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Well and truly hard as rock. "Go on…"
"I was alone near the harbor one evening, watching the fishing boats come in. I felt something. Her free hand reached to the back of her shoulder. "Here."
He listened intently as he imagined it.
"At first I thought it was an insect, but then some innate reaction in my body told me what it was. It was something sensual, sexual."
She was like a drug, he decided in that moment. If the building had been on fire, he couldn't have stepped away. So much for caution. He rode his fingers against hers, wanting it to be their bodies meshing that way.
"I turned around and there was a boy standing behind me, a dark-eyed gypsy. He'd kissed my shoulder." Her fingers trailed across the back of her shoulder again. "I felt both fear and the thrill that comes from...inside." She locked her fingers with his, and they merged for a moment, totally in tune. "It touched me deeply and I can still remember how I could barely breathe." Their fingers rode up between each other, their eyes speaking without words.
She laughed, breaking the moment. "That's all that happened, but it was a special moment, moving."
"It's the poor youth I feel sorry for." He drew her fingers to his lips to kiss them.
"I expect he's kissed a thousand shoulders by now."
"And never found one quite so perfect...the virginal Abigail, how blessed he was."
She looked up from her wine and caught the message he was sending her. He wanted to be inside her. Soon.
"I like the idea of your sexual awakening in Greece, but I'm jealous of the youth that first stirred the woman in you."
Her lips were slightly parted, her cheeks glowing. "If we were somewhere more private, I'd show you that you are the one awakening me now." Her pupils were dilated, her eyes darkly suggestive.
Raw lust surged up inside him. He wanted her on her back. He rested his arm along the banquette behind her shoulders and kissed her mouth, his tongue skimming her lips, tasting her. You're supposed to be talking to her, learning about her. Focus, dammit.
"You have the most incredible eyes," he said. "They are almost amber, like a cat's."
She gave a mock puzzled look. "Hmm, I thought they were a dull hazel, but I'm pleased that you see them that way."
He chuckled and lifted her chin with his fingers, encouraging her to look at him again. "No, definitely amber, both rare and beautiful." He looped a trailing curl behind her ear. "What of your heritage? There has to be some Celt in there, surely?"
"The ginger tinge to my hair gave it away, huh?"
"Kind of, but more than that."
"My dad was Scottish. He died a couple of years ago." Sadness passed over her eyes then she blinked it away. "My mum is English, like yours."
"Any brothers or sisters?"
"No, just me. I've always been a bit of a loner, independent, part of being an only child I suppose. To be honest I always felt like a bit of an outsider, sometimes I still do." She frowned.
Was this a confession, he wondered? How much of a loner was she and did independence mean she looked after number one? He wanted to know and yet...he didn't. What he really wanted to do was to forget about his concern about her agenda and take her to bed instead.
"I can understand that. As a young person I had a hard time trying to decide which culture I felt part of, the Greek or the English." He hadn't meant to comment, but the thought had turned into words unheeded. He topped up their glasses. "Have you always lived in London?"
She nodded. "Yes, I'm a city girl through and through." She paused. "We share the fact that we have mixed heritage."
"Yes." He smiled, acknowledging the coincidence. "And the red in your hair has come down your father's side?"
"The hair is a pain in the proverbial. I have to wear it really long, or else very short, otherwise it grows straight out. I hate it."
"I love your hair." He ran his hand through the trailing strands, unable to resist contact again. "Last night, I wanted to stroke it while I was fucking you."
Her lips parted, her breasts shifting inside her dress as her breathing pattern altered.
His hands itched to touch her, to mold her breasts in his hands, feel her nipples. Lick them. Words melted away from his mind. Actions took over. His mouth covered hers, his hand cupping the back of her head beneath her hair.
