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Carly, what have you done to me?
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Tingle
I glance at my Rolex:ten past seven.So far, Carly’s over an hour late. Weak with anxiety, I run my fingers through my hair.
I’m standing outsideLeicester Square Tube station in the freezing cold, waiting for my angel to arrive. The weather is dismal, but I barely notice. All I can think about isher; I wonder whether she’s stood me up or if perhaps she got cold feet at the last minute. Perhaps I scaredher off.
Dammit, this is worse than torture.
Biting my cheek, I reach in my pocket and pull out my phone.No messages. I shake my head ruefully.
This doesn’t look good.
No! I refuse to believe that she would have stood me up. I remember the excitement on her face, the joy in her eyes as I said yes to this meeting, and I know something must have happened to delay her. She’s still coming, I can feel it.
I put my hands in my pockets. Glance up and down the street. I’m looking pretty good if I do say so myself: black shirt, waist-coat, expensive Italian brogues. I’ve even had my hair cut especially. It took me hours to decide what to wear. Every single second of the day was spent building up to this moment and I cannot, will not, give up on her.
I’ll wait hours if that’s what it takes.
I look at my watch again:seven-fifteen on the dot.
Tightening my scarf, I glance towards the station entrance and that’s when I see her—a vision in leopard print. The most perfect make-up.Fuck, she’s even more beautiful than I remember.
Bubbling with excitement, I watch Carly glance left and right with a worried frown on her face. After a few seconds, she huddles in a doorway, clearly distressed by my absence. My heart starts to sing.
Excitedly, I race forward and grab hold of her hand. For a moment, we stand in a haze of delirium, smiling at each other.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she stammers. “I lost my phone and then I—”
“Sssh…” I whisper. “You don’t need to explain. All that matters is you’re here now.”
My grip tightens, and I thank God I’m wearing a big jacket. It helps to hide my near-constant erection.
“We’d better hurry,” she says. “The show’s due to start in ten minutes.”
“Fine. You lead the way.” I take her arm and we head briskly in the direction of the theatre. I’m so happy it feels like I’m floating.
Carly is still fretting. “I still feel so bad for making you wait. I promise I’ll make it up to you. Perhaps I can take you for a coffee after the theatre.”
I don’t say anything. Her beauty has left me too choked to speak.
We reach a Zebra crossing and wait for the lights to change. As we approach the Arts Theatre, I see a small crowd gathered outside and men in baseball caps handing out flyers. We enter the foyer. To our left is a bar with a long queue of people waiting to buy refreshments, and to our right is the box office.
Carly pulls out a receipt. “I’ll pick up our tickets,” she says with a cheeky grin.
Suddenly, I remember my manners and ask her if she wants a drink.
“Yes, but I don’t think we have time,” she replies. “The show’s due to start any minute.”
Carly heads towards the box office. Discreetly, my eyes travel down the length of her back, taking in the dip and swell of her perfectly round bottom. I imagine bending her over and sliding my tongue deep inside the crease. I imagine making her nice and wet just before I…
But wait.
I shake my head.
Stop dreaming, you nasty bastard. You’re getting ahead of yourself again.
