I couldn’t rule it out completely…

  ‘You never know,’ said Roxy as if reading my thoughts. ‘It’s not like he’d wear a sign on his back saying, “I like to whip women and have strange fetishes”.’

  ‘True,’ I agreed.

  ‘Like I said, there’s only one way to find out, Soph,’ added Roxy. ‘Flirt outrageously, then go in for the kill, just like you did in Italy. In fact, why are we even telling you what you should be doing when you’ve done all of this already? Just channel whatever courage you had over there and apply it to this situation. Simples.’

  ‘Yep, you’re right. I just found it so strange, though. All the guys that I’ve been speaking to online and have been on dates with couldn’t wait to get in my knickers, so this threw me a little—especially the almost-handshake thing.’

  ‘Yeah, that was a bit strange, but it was probably just nerves,’ suggested Bella. ‘Funny, though, isn’t it? We complain when guys are too full-on and call them weirdos, then, when they try to be respectful and gentlemanly, we also think they either must be weird, a virgin or gay. They can’t win!’

  ‘Good point, actually, Bella. Right, like Roxy suggested, I’ll suggest a night in and try to find out more about his past relationships. On all our dates so far, he just asks loads of questions about me and tries to dodge questions I ask about him. We do have a laugh, but sometimes it does feel like I’m being interviewed for the “girlfriend” position. I know that’s essentially what a date is, but—’

  ‘Trust me,’ interjected Roxy, ‘for someone like him, at his age, and given the way you describe how he acts during the date, it does sound like you’re being vetted. He probably wants to see if you’re ready for the duties that come with being the potential wife of a multimillionaire who’s second in line to the Nana Cromwell’s throne,’ added Roxy hastily.

  ‘Well, I’m not ready for all that serious stuff, Rox,’ I said. ‘At the moment, I just want some bloody fun.’

  ‘Does he know that, Soph?’ questioned Bella. ‘Like I said, you need to do a lot more talking, not just to find out more about him and what he’s looking for, but to also see if you’re compatible—you know, romantically, to put it politely—as that is important. So those need to be the goals for tomorrow to avoid either of you wasting anymore time.’

  ‘Definitely. Bella, I’ll take your advice on board and speak to him and then, Roxy, if he doesn’t ravage me voluntarily or cart me off to his kinky room, I shall switch on full Sophia Huntingdon take-charge mode and go in for the kill.’

  I took a large sip of my prosecco and leant back on the chaise longue as I turned my thoughts to the plan for tomorrow.

  Charlie Cromwell, watch out. There’s a very determined, undersexed woman on the loose, who is on a mission to have a hot, long-lasting night of overdue passion, and she’s coming to seduce you…

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Well, I knew it would be big, but I wasn’t quite expecting this.

  No, not that…I’m talking about Charlie’s swanky riverside apartment.

  He was in the midst of giving me a guided tour, and I was trying to keep my jaw from dropping, when all I wanted to do was gasp at the enormity of it all. I attempted to play it cool (gushing about how amazing I thought it was would be a bit too cheesy…), like I regularly hung out in five-bedroom, three-bathroom penthouse properties in Battersea which had a terrace the size of an average entire two-bedroom flat overlooking the Thames. Yep, just a standard Sunday evening.

  ‘So, what do you think?’ Charlie asked as if keen to get my seal of approval.

  ‘Well, it’s all right. A bit on the small side, though, if I’m honest,’ I said, obviously joking.

  ‘That’s what my father said when he bought it, but actually, living here on my own, sometimes I find it can get a bit lonely…’ His voice trailed off as it suddenly dawned on him (probably thanks to my stunned expression) that surprisingly, I wasn’t being serious…

  ‘Oh. Sorry. I see, you were jesting!’ he said, penny finally dropping. ‘Well, do you like it?’

  ‘Of course,’ I said casually as I stepped out on to the terrace, marvelling once again at the view. ‘I mean, what’s not to like?’ In the distance I could see a host of landmarks. The London Eye, Big Ben…imagine waking up to this every morning and having a leisurely breakfast whilst taking in the views, or sipping on a cocktail out here in the evening after work. Yep, if you twisted my arm, I reckoned I could get used to it…

  Don’t get me wrong, I’d always loved my home. It’d taken years to get it exactly how I wanted it, and I was happy there. But this? Charlie’s place was on another level. Even the new, more down-to-earth me couldn’t fail to be impressed by this.

  Inside it was decorated like a show home: all neutral, safe colours. Cream leather sofas like mine (although likely significantly more expensive), solid oak flooring and marble sculptures.

  The dining area was stunning too. It was part of the huge living room, but the glass table was on a platform made from onyx marble.

  As it was a split-level penthouse, the bedrooms were upstairs and followed the same wooden/glass/neutral colours theme.

  All the rooms had wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling windows, so, as you can imagine, the views were breathtaking. Even in the main bathroom, the bathtub had been strategically placed so that you could take in the scenery whilst enjoying a soak. Wow.

  When Charlie had called earlier this morning, I’d told him that I couldn’t do brunch but would be free from around 6 p.m. I’d also said that I didn’t fancy going out and would prefer a quiet night in. I had invited him to my place, but he’d voluntarily suggested I come round to his instead, which was the perfect scenario.

  Charlie seemed relaxed. As always, he was dressed neatly. Clean-shaven, crisp white shirt and blue jeans with brown brogues polish
ed to perfection. I wondered if he ever slummed it and wore a tracksuit and trainers. Probably not. Mind you, I was a fine one to talk. Six months ago I wouldn’t have been seen dead without perfectly blow-dried hair, full face of make-up, designer clothes and four-inch heels. Oh, how times had changed.

  That said, today I’d made an effort, as I was trying to be a temptress, so had worn a tight pink dress which, despite having legs, a hint of cleavage and bare arms on show, was still very tasteful, and a pair of black, open-toed heels.

  As tonight, I was a woman on a mission, I’d come fully prepared. Everything was in order underneath this dress. I had even packed three condoms—you know, just in case. I wasn’t holding out much hope, seeing as we hadn’t even got to first base yet, but as we’d learned at Brownies (or was it Girl Guides?), it’s important to always be prepared (although when they’d taught us that motto, I’m sure they hadn’t had these kinds of adult activities in mind).

  We sat down on his sofa with a glass of wine. I let him run through his usual questions. How’s work? Any new clients on the horizon? I knew he was only taking an interest in my life, but tonight, it wasn’t talking that I wanted.

  ‘So, Charlie,’ I said, switching on my temptress button. ‘I’ve enjoyed these past few weeks with you. I feel like you’ve got to find out a lot about me, but I don’t really know that much about you. I mean, how long have you been single for, and what happened with your last relationship?’

  I could tell he was taken aback by the deer-in-headlights expression that now engulfed his face. That and the fact that he was now verging on the colour of beetroot.

  ‘Um, er, well…wow! What an opening question,’ he said, trying to compose himself. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’

  I stared at him intently and with my eyes I gave a look that said, I’m not letting this go until you answer my question so come on: spill. Sensibly, he continued:

  ‘I’ve been single for about eight months,’ he said as he started shifting in his chair. ‘I was, erm, engaged to Zara, but, er, unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, depending on how you look at it, she was, uh…involved with…extracurricular activities with another man, so, er…we, we—well, I…well, it ended.’

  He looked at me like a knife had just been plunged into his heart.

  ‘Oh, Charlie, I’m so sorry. That must have been awful, really hard to deal with,’ I said sympathetically. ‘Although, like you say, perhaps it’s better that you found out before you walked down the aisle. Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be. And,’ I added as I gently rested my hand on top of his, ‘if you’d married her, then we wouldn’t have met, so that’s a silver lining too…’ His face brightened and his shoulders appeared to loosen a little more. ‘Seeing as you’ve just had quite a serious relationship, I’m guessing that if you were engaged, you’d been going out for a while. So what are you looking for now?’ I asked. ‘Another long-term thing? Fun?’

  ‘Well, I think all relationships should be fun to a degree,’ he said, sitting more upright in the sofa. ‘Don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes, but, I mean, what are you looking for?’ I asked. ‘A girlfriend? A future wife? This is, what, the fourth time we’ve met? And clearly you’re a gentleman as you haven’t so much as tried to even kiss me. So do you see me more as a companion, or are you actually attracted to me?’ I said.

  Looks like the deer-in-headlights expression is back…

  ‘Well, of course!’ he said swiftly. ‘You’re a very attractive woman, Sophia. A man would have to be blind not to notice that. Why do you think I asked you out in the first place? I’m just more traditional. I’m trying to find a genuine connection with someone. It’s terribly hard for a man in my position,’ he said, wincing a little. ‘Sadly, I’ve encountered a number of women that want to be close to me for the wrong reasons, so I’m always wary of that. I believe intimacy is something to be treasured. I abhor women that give themselves to all and sundry at the drop of a hat. This time I want to take my time and get to know someone first, before taking things to the next stage.’

  Oh, Jesus. This doesn’t bode well.

  ‘So when you say you like to take your time, how much time are we talking here? Like six dates? Five, or maybe even four?’ I said hopefully.

  ‘I don’t think it’s something one can put a firm number on,’ he replied. ‘It’s just when it feels right. When the moment is there.’

  Did that mean I’d have to spend another three weeks waiting to see if he’d like to go to the next stage? I didn’t want to force him as clearly that wouldn’t be right, but I was so sexually frustrated. Perhaps if he was being a gentleman, he also just wanted to feel sure that I was comfortable with him going further? Yes. Maybe that was it.

  I uncrossed my legs and then crossed them again seductively, à la Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct (except my knickers were unfortunately still on), tilted my head and fluttered my eyelashes and leant forward.

  ‘Charlie, you’re a very handsome, smart and kind man.’ I leant further forward. ‘And tonight, I want to feel closer to you…’ I tilted my head and as my lips gently pressed onto his, I could feel him freeze. ‘Relax and kiss me,’ I pleaded, briefly pulling back and staring into his eyes. ‘Please. If you want to, of course…’

  This time he leaned forward and kissed me.

  Halle-fucking-lujah!

  So we were finally kissing. His lips were soft. He was very gentle at first, and then he started trying to pick up the pace by nibbling my ear and kissing my neck. His hands even started to wander.

  But…

  Houston, we have a problem.

  He seemed to be doing all the right things, but…I don’t know how to describe it. From my side, there just didn’t seem to be anything there. Nothing was happening.

  Don’t get me wrong, if he kept doing this for long enough, I was sure eventually I’d start to feel something downstairs, but there were no fireworks. There was no…I don’t know? Passion? Spark?

  Shit. And this was what I had been craving for weeks. And now I had been forward and initiated things and he was really getting into it. His hands were stroking my legs and he was nibbling on my neck like a squirrel that’s just fallen headfirst into a Nutella factory, and I was feeling nothing!

  He gently eased me down backwards on the sofa, his eyes filled with lust and desire.

  What happened to all that intimacy needs to be treasured and I want to take my time stuff from five minutes ago?

  So now you’re upset because he’s doing what you wanted? Relax and focus, Sophia. You haven’t had sex since the dinosaurs walked the earth (well, proper sex anyway. Vincenzo didn’t really count). This is your chance. Just do what they did in the olden days and lie back and think of England.

  It’s because you’re overthinking rather than paying attention to what’s going on in front of you. You have a handsome man who is smart and kind on top of you, and he seems like he’s up for some hanky-panky, so what are you waiting for?

  Yes, Reasanna…I can confirm that he definitely is. At least I could safely report back to Roxy that a) he was not gay and b) evidently from the rod that was now firmly resting very close to my inner thigh, he was very happy to see me.

  ‘Oh, Sophia, what are you doing to me?’ he said, stroking my face gently. ‘I hadn’t planned for this to happen. I wanted us to take our time, but you—then you started kissing me, and your lips are just so soft and delicious and irresistible. I can’t help myself.’ His fingers then began circling my nipples. You could tell he couldn’t wait to remove my dress and bra to gain full access. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, pausing again. ‘Of course, if you prefer that I stop, please do say.’

  ‘No! No,’ I said enthusiastically, trying to convince myself. ‘I want this, Charlie, I do.’

  Yes, I do. I do. Come on. I can do this.

  The moment those words had escaped my mouth, he launched at me again. Kissing my lips, then my neck, then he paused whilst he unbuttoned the top of his shirt and pulled it over his he
ad.

  A flashback of luscious Lorenzo with his gorgeous olive skin, hairy chest and firm abs flooded my brain. With his pale chest and slightly rounded stomach, Charlie’s physique was certainly different. That said, considering he probably spent all day eating cakes and biscuits, I guess Charlie was in good shape.

  Stop it, Sophia! Reasanna piped up again.

  Looks aren’t everything. Charlie’s a good man, and you’ve been bleating on for weeks about wanting some action. Now it’s right in front of you, and you’re spending all your time thinking rather than grabbing the opportunity with both hands.

  Yes, okay, Reasanna. This might not be ticking the ‘experience passion’ box on my MAP list so far, but it is part of point number seven. I should be embracing this.

  ‘Oh, Charlie, I want you,’ I said, deciding to throw myself into it.

  ‘Oh, Sophia,’ he said, looking so high on lust I thought he was going to pass out. ‘I want you too. Come. Let’s go upstairs.’

  He took my hand and led me up to his bedroom. Looks like I am finally going to get some action!

  ‘That was amazing!’ he said, panting and gasping for breath. ‘Goodness me!’ He flopped backwards on to the bed, then put his hands behind his head, as he rested back on the pillow. ‘Sophia, that was incredible. Thank you.’

  Well, it was okay I guess. He came. I didn’t. Like before, I’d remembered what to do. Not that I really did much other than lie on my back, move about a bit and make the occasional noise here and there to reassure him I was still alive.

  It was a bit awkward in parts. Once we’d got the condom on, he’d struggled a little with getting the right positioning, but after I’d guided him, that was sorted. But then the rhythm just didn’t seem to be right. We couldn’t get the ‘flow’. A bit like dancing, and the person is stepping on your feet, or not in time. We managed to make it work eventually, though.

  It wasn’t that adventurous. We just stuck to the missionary position. It was all over in about five minutes anyway (so at least an improvement on my last encounter) as clearly, like me, it had been a while for him so he had a lot of pent-up ‘emotions’, shall we say, to release. I didn’t mind too much, though, because unfortunately, as much as I tried, I still wasn’t feeling it…