Lorenzo was the man that made me lose my mind so much that I’d spent days, weeks even stalking his Facebook page. Dreaming about him. The hot chef that I’d sent embarrassing gushy messages to.
He was also the man who’d said he’d meet me in Florence for a weekend together and then stood me up at the last minute. I’d then spent four days there all on my own and getting soaked on that never-ending trip to Cinque Terre, feeling sorry for myself. In fact, what the fuck was I doing going to see him after he’d put me through all that shit? How had I let Reasanna talk me into this? Imagine what the frienmittee would say if they knew I was meeting him.
In fact, I should let Bella and Roxy know, shouldn’t I? For safety reasons?
Fuck it. They’ll only tell me I’m crazy. This was my decision. Something I felt I needed to do. I would just trust my gut.
Thirty minutes to go…
Time to freshen up my make-up. I added a deeper, more prominent cat eye flick, a light dusting of powder to eliminate shine on my T-zone, and of course applied a seductive red lip…
I’m so fucking nervous!
I smoothed out the front of my dress with my hands as I stood back to examine myself in the bathroom mirror. Always harder to look sexy in December when it’s cold outside. I’d opted for a knee-length black dress with three-quarter-length sleeves and cleavage tastefully on show. I’d brave the cold so that I could have bare legs and wear my scarlet peep-toe shoe boots. This look was smartish, yet casual and, most importantly, sexy.
Fifteen minutes to go…
Done.
Make-up, outfit and hair all on fleek, as my niece Jasmine says. The salon team gave me the thumbs-up and lots of encouragement as I stepped outside into the crisp London air.
It was now 18.23. No point jumping in a taxi—it would take an inordinate amount of time with all the traffic on Regent Street. In these boots, it’d take me a comfortable ten minutes to walk to All Bar One, which meant I’d arrive there just a few minutes after 18.30. He didn’t strike me as the punctual type, so I should have time to pop to the ladies’ for one last check up and still head back upstairs to be fashionably late at 18.40.
As I walked back upstairs, I scanned the area. The long wooden bar, which was in front of a huge wall with illuminated shelves filled with hundreds of different bottles of wine, was heaving with office workers having a drink after work as well as shoppers and tourists. All of the tanned banquette seating in the centre was full, as well as the stools at the back. By the window underneath the row of pendant white ceiling lights, there were a handful of wooden tables for two that were empty. But judging by how busy it was, they wouldn’t be free for much longer.
What if he doesn’t turn up? I asked myself probably for the eight hundredth time today. Of course I’d be livid, but at least I would have tried and wouldn’t have travelled hundreds of miles to see him. It would cost me a fifteen-pound cab ride home rather than the grand I’d wasted last time. And for the sake of the price of a cocktail, it was worth a try. Because after all, what if he did turn up?
That’s right. Think positively, Sophia.
I hovered underneath the hanging giant black-and-white clock near the bar and glanced out the window.
Holy shit.
Is that him?
A gorgeous guy who bore more than a passing resemblance to Lorenzo walked past the window, then past the door.
Oh? I thought it was him. That’s a shame.
Wait…he’s coming back!
Said hot guy walked back towards the door and then through it.
It is him.
OMFG—he is sooooooooooooooooo hot.
He flashed that killer smile at me and it took all my strength to remain upright.
‘Wow!’ he said as he walked towards me. ‘Sophia. You look even more beautiful than I remember. Che bella.’ He stood back, looked me up and down, nodding with approval and smiling as he did.
‘Wow yourself, Lorenzo,’ I replied, trying to play it cool and failing miserably.
His hair has grown back, but had been freshly shaved down at the sides, leaving it slightly wavy and beautiful on top. Perfect for running my fingers through.
His beard looked thick and gorgeous. He’d grown it back. Beautiful.
His hypnotic deep dark eyes drew me in. I could get lost in them for days.
His smile…
His lips…I remembered those lips all over my body. I wanted to kiss them right now…
And he had on those jeans. The delicious dark blue jeans he had worn the morning after the night before…
He was wearing a jacket, but he had a fitted jumper on underneath, and I could see the outline of his taut, firm, sexy chest…
One drink? Keeping myself out of trouble? Fat chance. I was going to need an entire army to stop me from wanting to jump his bones right now.
Please, God. Give me all the strength you can.
Something tells me I am about to sin…
Chapter Thirty-Six
We sat down on the dark pleather seats at a table by the window. Even though he was opposite me, I still couldn’t quite believe he was here.
God, he was so beautiful. His olive skin was glowing. Flecks of grey were sprinkled through his beard and hair. I freaking loved salt-and-pepper hair on a man. Even his laughter lines were bloody gorgeous. I could literally stare at him all day.
Now I remembered why I had to recite those boring sports, to keep my emotions under control.
Fuck snooker, darts, golf and whatever bollocks I’d chanted in my head before. I’d waited so long to see him again and I wasn’t about to suppress it. I was going to flirt my arse off and let him know exactly how I felt. I never even thought we’d meet again, so what did I have to lose?
Ahem. According to you, Sophia, sanity and self-respect…
Button it, Reasanna.
‘So, tell me about your new job,’ I asked, leaning in and tilting my head a little. ‘How did you get it?’
‘Well, I looked on the internet for good Italian restaurants in London,’ he replied in his thick, sexy Italian accent. ‘I picked four and looked on Facebook to see who I liked and looked at their websites. Then I found the email addresses for the head chefs, sent my CV and asked for a job. I liked the head chef at Polignano. He said I could come for a trial. I have to pay for the flight and hotel myself, so it is a risk…’
I nodded, desperately trying to focus on listening to him rather than imagining his hands all over me.
‘But I was confident. The chef sounded interested, so I took the chance, and he liked my cooking. I am excited.’
‘That’s amazing, Lorenzo,’ I said, bringing myself out of my fantasy and back to reality. ‘I’m so happy for you.’
‘I say thanks to you too, as is it was you that made me think about coming to London.’ He flashed his infectious smile at me again. ‘I worked before in LA and Singapore, but never in London. It is a good idea. I have already learnt new things to take back home. I like it. And you?’ he asked. ‘What you do here in London, Sophia, for work?’
‘Oh, I work in PR,’ I replied casually. He didn’t need to know the ins and outs of my business at this stage.
‘What is that?’ he asked, frowning.
‘Public relations. Basically, we promote hair and beauty companies—you know, skincare products—face creams, make-up, hairdressers…that kind of thing,’ I said, gesturing cutting hair and rubbing imaginary moisturiser into my skin like I was playing a game of charades. ‘We get them in the magazines so that people know about them and buy their products or visit their salons.’
‘Ah, yes, I see!’ he said excitedly. ‘Like advertisements. You make them?’
‘Hmm…sort of.…I’ll show you one day,’ I said. It was hard enough explaining PR to my mum, never mind an Italian chef.
The waiter came over to our table and asked what we’d like to drink. Thank God we didn’t have to get up and go to the bar to order, as I wanted to stare at this man without interrupt
ion for as long as possible.
‘I’ll have a gin and tonic, please,’ I replied. ‘Lorenzo?’
‘Good choice, Sophia,’ he said, smiling again. ‘I will have the same, thanks.’
The waiter nodded, then headed back to the bar.
‘So you said you reckon—sorry, you think you’ll be here for around two months?’ I asked, trying once again to play it cool.
‘Not sure. When you join this restaurant, the chef likes you to stay a long time,’ he said, switching on his serious face. ‘If I told him I stay for only two months, he may not agree to take me because it is a lot of work to train someone and then they leave.’
‘Yes, I can understand that,’ I agreed.
‘I will stay for as long as possible, but I must be back for the Taste Holidays season next year, which starts in February or March. I will wait to see when I am booked. We are now in December, so maybe I stay this month, January and perhaps February. I will see how I like it. And if there is another reason to stay in London…’ he said, flashing a flirty smile.
We sat there mute for a few seconds, just staring at one another. Then he broke the silence.
‘You are a beautiful woman, Sophia,’ he said. ‘I remembered you were beautiful, but not like this. You are very, very sexy…’
I may have just wet my knickers.
Of course I actually hadn’t, but if he carried on like this, I just might…
Our eyes locked again and we said nothing. Just gazed. I knew what I was thinking. I hoped he was thinking the same.
How long had we been here? I’d look at my phone, but that would involve not staring into his eyes for a full two seconds, and right now, that was just too long.
I reckoned we’d been here about fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty? So, how long do you think is reasonable to wait before suggesting we leave this bar and head back to his place? Is twenty-five minutes too soon? Would that be considered too slutty or desperate?
Okay. Forty-five minutes. If I really, really tried, I could hang on for another twenty-five minutes. Just…
An hour? Seriously, Reasanna. That’s pushing it. I mean, it’s not like we’ve just met. Technically, I’ve known him for eight months. That’s the equivalent to two centuries in this fast-paced, new-age dating world.
Furthermore, think about it: if that weekend in Florence had gone to plan, there would be zero waiting. We would have met and got straight down to it. So why torture myself? You only live once, right? If I see something I want, I have to go for it.
The waiter brought over our drinks. Lorenzo sadly had to break our gaze as the waiter put the bill down on the table.
I reached in my bag for my purse. I should at least offer to go Dutch.
‘No, no. I will pay,’ he insisted as he reached into his pocket, took out his beaten black leather wallet, slipped out his card and handed it to the waiter. Once he’d tapped it on the contactless reader, he turned back to me and gave me a sexy smile. Oh, I loved his smile.
I took a large gulp of my drink. He mirrored this. And then, holy crap.
He just licked his lips.
Oh my goodness. Just like in Italy, it sent me crazy. My heart was beating so fast and I could already feel the tingles of anticipation between my legs…
I took another giant gulp of my drink. I couldn’t wait any longer. Who was I trying to prove something to or impress? This was my life. I didn’t care what people thought. I answered to myself. And tonight, I was going to do what I damn well pleased.
‘So, Lorenzo,’ I said, doing my tilty head seduction move. ‘What did you say your place is like?’
‘It is small,’ he said, pushing his hands together with a tiny gap in between to indicate the miniature size. ‘It is, how do you say? Studio? Bedroom, kitchen and sofa in one room. Then there is a little bathroom with a shower and toilet. But I like.’
‘Shoreditch isn’t that far from here in a taxi,’ I said, part asking, part making a statement. ‘How would you like to show it to me?’
Yep, bring on the head tilting, eyelash fluttering and sexy smiling. I placed my hands on top of his, which were resting on the wooden table, and started stroking them gently.
‘Mmm, mmm,’ he said, smiling, receiving my I want you, now message loud and clear. ‘I like very much to show you my place. You want to go tonight?’ he asked.
I glanced at my phone: 19.07. Not bad. I’d held out for thirty-seven minutes. No, no. Never mind the fact that we hadn’t sat down at the table until 18.40ish. That didn’t matter.
‘I would love very much to go tonight,’ I confirmed. ‘Why don’t we go now?’ I suggested as I seductively licked my red lips.
‘Now?’ he said, clearly surprised at my boldness. ‘Mmm. Sophia, I like this idea very much.’
He downed his drink in one, slamming the glass on the table, and I did the same. We pushed our chairs back and stood up, all the while transfixed on each other, then rushed towards the door.
There was a crowd of people outside smoking, and once we’d navigated through them, I looked left, then right along the roadside to hail down a black cab. Perfect. One indicated and pulled over.
‘What’s the name of the road you live on, Lorenzo?’ I asked as I opened the door of the taxi and climbed in.
‘Hanford Street,’ he replied, getting in after me, his eyes fixated on my bum.
‘Hanford Street,’ I said to the driver. ‘As quick as you can, please!’ The driver glanced in his rear-view mirror and smiled. I think somehow he could sense the sexual tension and knew precisely why we were in a hurry…
I’d barely fastened my seat belt before Lorenzo’s lips were planted firmly on mine and he’d started to kiss me.
Oh yes. Now that’s what I’m talking about…
He began thrusting his tongue in my mouth, and he tasted delicious. Just like in Tuscany, Lorenzo kissed me like his life depended on it.
He couldn’t have been worried about safety as by now he’d unfastened his seat belt and half of his body was pressed against mine, whilst his left hand made its way up my thigh with a sense of urgency, until…
Ohhhhh…
He’d pulled the front of my thong to one side, allowing his fingers full access to what lay beneath. With everything exactly how I wanted it to be down there, this time there was no need for him to hold back.
He started stroking inbetween my legs, sending me out of my fucking mind…
How much longer until we arrived? I didn’t think I could stop myself. I wanted this man inside me.
‘Oh, Lorenzo, stop,’ I groaned. But it felt so good I didn’t want him to. ‘Actually, no. Don’t stop. Oh my God. I want you,’ I muttered in his ear as his face brushed against mine. ‘I need you. Now!’
He eased his lips away from my neck. ‘You want do here?’ he asked. ‘In taxi?’ He grinned. ‘You naughty girl. I like.’ And with that, he resumed nibbling my neck, then my ear as his hands continued caressing me.
I opened my eyes, reluctantly. Okay, we’d just passed Liverpool Street station. Couldn’t be much further. I might just be able to hang on for another five minutes…I know I’m in a liberal mood, but not sure I’m up for sex in a taxi just yet…
The cab slowed down and pulled up outside a warehouse type building.
‘We’re here,’ the driver shouted, guessing correctly that with all the slurping and moaning noises we were making in the back seat, we wouldn’t hear him otherwise.
I popped open my purse and gave him a twenty-pound note through the passenger window. Fuck the change. Fuck the receipt. I had more pressing issues to attend to.
As Lorenzo opened the taxi door with his back to me, I crouched behind him, shamelessly running my hands over his firm chest and then downwards…
The minute he opened the front door of his flat, it was like a love scene from a film. It had barely closed before clothes began being tossed in the air and landing in a heap on the floor. First his jacket, then his jumper…
Oh, his chest! Al
l hairy and gorgeous, and he was still in amazing shape. He started unbuckling the belt on his jeans, staring at me with excitement and desire.
Lorenzo unzipped my dress, threw it on the floor, scooped me up in his muscular arms and carried me to the edge of his double bed. He unfastened my bra, gently pushed me backwards, then straddled me.
Working down from my ears to my neck, shoulders and my erect nipples, he showered me with sweet kisses, lingering over my stomach then sliding his tongue around my belly button. As his mouth moved further south, I could feel his hot sweet breath tickling my skin. He was teasing me, and my body was groaning with excitement. I knew exactly where I wanted him to touch me next…
Lorenzo unpeeled my red thong, tossing it over his shoulder, leaving me completely naked. This time, I was proud to have it all on display for him. A wicked grin flashed across his face.
‘Mmmm,’ he said, licking his lips. ‘Even more beautiful than I remember.’
My body trembled as he began licking from my knees, then up along my inner thighs. As he travelled further and further north, I started to tense a little. I couldn’t wait to have his mouth on me, but would I taste okay to him? I’d had a shower before I’d left the office, so hopefully I should be fine, but…
‘Beautiful, Sophia,’ he said, clearly sensing that I’d lost focus for a second, ‘relax. Let me give you pleasure. Open your legs fully for me, please.’
I didn’t hesitate.
He buried his head enthusiastically between my thighs before using both of his hands to spread my lips and gently kissed inside. Turning his attention to my clit, he started sucking it softly, then began slowly flicking his tongue: first up and down, with a short pause in between.
‘Mmm, Sophia,’ he said, looking up at me and licking his lips. ‘You taste so good.’
The Middle-Aged Virgin: A Chick Lit, Romantic Comedy Novel: Newly Single And Seeking Spine-Tingles... Page 30
