Read Online The Indifference League by Richard Scarsbrook - Free Book Online

damp hair, then took another sip of that delicious coffee.
    â€œI wanted to watch you undress. Rather badly , actually. But you asked me not to. So I didn’t.”
    â€œWow,” she said. “A real gentleman.”
    Did that come out sounding sarcastic? She hadn’t meant it to.
    â€œIf we’re going to have a relationship,” he said, “I want you to know that you can trust me.”
    â€œA relationship?” she scoffed.
    She hadn’t meant to scoff, either.
    â€œI’ve travelled a lot of places,” he said, “and I’ve seen a lot of things. And this sort of thing doesn’t happen every day.”
    â€œWhat sort of thing? Two people randomly sitting beside each other in a Chinese noodle joint?”
    â€œNothing in life is random,” said The Drifter. “Life brings you exactly what you need, if you let it. The trick is not wanting what you don’t need, and recognizing what you need when it shows up.”
    â€œWow. Nice line.”
    â€œIt’s not a line. It’s what I believe.”
    â€œYou can undress me now if you want to,” she said, raising her arms in the air so he could more easily lift off her top.
    â€œI’d rather wait.”
    â€œYou’d rather wait ? You are a human male , aren’t you?”
    â€œOh yes,” he says, “I am a human male. And it hasn’t escaped my notice that you have a terrific body.”
    â€œI was dressed like a frump at the noodle house, and my pajamas make me look like a monster Muppet. So how do you know I have a terrific body ? ”
    â€œYou asked me to look away while you changed your clothes. You didn’t say I couldn’t watch your reflection in the window.”
    She felt strangely shy, wanting to burrow under the sheets and hide. At the same time, she wanted him to rip her pajamas off, to ravage her, to lick and kiss her skin, to grab and hold every curve and contour that would fit into his large hands. But she also wanted to just sit here beside him, still and silent, and watch him sip her coffee. She wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted, but she knew that she wanted .
    â€œThe window is pretty dirty. I didn’t see much of you,” he said. “Just enough.”
    The polarity of The Stunner’s magnetic power flip-flopped from positive to negative to positive to negative to positive again.
    â€œIt’s not just your body, you know,” he finally said. “You have an exquisite face. You have an intoxicating voice. You smell fantastic. You are maybe the sexiest woman I’ve ever met. You are absolutely stunning .”
    Stunning. She liked that. She’d been called hot, smokin’, wicked, sexy, foxy, and babe-licious , but nobody had ever described her as stunning . She liked it.
    The Drifter drained the last sip of coffee from the mug, quietly, without slurping. She liked that, too.
    â€œThis really is the best coffee I’ve ever had,” he said. “And I’ve had a lot of good coffee in my travels.”
    Her heart was racing again. Her cheeks were hot.
    â€œWould you like some more?”
    â€œI would.”
    She carried his cup to the tiny kitchenette, returned it to him full and steaming.
    â€œTell me about the places you’ve been,” she said.
    He did.
    He told her about trading two weeks labour knocking down walls in East London for the already-battered Norton Commando, and about all the places it took him from there: Birmingham, Liverpool, Dublin. To Paris, Bordeaux, and Marseilles. Through the Italian Riviera, around the Mediterranean Sea. Along the Blue Danube, into Prague and Vienna. Past the Black and Caspian and Aral Seas. Through Calcutta, Rangoon, to the Temple of Angkor Wat.
    The sound of The Drifter’s sandpaper voice scratching over the beautiful names of the places he’d seen made The Stunner want to push him back on the bed and straddle him, ride him until he couldn’t