“Wow! You must have been hungry.”
“Sorry,” I said meekly at my own embarrassment once again.
“Don’t apologise. It’s a compliment … I think.”
“I did say it was lovely,” I repeated. Hearing her giggle at my words made me suitably relieved. I plucked a piece of bread from the bowl to bide my time, ripping off pieces to wipe up the leftover sauce on my plate. “Lauren Bacall!” I said after dredging the depths of my brain for a name, confident she would know what I was talking about.
She smiled at my words. “Definitely! The Big Sleep. Key Largo, great film noir.”
“Film noir?” I asked. I knew roughly what it was but I wanted to hear her talk more about a subject she was obviously passionate about.
“Mostly American films of the forties and fifties. Dark, gloomy, pessimistic, hard-boiled detectives and gangsters, usually a bit bleak. It was the flipside to the big flashy musical comedies they were also making at the same time.” She took a drink from her wine after cleaning her plate. “Of course that brings up Humphrey Bogart. Bit nasally but he’ll have to go on the list.”
Her question about foreign actors had finally begun to percolate. “Do you think places like Germany or France have such characteristic regional accents like we do in the UK? I mean you can tell from the first few words if someone is from Liverpool, Cornwall or Newcastle. I’m guessing it must be like that for other countries,” I queried.
“Good question. I know France can be quite regional, but as an outsider it’s quite hard to pick up on it.”
We continued to ponder this possibility over a slice of very tasty Mississippi Mud Pie.
The scratch on my face had become incredibly itchy and my hand instinctively rubbed at it.
“Leave it,” Jamie scolded. “Or you’ll make it scar.” Reaching across, she pulled my hand away.
“It’s really itchy, though.”
“That’s good. It means it’s healing up.”
“Is that actually true or just an old wives tale?”
A smile stretched across her face. “I’m not sure. My mother always used to say it when I had scrapes on my knees.”
Her eyes locked with mine for several seconds before she turned her attention to the pudding in the middle of the table. “Would you like anymore?”
“No thanks. It was lovely, though. I’m as full as an egg,” I said as she stood, taking the dessert with her.
I picked up our empty plates, following her into the kitchen. “Well, that was one of the best meals I’ve had in ages.”
“One of the best?”
She turned towards me, eyebrows raised almost into her hairline. Sucking the cream off her thumb from the remaining dessert she had just placed in the fridge, my eyes focused on the residue left on her top lip. Pulling the napkin from my pocket, I moved towards her.
“You have some …”
A slight look of confusion crossed her face until she saw the napkin coming towards her. Gently dabbing at the cream, I felt her eyes bore into me the whole time. My eyes moved up to meet hers and I saw the dark desire as I felt a hand move to my waist. Dropping the tissue, my thumb softly traced the shape of her lips. I lowered my head, bringing our lips together. But the brief excitement I felt at her soft lips was cut short by loud noises outside the kitchen window. “Aarr! Oohh!” followed by lots of loud kissing sounds.
“What the fu–?” I whispered as we both looked in unison out the small window to see several heads resting above the fence line as they continued to clap and whoop.
“My neighbours, the students. They’re meant to be moving out but as you can see they’re still here.”
I turned to her as she spoke. Her face was as red as mine felt.
“Well, might as well give them a show.” I pulled her towards me, quickly covering her lips with mine. Moving her back towards the work surface, I half-lifted her up. Pushing her thighs apart, our bodies melded together.
“Is this real?” Jamie whispered in my ear.
“Very,” I whispered against her lips. Cupping the side of her face, I kissed her, running the tip of my tongue along her bottom lip, seeking entrance. She tasted of red wine and chocolate. The warmth of her touch was mind-blowing. I could feel the blood rushing from my brain in favour of other more important areas.
Jamie pulled back briefly to whisper, “Would you like to stay over?”
Hearing those words spill from her mouth brought me back to reality. I so wanted to but the fear had set in – the ifs and buts. I knew from my short time with Jamie that I could very easily get lost in her.
“I’d love to, but … I can’t … I need to finish off some work and email it off to James tonight. I’m sorry.”
I saw the look of hurt in her eyes. I felt awful. I’d led her on only to let her down. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her; I just needed to take a step back, think it through. She definitely didn’t seem the fling type; no one lays down this much ground work for a one-night stand. What did that mean for me, especially as we had to work together?
I stepped back, leaving her sat on the worktop. “Are you free for lunch tomorrow, say one o’clock?” I asked hopefully. I didn’t know what I wanted long-term, but I knew I didn’t want it to end like this.
“I could be,” she finally said. She looked a little brighter at my invitation.
“I’ll pick you up,” I offered.
Stepping closer again, I noticed her hands were firmly gripping the worktop this time. I kissed her softly on the lips. “Good night and thank you for a lovely evening.”
I quietly closed the front door behind me before slipping into my car. Looking back at the neat cottage as the outside light flicked off, I hoped I’d be clearer in my intentions the next time I visited Jamie.
Arriving back at my hotel, I did a bit of surfing, looking for a good restaurant we could walk to from Jamie’s place. I figured Saturday lunchtime was going to be a pretty busy time. Luckily, I managed to call and make a reservation ready for our next meeting – or date, if that’s what it was. It felt like a date. We had never actually used that word but it was pretty clear to me what it was. And this would be our fourth meeting, if you count the burying of the hatchet, the night walk and tonight’s meal. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been on so many dates, especially with the same person. Now I just needed to figure out what I wanted from all this.
Chapter 7
Pressing the doorbell, I felt the nerves begin to jangle again. I quickly wiped my moist palms on my thighs before the door opened fully.
“Hello there!” Her voice was warm and kind.
“Hey!” I stepped inside, pushing the door closed behind me.
“I just need to find my shoes. Where are we going exactly?”
“Piccolino’s. It’s meant to be good?” I half questioned.
“It is. I took my parents there when they visited a few months ago.”
Watching her walk off down the hall, dressed in hipster jeans and a short, red, checked shirt, she looked amazing. I reached out, grasping her hand as it swung towards me. She turned at my touch, a half-smile on her lips. Using my free hand, I cupped the side of her face.
“I’m sorry about last night. I promise I don’t make a habit of declining such an invitation.”
“Good, because I don’t make a habit of giving them out.”
Touché. I hoped I was up to this challenge. “I’ll try and remember that.” I kissed her tenderly, sucking on her bottom lip before she slipped from my grasp. I glanced around the bright hallway as I waited. My eyes fell on the watercolour again near the bottom of the stairs.
“Where’s this?” I asked as Jamie reappeared from the sitting room.
“It’s Ashill-on-Sea in Suffolk. My aunt recently moved back there. I bought it when I visited last month.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Ashill or the painting?”
“Both.” My phone buzzing in my back pocket interrupted my inspection. Seeing Lucy’s name flash u
p I was torn between answering it and letting it go to voicemail. It could be work-based, but it could equally be a social call and not something I wanted to have in front of Jamie. I was more than a little freaked out by the fact that I was now being pursued by two individuals, one of whom was a little awkward and unwelcome. I recalled the conversation I had had with Lucy yesterday. It crossed my mind that she was taking a leaf out of Jamie’s book, creating an argument so we would have to make up somehow. If I thought Jamie had been that scheming I wouldn’t be standing in her hallway about to take her for lunch, but the thought of Lucy, a work colleague, being that manipulative made me very uneasy.
I had known her for over a year. In all that time she had been nothing less than professional. Although over the last few surveying jobs she had become marginally friendlier, I just thought we were getting to know each other better. I had never harboured any romantic feelings for her, despite James’s opinion that everyone is my type. She was incredibly capable at her job, she had found solutions to a number of problems we had had with designs, and there was never a problem with her commitment. She was always eager to help, stepping up when required and making herself indispensable in many ways. On a personal level, there did seem to be something missing. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. She had started to make me feel uncomfortable and not in a good way, as Jamie did and continued to do. I could never see myself being intimate with Lucy and certainly not now. Not that that was what I looked for in a colleague, but when she tried being over-friendly and suggestive it became a personal issue for me. I let the call go to voicemail before slipping the phone back in my pocket.
Lunch at Piccolino’s was every bit as good as the reviews I had read online. I chose baby back ribs and house-cut chips while Jamie had calzone filled with salami and buffalo ricotta, all washed down with a bottle of merlot. Suitably stuffed, we slowly waddled back to Jamie’s house. We both hovered on the short path to her front door for several moments until Jamie finally spoke.
“Would you like to come in for a drink?”
“Yes, please.”
I followed her closely to the front door as she opened it. I could smell her intoxicating scent as it mixed with her sun-warmed skin.
“Wine? Red or white?” Jamie asked, as she shut the door behind me.
“Uh, red, please,” I replied, not wanting to mix my drinks at this stage. I continued following her into the kitchen, leaning against the worktop as she selected a bottle of red wine from her rack set in a base unit. Placing the wine on the worktop, she came towards me, a smile stretched across her face. Stopping just to the side of me, I locked eyes with her as she reached up to retrieve something from a cupboard. I instinctively hooked a finger in her front pocket, pulling her hips tight to mine. Using my other hand to steady her, I loosely gripped her waist. We stood there, eye-to-eye, for several seconds. This told me two things. Firstly, she hadn’t totally forgiven me for ducking out last night, and secondly, I had to be the one to make the first move. Pulling my hand from her waist, I slid it under her shirt, instantly feeling the warmth of her smooth skin. Her eyes never budged from mine as my hand went higher, feeling the curve of her rib cage then the swell of her breast, using my thumb to circle and bring to life the nipple below. I could feel her breathing increase as her lips parted. I edged closer, kissing her lips softly, and pulled back as she opened her eyes, locking them on mine. They were as velvety as I had remembered from last night. I moved in closer again, kissing her more firmly. She quickly responded to my actions; a warm hand on the back of my neck pulled me in a little deeper. She tasted of red wine and spicy salami. Kissing along her jaw bone, I slowly moved to her ear, whispering, “Can I stay over?” I didn’t want to be presumptuous after declining last night.
I felt her chest jiggle as she chuckled. Working my way back to her parted lips again, I kissed her again as I continued to circle her now-firm nipple with my fingers.
“Yes,” was her rushed reply as she pressed her hips firmly against mine, pushing me against the worktop.
Moving my hand up from her breast to her lower neck, I began to pull apart the poppers of her shirt, exposing her smooth skin. I pulled back after releasing the final popper to admire her fully.
“You have a beautiful body,” I said, as my hand roamed over her tight stomach.
“There is a little more of it,” she replied with a grin.
Always with the humour! I used my finger to trace the inside of her waistband. “I was hoping there might be.”
“Follow me upstairs and I might let you see it.”
I flicked my eyebrows in reply and she took my hand, leading me through her house. Reaching the bedroom, she stopped near the foot of the bed before turning to face me. Her room was bright and airy despite the blue-grey walls and sumptuous, dark floorboards. All of the furniture was in keeping with the Georgian period. I could imagine Jamie scouting antique markets, looking for just the right pieces. A duvet and sheet were folded back on the bottom of the bed, exposing cornflower-blue sheets. I immediately went to work, pushing her open shirt off her shoulders, exposing the full beauty of her black lacy bra and its contents before starting on her jeans.
Jamie reciprocated, lifting up my arms to relieve me of my t-shirt and bra. Her warm hands roamed my upper body as I pushed her jeans over her hips, taking the black briefs that matched her bra with them. Maybe she was expecting something to happen between us, too. She stepped out of her jeans before undoing mine.
Standing in just my underwear, a wave of nerves fell over me. I was usually the confident one, the one to throw someone on the bed and jump on top of them in a moment of passion. I wanted more than that for me and Jamie, something lasting, and it scared the hell out of me.
“I like your undercrackers. Very sexy.”
She must have sensed my anxiety. “My what?” I replied, laughing as she twanged my waistband. I felt a wave of elation at my lengthy pondering over my choice of boy-short underwear this morning. I stroked the inside of her thigh, feeling the wetness on my fingers. My hand followed the trail, parting her wet lips to circle her clit. She gasped a little before responding, cupping me fully, pressing firmly just in the right place to make me groan loudly. My groan must have spurred her on as she pushed me the short distance towards the wall. I felt the cool metal of the old-fashioned column, cast-iron radiator against the backs of my legs, giving me a cold ledge to rest on. Pulling her against me, my thigh slipped between hers and I continued to circle her clit with my fingers as she craved more pressure, riding my thigh. Her hand slipped under the waistband of my ‘undercrackers’, warm fingers quickly finding my wetness. Resting her forehead near my temple, her groaning increased the closer she got, letting out a loud groan, stretching her neck towards the ceiling as she came. Her body shuddered against mine as she continued to thrust against me, using slower, more-considered motions. Releasing her, I felt the throb of her hot centre as I withdrew my fingers. My hand moved to her lower back, preventing any slippage, and my other hand went to the back of her neck as she recaptured her breath, my hand rising and falling with her hot body. I soaked up the few moments of downtime like a sponge, wallowing in the feeling of accomplishment while dripping with anticipation of what was going to happen next.
Seconds later, she came to life, kissing the side of my face. She leant back, locking eyes with me before moving in for a deep, sensual kiss. Now fully in control of her body, she slipped off my thigh. Standing up, she pulled me with her back towards the bed, a wicked glint in her eye. Sitting on the edge of her bed, I thought her legs had given out after her earlier exertion. Instead, her hands went to my hips, pulling down my underwear. Lifting up my right leg to release me of my pants, she did the same with my other leg, but instead of setting it back on the floor she lifted it to her left side on the bed. Bringing my hot centre directly into her eye-line, she wasted no time, kissing the inside of my exposed thigh before pulling me closer to her parted lips. The heat from her tongue and lips was almost to
o much, as I tried to regulate my breathing. Her mouth quickly found my hard clit and I realised this would be a very quick event. Resting one hand on her shoulder for stability, I could feel my climax beginning to build. I buried my other hand in her hair as I began gently thrusting towards her. She must have realised how close I was as she started groaning, creating a slight vibration next to my clit, tipping me over the edge. I just managed to keep my balance as my body jerked. Her hands held me firmly as my wobbly legs almost gave way. Catching my breath, I looked down to see Jamie wiping her swollen lips on the back of her hand before pulling me closer, softly kissing my stomach. She looked up, meeting my eyes.
“I think you might need to lie down.”
“At the very least,” I replied with a giggle.
Jamie quickly scooted up the bed, resting back against the double pillows at the top. I crawled on all fours, following her. Resting above her, I kissed her glistening lips before collapsing next to her. We cuddled for several minutes before I gripped the duvet with my foot. Dragging it towards me, I covered us both.
“Chimp feet!”
“What?” I asked, turning to her, a little shocked at her outburst.
“You heard, chimpy.”
“Oh, really?” I said, launching an attack on her torso, my fingers quickly discovering those tender tickle spots we all try and nonchalantly protect in the hope that no one will ever suspect. Her unruly, flailing limbs and rowdy, hoarse laughter soon turned into something else as she smothered my body with hers, securing my hands in an effort to prevent further tickling. Suddenly, there was a look in her eye as she pushed forward, devouring my lips. I attempted to keep up as we attacked each other’s bodies, flipping each other over in an effort to find release.
I rolled on top, kissing her firmly. I felt the need to take control. I’d never taken this long to reach the inevitable goal. I could feel myself getting light-headed from all the tossing and turning. Each time we got close to release she pulled back. I figured she was stringing it out as long as possible. I spoke softly next to her ear. “I really need to come.”
Out of The Blue Page 6
