“Because I can be honest,” I continue, “and say I like you. A lot. And I want to see where this goes. But if it’s one-sided, I’ll respect that. We’ll go back to being colleagues. Friends, even. No awkwardness. I’d rather have you inanyway I can than not at all.”
For a long moment, she just looks at me — studying me, like she’s weighing whether to trust me with something precious.
Then, softly, she says, “I like you too.”
The relief that floods through me is almost dizzying. “You do?”
She nods, smiling through a small laugh. I grin, unable to stop myself — the kind of grin I haven’t worn since I was a teenager.
“Then we’ll figure it out,” I say. “You go for the residential job, I’ll have no say in it. No conflict of interest. At work, we’ll be colleagues. Outside of work…” I pause, my voice dipping lower. “Outside of work, I want to date you. And, bloody hell, I want to kiss you.”
Her breath hitches. “Okay.”
“Okay to which part?” I tease, my voice a little unsteady.
“All of it,” she says, her lips curving into that irresistible half-smile. “Now kiss me already.”
I don’t need to be told twice.
I pull her in and finally claim her mouth with mine. The kiss is slow at first — careful, searching — then deeper, hungrier, a dance of everything we’ve both been holding back. Her fingers slide through my hair, my hands find her waist, and the world narrows down to the warmth between us and the sound of our shared breath.
“Fuck,” I whisper against her lips, breathless. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
She laughs softly, her forehead resting against mine. “Yeah,” she murmurs, “I think I do.”
When she finally pulls back, the space between us feels too cold.
“Maybe we should head back,” she says gently.
“Of course,” I reply, trying not to sound disappointed. “I’ll get you a taxi.”
She hesitates — then smiles, slow and mischievous. “Actually, I thought we could head back together. Maybe have that first date?”
That smile… God help me.
I grin back, my pulse kicking hard. “Yeah,” I say, voice low. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Thirty
Matilda
Thirty minutes later and the taxi pulls up outside Henry’s apartment block. To say it is nicer than mine is an understatement. The concierge greets us as we walk in and I feel Henry place a gentle hand on my back guiding us through the lobby to the elevators. Once in, the air around us grows hot, yet a chill of anticipation shivered down my spine. My thoughts race as to whether I was about to make a massive mistake, yet when I look at Henry all I feel is want and a need to explore this to whatever end. Something I have never felt with anyone before. He walked me into his home and not a word was spoken between us. Nothing needed to be said. He stood by the window removing his jacket and the moonlight weaved a silken tapestry around him, like a work of art I had been blocking out all these years. My eyes tracing the hard curves of his silhouette. He turned to look at me and the space between us dwindled as he took steps towards me. Full of purpose and magnetic energy. My fingertips reach out to brush the cotton of his shirt, twisting and pulling at the buttons. I don’t want to rush this, I want everysecond to last a minute and every minute to last an hour. Infinite time to see this play out, to touch and feel every part of him that has been held captive all this time by policies, hurt and towering walls of denial. His hands take my waist, running up the curves of my body that I once hated and over examined. Yet, he clasps them like they are a treasure to hold. Tracing each curve of my body, sending my nerve endings into a frenzy. Who knew the human touch could perform such magic. I immerse myself into every sensation. Savouring each shiver, gasp of breath and the pausing of time as the world rushes past us, but only we are here, now, within this room. I feel the zip pull down my back as fresh air lands upon my bare skin. Slowly he pulls at each strap releasing one shoulder then the next.
“Are you sure?” His eyes are hot with desire as he claims his confirmation that we are going to do this.
“Yes. I want you.” I replied and slid my hands within his unbuttoned shirt and pushed the shirt over his shoulder, leaving it to fall to the ground. His chest is hard, warm and dusted with dark hair. I can’t take him in quick enough. His hand lifts my chin meeting his gaze again before he kisses me. Softly, barely contacting, making my core clench and burn with fire. The dress falls to the ground and he pulls away to stare at me.
“Your so fucking beautiful.” and in that moment I truly feel beautiful. Watching his face harden with lust ignites my core further. He grabs at my thighs and pulls me up in one move, wrapping my legs around his waist. I feel his length hard and ridged beneath his trousers against my core and the touch alone is nearly sending me over the edge. He walks me through to the bedroom and lays me on the bed, all while kissing at every part of exposed skin he can get to.
I make quick work of unclasping my bra and Henry removes my knickers. He pulls on them slowly revealing me inch by inch making me gasp for breath and arch my back in need.
“I need you.” Henry says as he crawls to face me on the bed.
“Henry,” I say, breaking the spell between us.
“Yes?”
“I wanted to say thank you for what you said at the awards ceremony.” I trace a hand down his cheek.
