Read Online Instruction in Seduction by Judy Jarvie - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Judy Jarvie
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tails?”
He stopped to click on a fancy coffee machine that bleeped and seconds later the air was full of fresh java aroma. Then he kicked off his loafers with a smile. His grey and yellow toed socks made her smile.
“Hence why chic hotel owners want you.”
“Chic hotel owners suffer from the credit crunch as much as everybody. Thankfully I can make empty rooms an opportunity rather than a cash flow crisis. At the end of the day my company is about high end branding and endorsement. Plus I’m select enough to bring some very exclusive and wealthy names to these hotels and that brings caché. My company’s a brand stamp hotels and select locations want. That could all change at any time, of course.”
Wow. What a guy.
Ailsa looked around, took in the room was little short of splendour. There were big spongy sofas and an enormous maxi-fun-sized bed visible through the doorway. He may play it down all he liked, but this man wasn’t just doing well. He was leagues of success out of her reach.
“Nick, there’s something you should know.”
Her abdomen may have started to swell like a washing machine on the slow warm rinse programme but she wanted to tell it to stop. It was no doubt at Nick’s seductive tones. But really this wasn’t what she was comfortable with. No matter how hot the partner. He needed the facts; she had to be straight.
“I’m not as free and wild and loose and easy as I suggested,” she confided.
Nick just watched her. As weird electrical charges started off in her veins and coursed around her body pumping their energy to parts of her long neglected and in need of playtime. But now was not their prized moment to clamour for kicks.
Ailsa glanced yet again at the football pitch-sized bed under spotlights. It was practically shouting 'Hope you like performing floodlit.'
Ailsa gulped, “Look Nick. It’s been a lovely evening but I’m not that kinda girl. I’m not sassy, I’m not strident. I was faking a lie.” She gulped then ran on, unable to stop. “I like you a lot. I fancied you so very badly years ago but there’s no getting around this just isn’t me. I’m leagues away from Sofa Girl in real life.” She’d opened up a dam now. And it was threatening a gush of explanation and woe betide anyone who wanted to stem the flow. “When I wear stockings I ladder them. Spike heels don’t suit me, I trip. When I try sexy underwear I feel like I’m playing dress up. I’m a flirtation fraud. I only asked you to sleep with me to try and break out of my boring mould. When push comes to shove I can’t do it.”
He gave her a solemn devastating look. Nick cleared his throat and then he pulled her to him. Pulled her so hard she sat right on top of his lap on the sofa.
Their noses were no more than half an inch apart. His breathing in such close proximity did sensational things to her insides. Hot meltdown inducing things.
“Don’t talk. Or make excuses. Or tell me you can’t. Just kiss me like you did last night. Imagine it’s the only time we’ll ever get to do it again.”
His eyes speared hers.
Suddenly she wanted to kiss. She wanted to kiss passionately and crazily and let her fingers and her tongue go wild as she undressed them both with abandon.
His lips met hers briefly. Gently. Tiny butterfly touches as they’d both shut their eyes and gently explored the sacred art of that one special kiss. It was a sensory exploration that inflamed but also tantalised and soothed long neglected impulses.
Nick sat back. “You can’t possibly know you can’t do it until you try. And that’s not a line to get you into my bed. You’re way too hard on yourself. This isn’t something I can walk away from quite so easily.” Nick reached out to touch her face. His fingers brushing torch heat as he did. “Walk away if you really don’t feel something amazing. One more kiss and give me your best shot.”
She did.
She pushed her mouth to his and let her lips entice him. Let her
He stopped to click on a fancy coffee machine that bleeped and seconds later the air was full of fresh java aroma. Then he kicked off his loafers with a smile. His grey and yellow toed socks made her smile.
“Hence why chic hotel owners want you.”
“Chic hotel owners suffer from the credit crunch as much as everybody. Thankfully I can make empty rooms an opportunity rather than a cash flow crisis. At the end of the day my company is about high end branding and endorsement. Plus I’m select enough to bring some very exclusive and wealthy names to these hotels and that brings caché. My company’s a brand stamp hotels and select locations want. That could all change at any time, of course.”
Wow. What a guy.
Ailsa looked around, took in the room was little short of splendour. There were big spongy sofas and an enormous maxi-fun-sized bed visible through the doorway. He may play it down all he liked, but this man wasn’t just doing well. He was leagues of success out of her reach.
“Nick, there’s something you should know.”
Her abdomen may have started to swell like a washing machine on the slow warm rinse programme but she wanted to tell it to stop. It was no doubt at Nick’s seductive tones. But really this wasn’t what she was comfortable with. No matter how hot the partner. He needed the facts; she had to be straight.
“I’m not as free and wild and loose and easy as I suggested,” she confided.
Nick just watched her. As weird electrical charges started off in her veins and coursed around her body pumping their energy to parts of her long neglected and in need of playtime. But now was not their prized moment to clamour for kicks.
Ailsa glanced yet again at the football pitch-sized bed under spotlights. It was practically shouting 'Hope you like performing floodlit.'
Ailsa gulped, “Look Nick. It’s been a lovely evening but I’m not that kinda girl. I’m not sassy, I’m not strident. I was faking a lie.” She gulped then ran on, unable to stop. “I like you a lot. I fancied you so very badly years ago but there’s no getting around this just isn’t me. I’m leagues away from Sofa Girl in real life.” She’d opened up a dam now. And it was threatening a gush of explanation and woe betide anyone who wanted to stem the flow. “When I wear stockings I ladder them. Spike heels don’t suit me, I trip. When I try sexy underwear I feel like I’m playing dress up. I’m a flirtation fraud. I only asked you to sleep with me to try and break out of my boring mould. When push comes to shove I can’t do it.”
He gave her a solemn devastating look. Nick cleared his throat and then he pulled her to him. Pulled her so hard she sat right on top of his lap on the sofa.
Their noses were no more than half an inch apart. His breathing in such close proximity did sensational things to her insides. Hot meltdown inducing things.
“Don’t talk. Or make excuses. Or tell me you can’t. Just kiss me like you did last night. Imagine it’s the only time we’ll ever get to do it again.”
His eyes speared hers.
Suddenly she wanted to kiss. She wanted to kiss passionately and crazily and let her fingers and her tongue go wild as she undressed them both with abandon.
His lips met hers briefly. Gently. Tiny butterfly touches as they’d both shut their eyes and gently explored the sacred art of that one special kiss. It was a sensory exploration that inflamed but also tantalised and soothed long neglected impulses.
Nick sat back. “You can’t possibly know you can’t do it until you try. And that’s not a line to get you into my bed. You’re way too hard on yourself. This isn’t something I can walk away from quite so easily.” Nick reached out to touch her face. His fingers brushing torch heat as he did. “Walk away if you really don’t feel something amazing. One more kiss and give me your best shot.”
She did.
She pushed her mouth to his and let her lips entice him. Let her
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