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All that is important right now is this beautiful woman before me.
I watch her intently, and she bites her lip at the intensity of my heated gaze.
I’ve never wanted anything as bad as I want her right now.
I assess her beautiful frame. I tower over her, of course, because of my six three frame. She’s not overly tall, but her hourglass figure has had me hard all night.
My eyes dip to her tits and groan. Knowing she’s responsive to my touching and sucking her breasts gives me instant gratification, because it’s something I can’t get enough of when I’m with a woman. She’s naturally blessed with two decent handfuls. I forgot what real breasts feel like. I did pay for Keira’s, after all, and I can safely say, my dick is leaking at the sight and feel of Hartley’s.
“The pearls are a nice touch,” I say, as I place my wallet down on the counter and shrug out of my suit jacket, placing it on one of the high-backed dining chairs. I let my tie hang loosely around my neck as I unbutton the first couple of buttons on my shirt. “They suit you.”
She smiles, pressing her lips together. “They were my grandmother’s. She left them for me when she died.”
I walk over to her in the expansive room. She appears almost shy as she stands there.
Quite the contrast to the position we were just in outside.
“I’m sorry to hear about your grandmother,” I say. “But they do look good on you.” I scan her over and touch her chin with my hand. “Are you okay?”
She nods. “I’m fine. I’m just not used to doing this kind of thing.”
“Well, nothing’s gonna happen that you don’t want to,” I tell her. “It’s been a while for me, too. Like I said, I haven’t slept with anyone since my wife, and it was over more months than I care to remember.”
She stares at me with wide eyes.
Fuck. Maybe I haven’t told her that.
Cat’s out of the bag now.
“You haven’t slept with anyone since you split with her?”
“Nope,” I say. “I guess I plunged myself into work and all the other shit that goes with getting divorced.”
And I lacked the time, inclination, or energy, until now…
She’s making me feel all kinds of things I didn’t know I could feel again.
It occurs to me in the back of my mind, there’s a billion other things I should be doing because I’m a workaholic. I’m often up late at night doing emails and other shit that could probably wait until morning. But I’ve done that to keep my mind busy from everything else going on.
I have a lot on my plate. But tonight, I’m not worrying about that.
Being here with Hartley is something else, and a world away from my usual world. She’s an unexpected, but very welcome, surprise.
I can’t help but feel that she deserves another orgasm before I fuck her properly.
I want to do it all in case we never cross paths again. And it’s unlikely we will because we live in different places and we’re both busy people. In saying that, I already know I’m going to ask for her number before she leaves.
“It’s been a while for me too,” she whispers, placing her purse down on the side bench under a huge gold embossed ornate mirror which takes up most of the wall.
It’s all cool marble and dark, sleek lines in the penthouse. Kind of masculine, which is probably why I like it. A massive crystal chandelier hangs above us and softens the tone a little. I like that it adds a little sparkle, much like Hartley standing here before me in her grandmother’s pearls. She adds more sparkle than I’ve seen in a while.
“How long?” I cock my head on one side, knowing she may not answer the question, but she’s been pretty forthcoming about everything else. Including trying to prove herself to her father.
It seems he favors her brother over her, though we never got into specifics of what we do out in the world. I want to know what business she’s involved in. I really want to know more about her, but that falls under the 'specifics' thing we discussed at the table mix up.
Now I couldn’t be gladder. And I plan on it being memorable. I want to leave an imprint inside her head, and a lasting impression on her body, that I was here. This thing between us was real. And my attraction to her is off the charts.
She’s well aware of the latter part by now, if my raging hard on is anything to go by. I still can’t contain it.
