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“Go?”
She hefted her purse. “Sure, your place. You said you only live a few blocks away on Tremont, right?”
I nodded. It wasn’t supposed to be this easy. It normally took more time. Women with her looks required more time, more coaxing, and certainly a less-direct approach.
“How about your place?” I suggested.
“I didn’t invite you to my place. You invited me to yours.”
I had admitted to wanting to seduce her, yes, but I always went to the woman’s place, never mine. Not even Melinda had been to my penthouse. It wouldn’t be right. It was against my self-imposed rules.
The women generally preferred their home turf anyway, or a hotel. Ever sinceFifty Shadescame out, they were all afraid I might have a dungeon of some sort.
“You change your mind?” she asked matter-of-factly, like we were talking about changing a wine order.
“I was just thinking,” I said, stalling for time.
She put a twenty on the table for her tab. “About where you live? Give me your driver’s license and I’ll find it for you——or did you forget that too?” This girl had spunk.
“I think I can find it,” I said, getting out of my chair.
“What? The license or the apartment?”
“Very funny, Amy.” I was trapped. I didn’t take women home, but here I was agreeing to take her up to my penthouse. I had one last option.
As we exited into the cool evening air, I leaned over and whispered. “If we go to my place, I’m going to fuck your brains out all night long and not let you go till morning.” It was my last attempt at getting her to back down.
She grabbed my ass and squeezed. “Sounds like a plan.”
My cock hardened even further. I took off my coat and wrapped it over her shoulders.
“Why thank you,” she said in a very sultry voice. “Which way?”
There was no longer any face-saving way out of this. I placed my hand on the small of her back and guided her toward my building. The heat of her touch as she wrapped an arm around me set my blood boiling.
I sped up the pace. It wasn’t far. She was sending my cock into overdrive, and I couldn’t wait to get her naked. At least I wouldn’t have to hunt for my clothes in the dark tonight.
She walked with an uneven gait.
“Shoes hurting?”
“Yeah, a little. They’re made to look good, not be comfortable. The price we pay for vanity, I guess.”
“I hope you don’t want to kick them off as soon as we get inside. They’ll look great over my shoulders.”
She giggled. “I can be persuaded.”
Somehow nothing I said got to this girl. I guided her to the left on Tremont Street. “I can hail a cab, if you like.”
“No, I like to walk. The Common is pretty in the evening.” The Boston Common was much smaller than New York’s Central Park, but still a pretty space as downtown parks went.
I enjoyed walking on the Common as well. It was a cleansing thing to do when I needed to think. A block later, I stopped us outside my building.
“What’s your apartment number?” she asked.
“The penthouse,” I replied.
It didn’t get the response I’d expected. She didn’t seem impressed in the least. She took out her phone and sent a quick message.
