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‘She’s my best friend. She’s great. Also, very astute.’
‘She is astute. I’m an absolute rake, inviting you over here and ravishing my artistic muse.’
‘Is that what I am? A muse?’
‘Cinnamon was a muse. Leyna...’ I take a long, deep breath. ‘I’m not sure.’
She smiles knowingly but says nothing. She holds my hand, a comforting gesture, with no judgement and no pressure to be anything other than present, here in this moment.
We finish our food, I make more tea, and we sit together on the sofa in the living room. It’s possibly my favourite room in the house. One entire wall is covered in books from top to bottom. The shelves even continue above the doorframe.
‘I should have known that an English professor would have a library for his living room.’
‘Thank you, I think. I do love books, but I can’t really take the credit for this. Not long after I moved in, and completely against my wishes, my mother sent someone over to redecorate the house which is the only reason it looks somewhat decent.’
‘Somewhat decent? You’ve got to be joking. Your house is like a page out ofEnglish Country Homes!’
‘It’s not.’
‘It’s beautiful. Take the compliment, even if the decorating wasn’t your idea.’ She smiles sweetly at me, that smile that had me completely fooled for so long, as she moves closer on the sofa. ‘Now, if you were here on a Sunday, a quiet non-descript Sunday with nothing to do, how on earth do you choose which book to pick up?!’
‘I spin around and point,’ I say teasingly. ‘Some are for reading, some are for looking at, and some are so beautiful that I can’t not have them. So, I suppose it depends what sort of mood I’m in.’
‘And what sort of mood are you in, Professor?’
‘Come here,’ and I drag her over to the bookshelves. ‘Now close your eyes.’
‘I thought you were kidding!’
‘I was. Close your eyes. Now I’m going to spin you around three times. Ready? One, two, three.’ I hold onto her shoulders and spin her slowly, like we’re dancing. I’ve stopped spinning her and she’s looking upwards but with her eyes closed still. I can’t resist so I kiss her, brushing my mouth against her parted lips.
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise but then she throws her arms around my neck, arching her body into mine.
‘I should have seen that one coming.’
‘I’m quite glad you didn’t.’
We kiss and we can’t keep our hands off each other. With full bellies and plenty of caffeine, we head back up the stairs once again and into the bedroom where we spend the next several hours half-naked, getting to know each other very well, indeed.
Though, I would be remiss in saying it wasn’t bittersweet. It feels like my hours with Leyna are coming to a close and I want to spend just as much time as possible with her like this, where it feels like there is no time and the clock has almost run out. I want to pleasure her over and over and I can’t seem to get enough of her smell and her taste. I make certain that this is a weekend she will never forget.
When she leaves, that will be the end of this tryst, the end of our weekend of passion. We’d both agreed to indulge in our lustful proclivities just this once, and that’s the way it was just going to have to be. When she leaves today, it’s over and I’ll have to make my peace with that.
But I have one final request. Later that evening, as she’s putting on her coat and about to go, I say to her, ‘Leyna. When you go to work tomorrow...’
She looks at me inquisitively.
‘Don’t wear any knickers.’
