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“Titus,” she whispers, cupping my face and kissing me.
We move together, her skin glowing and slightly damp from the warmth, her face and neck filled with the subtle blush of sexual arousal. Fuck, that’s sexy, and it makes me push up inside her, and she moans and arches her back.
“You’re so beautiful,” I tell, beginning to lose it. I stroke my hands down her back, then bring one around her waist and slide my thumb down between us until I find her clit. She’s moist and swollen, and as I circle my thumb over the tiny button, she moans and delves her tongue into my mouth.
“I love doing this with you,” she whispers, rocking her hips.
“I could do this with you every day for years and never get bored,” I reply truthfully. There’s something about this girl that just fills me with joy. I can’t put my finger on it. I’ve known more beautiful girls. Women who are more confident, more intelligent. But she brings it all together in one package, and it’s created this gorgeous, sexy, funny young woman who rings all my bells.
“Ah, Titus,” she murmurs, “I wish…” She kisses me, still moving, her breath hitching.
“What?” I ask, but she shakes her head, closes her eyes, and bites her bottom lip, and I watch pleasure sweep over her, sweet and golden as the rays of the sun. She cries out, clamping around me, and that proves my undoing. My climax hits me seconds later, and the two of us lock together, like the statue of two lovers, frozen at the height of passion for eternity.
Chapter Nineteen
Heidi
At six thirty, Alan and Vicky arrive to take us out for dinner. We drive a few miles into the English countryside, and Alan pulls up outside a building with a thatched roof and white cob walls, with a sign hanging out the front that says, “The Green Man”.
“It dates back to 825AD,” he tells us as we get out. “It was originally a nunnery and a farm, and it’s in the Domesday Book.”
It goes back to the time of William the Conqueror? “Wow.” I’m thrilled, and I can see that Titus is genuinely impressed.
“It’s supposed to have a couple of ghosts, too,” Vicky teases as we go inside.
“Even better.”
The long bar that spans the length of the room is made from solid English oak, and blackened beams run along the ceiling and down the walls, filled in with cob. One wall contains a beautiful stained-glass window, which Alan tells us is an original from the fourteenth century.
Rectangular tables with high-backed chairs fill the restaurant section, and we’re shown to a reserved table. Titus sits next to me. He looks gorgeous tonight. He’s wearing black jeans and a plum-colored dress shirt with a lighter plum color pattern on the front placket and the inside of the collar and cuffs that he’s rolled up a couple of times.
I think I’m a little bit in love with you, Heidi Rose Huxley, he told me, and I returned the sentiment, but I know now it wasn’t true. I’m not a little bit in love. I’m completely and wholly in love with this guy.
I know it’s not real love—it’s like a snowflake, or a bubble—insubstantial and fleeting. I know it’s not enough to build a future on. And I know I can’t give everything up for him. I know, I know, I know… It’s a holiday fling, a crush. That’s all.
But I’m still shocked at the intensity of the emotion I’m feeling. When he looks at me, it’s as if I’ve touched a live wire, and it makes everything seem to swell inside me—my heart, my lungs, my… other bits. Especially my other bits. All the time he’s around, I’ve got sex on the brain. He was only inside me half an hour ago, and I’m already thinking about the next time we’re going to make love… although that might have something to do with what’s happening under the table. I’m wearing a short skirt, and he rests his hand on my knee, then slides it up a few inches so it’s warm on my thigh, his fingers drawing light circles on my skin. I glance at him, but he’s talking to Alan, so I don’t even think he’s aware he’s doing it.
I don’t know why he has such an effect on me. Jason never reduced me to mush like this. In fact, no other man has ever made me feel this way. It’s as if I thought I liked chocolate, but I’ve just discovered that I’ve only ever eaten plain bars, and suddenly I’ve been presented with a box of the most sumptuous truffles in the world, full of all kinds of flavors that burst on the tongue.
And now I’m thinking about covering him in melted chocolate and sucking it all off, and I’m back to sex again.
“Heidi?” Vicky asks, snapping my attention back to the present. A waiter is standing by the table, and they’re all looking at me.
“What do you want to drink?” Titus asks softly, his eyes sparkling. I know then that he’s well aware of what he’s doing beneath the table, and the effect it’s having on me. I nudge his knee with mine, and he squeezes my thigh.
“I’ll have a half of the local cider, please,” I say, spotting it on tap.
“I’d like to try a beer,” Titus says to Alan. “What do you recommend?”
“If you prefer a cold beer, you’d be better off with lager. The ales are served at room temperature here.”
“I usually drink lager, but I’d be happy to try a draught ale.”
“How about a Spitting Feathers bitter? It’s from a local microbrewery, and I think it’s one of the best local beers.”
“Sounds great. I’ll have a pint of that,” Titus says, and the waiter nods and goes off with our order. “Spitting Feathers?” Titus says, amused. “Does it make you angry, then?”
“Here it also means thirsty,” I tell him. “In Shakespeare’s Henry IV, Falstaff says ‘I brandish any thing but a bottle, I would I might never spit white again.’ I think it’s from that.” My face warms at his smile. “More useless information,” I add.
