He’d looked so handsome last night standing at the front door, suited and booted, as Kallie would say. And then later, he’d looked more like the devil as our eyes connected while he worked his dark magic between my legs. But this morning, with sun-kissed scruff covering his jaw, and his hair awry and screamingfreshly fucked,he looks more tempting that any man should.
I wonder if he often brings his work home?
It’s not a question of a moral dilemma, given his career, but more one of physical need. Nevertheless, it seems like a question he isn’t asking me to take seriously as he moves the conversation on.
‘I spoke to your friend, by the way. Kallie? She called.’
‘But if you live in the same building,’ I continue, still needing answers, ‘why didn’t you just leave me at Mo’s place?’
‘Because my bed is very comfortable.’ He says this as though it’s a completely reasonable reason. ‘And if we weren’t going to have sex, I was at least going to get a night of snuggling. I like to have somewhere to put my hands when I sleep. Plus, I didn’t want your death on my hands,’ he adds quickly. ‘Choking is a very real hazard for the vodka incapacitated.’
‘So you just wanted to get me naked.’ Suddenly remembering how I’d woken, I respond with a heap of snark in my tone.
‘I could’ve done that at Mo’s place. And let’s be honest, you were mostly naked well before that point. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at any table ever again, not without seeing you on it, back arched and crying out. And naked... so... naked.’
My gaping mouth snaps shut as Will’s attention turns to a large white bowl.
I’m not sure why or how, but I become sort of mesmerised by the movement of his elegant hands as he cracks a few eggs. I bite my lip as the cording of muscles in his forearms flex, the veins and prominent tendons standing to attention as he begins to whisk.
How can watching him make an omelette be erotic?
Three years without sex followed by last night, I suspect is the answer.
‘Earth to Sadie.’
‘What?’ I ask, rousing myself.
‘I asked if you were hungry.’ I nod, his question prompting my stomach to rumble as though on cue. ‘Where did you go just then? In your head.’
‘I was just thinking about’—those fingers between my legs— ‘all the women it must take to pay for this place. You must suffer terribly from chafe.’ Someone shoot me. Put me out of my misery, or at least glue my lips shut!
‘Thinking about medoingother women.’ Will shoots me a suggestive smile, reverting to type. ‘We must’ve cracked the seal last night, even if we didn’t get to fuck.’
I feel my cheeks heat and mumble something about it being too early for this sort of talk.Dirty talk.
‘And as for chaffing, as I recall,’ he continues, ignoring me, ‘when we got into the cab, my face was so wet from—’
‘Okay! I get the picture. You’re good at what you do.’ He’d have to be to afford this address. I squeal a little at the touch of something wet against my bare butt. ‘Oh, thank God, you brought Sir Lancelot!’ How could I have forgotten about him?
‘Brought him here, his spare bed, his bowl, and other doggy trappings.’ As though to prove a point, Sir L plods into the kitchen to begin slurping from his large water bowl.
‘H-how?’ And also, why?
‘I took the key from your purse. Someone had to look after him, and you were in no state to do so yourself.’
‘Thank you,’ I say sincerely. ‘I owe you big time.’
‘I don’t know about big time, but you owe me a blow job.’
‘Was Kallie’s credit card declined?’ I regret my words immediately as the smile slips from his face. ‘I-I’m sorry. That was mean. I meant it as a joke because come on; that must be how you see me, right?’ His smile hasn’t returned, and now he looks confused. ‘First, the man I went to meet doesn’t even remember me. And then I tell you I haven’t had sex in forever. I’d laugh at me, too.’
If I didn’t feel like crying suddenly.
‘You’re not a joke, Sadie. You’re actually rather lovely. And Julian’s a dick of the first order. Where’d you meet him anyway?’
‘How do you know we’ve met?’
‘He might’ve blanked you, but your face told a different story. My guess would be a drunk hook-up but for the whole self-inflicted chastity thing.’
