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“Tea, coffee, water, orange juice, cordial?” He smirked at me. “Whisky?”
I laughed. “Orange juice, please. Then who knows? Maybe a whisky to follow.”
“Adventurous, are you?”
“Sometimes.”
I was bouncing on the bubble of fantasy, my body still possessed by the dirty attention I’d received at the hands of a man like Julian. A man I’d never have expected to have met, let alone have sex with.
I prayed that would happen soon.
I wanted more than anything to have sex with Julian. I wanted his cock to be the one inside me for the very first time.
He handed over my orange juice and got one for himself. We stood in silence, both of us sipping, not quite sure what to say. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though. It never was.
I opted for humour, nodding my head towards his suit.
“Do you ever take that off?”
He laughed, looking down at his glass. “Occasionally. Luckily, I have more than one.”
“I know,” I said. “I saw them.”
“I don’t do much variety these days.”
I looked him dead on. “How come?”
It was a precursor to a much deeper set of questions, and he knew it.
“My past is quite a murky area. I don’t think you want to go there. I certainly don’t.”
He was wrong, though. I did want to go there. I wanted to know Julian as well as he knew every part of my body.
My confidence was definitely growing, possibly an orgasm high.
“How come you ended up here?” I asked him. “Seriously.”
“As I said, I have a very murky past.”
I took his wrist as he made to walk past me.
“You just licked my ass, Julian. You can tell me a few of your secrets, don’t you think?”
His eyes were still so dark as they sparkled.
“Is this a bartering service? You’ve licked my ass, so tell me why you fucked your family over and destroyed their lives?”
Ouch. His words knocked me back. I let go of his wrist.
“There you go,” he said. “Not all that pleasant, is it?”
I followed him into the living room, sitting next to him on the sofa. He placed his orange juice on the coffee table, but took a whisky bottle from down the side. He swigged a shot back before offering it to me. I shook my head.
“I’m still married, Rosie. On paper, anyway. I have,had, a family, back in Oxford.”
The thought was surprisingly weird, like it punched me. I felt bizarrely jealous.
“You’re married?”
