Copyright © 2006 Sarah Dobbs
All rights reserved, Freya's Bower.
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Harriet's neck tingled when John pushed his fingers into her hair, thumb grazing her cheek. A sparkle kiss. She hadn't had a sparkle kiss since Richard. When they finally parted, Harriet rolled her lips inwards, as if to remember the taste. She suddenly found the cream throw thoroughly absorbing. Anything rather than look into those eyes. If she looked up, she couldn't be held responsible for her actions - which would include: tearing off his clothes stripper-style and wrapping her legs around him like a monkey on a tree in a hurricane.
"I've been wanting to do that all week you know? You make me feel giddy. But I wouldn't... God, a salesman tongue-tied. Do you see what you're doing to me?"
Oh I'm not doing anything yet, mate. "What do you mean?"
"I'm just trying to say, I think we could be good together and I wouldn't want to rush things."
Bastard. Now I have to sleep with him.
* * *
"Are you sure?"
Harriet got up off the couch and grabbed John's tie. The look in his eyes gave her the confidence to give him the I-Want-You gaze.
"God, you're gorgeous. What are you doing in Manchester?"
She tapped his nose with her finger. "Seducing you."
He laughed. "Well, you belong somewhere glamorous, like Milan or Paris."
"What can I say, I like the rain? And I'm a sucker for tongue-tied salesmen, particularly when I'm responsible for the tying up." She tugged on the tie, thinking of all the other things she could do with it. John stood, towering over her despite her boots. She placed one palm on his chest. Let it run downwards, over his stomach, towards his belt.
Bumpy? Could it be...?
Harriet did it again.
Finally, a man with actual pecs. This should be good.
Harriet's heart raced faster. She'd never had a one-night stand and the logical part of her brain was winking red: Caution! Situation I will regret imminent. John could just be saying all the right things. It didn't mean she would ever see him again.
But her body wouldn't listen. And that was part of the thrill. She loosened the silver tie, keeping John's eyes. They seemed to glitter darkly with lust, entranced with her taking command. He seemed confident enough to let her do it all. But Harriet knew it wouldn't be too long before John took over.
For now, she was happy to do the work.
Harriet undid his shirt buttons. She parted the black fabric to reveal a chest that belonged in a music video.
"Jesus."
He raised one eyebrow. "What?"
She looked at him sideways. "Like you don't know." Harriet slipped the shirt off John's powerful shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She took a step back, looked up at John briefly, and raised her own top over her head. That joined John's shirt on the floor. She breathed in nervously as his eyes took in her body. She reached up and unpinned her hair, but the clip snagged. Coffee Girl's attempt to seduce Model Man? Failed. She tried to rip it out, without showing how much it hurt.
John reached behind her and freed it easily. He ran the diamonte clip over her nose, the centre of her mouth, between her breasts. It gently nicked her bare skin.
"Everyone in that restaurant was looking at you," he murmured. "I can't believe you're here with me."
Knees weakening! Was the guy wearing an ear-piece, getting fed great chat-up, skirt-down lines from his own personal Cupid, or what?
John's fingers found their place in the niche between Harriet's ribs and hips. He guided her towards him, and she suddenly felt intensely shy. She fed herself some lines: Keep going girl. You can do it. Do it for the pecs! Biting her lip, she took John's tie and pulled it over her own head. He shook his head and cupped her face in both hands. Again, that perfect kiss. Her nipples hardened, brushing lightly against his smooth chest.
"I'm never going to get these boots off," she whispered.
"You'll have to leave them on then, won't you?"