dinner making small talk, learning more about each other. The sexual tension between us never left, just simmered, steadily bubbling just under the surface.
I learned he was obsessed with rugby and watched it on the ‘telly’ late into the evenings. He preferred live games but they were few and far between in the States.
I shared my affliction for sexy shoes, colorful fabrics and my love of anything handmade and artistic. He seemed to appreciate that most, asking questions about things I mentioned and wondering what museums I preferred.
“Why do you do what you do?” he asked out of the blue.
“What do you mean? Interior design?”
He nodded.
“Well, it seemed to fit. I’ve always had a knack for entering someone’s home and intuitively knowing how the furniture should be re-arranged to maximize space. Colors and textures are fun to play off one another but the real fun…“
His eyes twinkled as he focused intently on me.
“The real fun is learning what it is people need in their life besides the design. If the home needs the new look, usually it’s the man, woman or couple that needs the resurfacing.”
“How so?” He took my hand and made endless infinity doodles on the top and wrist.
God he’s sexy.
“People have an innate inability to not do right by themselves. Sure, there are egotistical people out in the world who are very ‘what’s in it for me,’ but usually they’re hiding their insecurity over something else. Sometimes a person stays at a job for the money, not for the love of the work. It depends on the person.”
“So you move into their flat to learn about them personally along with their likes and dislikes for the design aspect?”
I nodded eagerly. “Exactly. When I move in with them, I have an ‘in the trenches view’ of how they live their life, what makes them tick, what hurts them, what heals them. I work with them to see those things themselves and make the required changes. On top of that, I give them a new look and feel on their home. Kind of like stepping into a new world, or at least a new lease on life.”
“That’s blooming incredible. The way you see things is fascinating.” His head shook but his eyes blazed with intensity. He licked his lips and bit down on the plump flesh.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to let his emotions trace over my senses.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” I placed my napkin over my plate signifying that I was ready to leave, take this party somewhere more private. He’d been sending me sex-laced vibes all evening. I’d had enough.
When he’d paid the check and we stood, a brief moment of uncertainty came over me. This was the point where we moved forward or turned back. I’d wanted him to make that choice, not let my over-sexed mind make that decision. He led me to the street and handed his ticket to the valet.
I stood clutching my handbag and looked around, not sure what he intended. Would he take me home or want to go to his place? I knew I hadn’t read him wrong. The man wanted me. The bulge in his pants through most of dinner confirmed it.
Two hands came around my waist from behind and he pulled me back against his solid chest. “Penny for your thoughts, my Beauty.” His nickname for me was sweet. I found I rather enjoyed it, made me feel special somehow. Besides Tripp, the only other man who had ever given me an intimate pet name was James.
James. I pushed the thought of him to the furthest recesses of my mind. Nothing good would come of bringing up that wound now--especially when I was about to get me some of a hot Englishman.
“Just wondering what happens next?” My voice was smooth and strong, hiding the fact that I was actually somewhat nervous he’d reject me.
“We go back to my place where I plan to shag you for hours. Then I’ll make you breakfast come sun up.” He gripped me against him, my back to his front. The steel of his erection pressed against the heat of my ass.
“And what if I
I learned he was obsessed with rugby and watched it on the ‘telly’ late into the evenings. He preferred live games but they were few and far between in the States.
I shared my affliction for sexy shoes, colorful fabrics and my love of anything handmade and artistic. He seemed to appreciate that most, asking questions about things I mentioned and wondering what museums I preferred.
“Why do you do what you do?” he asked out of the blue.
“What do you mean? Interior design?”
He nodded.
“Well, it seemed to fit. I’ve always had a knack for entering someone’s home and intuitively knowing how the furniture should be re-arranged to maximize space. Colors and textures are fun to play off one another but the real fun…“
His eyes twinkled as he focused intently on me.
“The real fun is learning what it is people need in their life besides the design. If the home needs the new look, usually it’s the man, woman or couple that needs the resurfacing.”
“How so?” He took my hand and made endless infinity doodles on the top and wrist.
God he’s sexy.
“People have an innate inability to not do right by themselves. Sure, there are egotistical people out in the world who are very ‘what’s in it for me,’ but usually they’re hiding their insecurity over something else. Sometimes a person stays at a job for the money, not for the love of the work. It depends on the person.”
“So you move into their flat to learn about them personally along with their likes and dislikes for the design aspect?”
I nodded eagerly. “Exactly. When I move in with them, I have an ‘in the trenches view’ of how they live their life, what makes them tick, what hurts them, what heals them. I work with them to see those things themselves and make the required changes. On top of that, I give them a new look and feel on their home. Kind of like stepping into a new world, or at least a new lease on life.”
“That’s blooming incredible. The way you see things is fascinating.” His head shook but his eyes blazed with intensity. He licked his lips and bit down on the plump flesh.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to let his emotions trace over my senses.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” I placed my napkin over my plate signifying that I was ready to leave, take this party somewhere more private. He’d been sending me sex-laced vibes all evening. I’d had enough.
When he’d paid the check and we stood, a brief moment of uncertainty came over me. This was the point where we moved forward or turned back. I’d wanted him to make that choice, not let my over-sexed mind make that decision. He led me to the street and handed his ticket to the valet.
I stood clutching my handbag and looked around, not sure what he intended. Would he take me home or want to go to his place? I knew I hadn’t read him wrong. The man wanted me. The bulge in his pants through most of dinner confirmed it.
Two hands came around my waist from behind and he pulled me back against his solid chest. “Penny for your thoughts, my Beauty.” His nickname for me was sweet. I found I rather enjoyed it, made me feel special somehow. Besides Tripp, the only other man who had ever given me an intimate pet name was James.
James. I pushed the thought of him to the furthest recesses of my mind. Nothing good would come of bringing up that wound now--especially when I was about to get me some of a hot Englishman.
“Just wondering what happens next?” My voice was smooth and strong, hiding the fact that I was actually somewhat nervous he’d reject me.
“We go back to my place where I plan to shag you for hours. Then I’ll make you breakfast come sun up.” He gripped me against him, my back to his front. The steel of his erection pressed against the heat of my ass.
“And what if I
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