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I’m desperate for his touch and I don’t want this night to end, but I’m also not strong enough to take a knockback right now. So, instead of inviting him back to mine, I stand up and place my napkin on the table. My thigh instantly misses the warmth of his hand but I have to do this for my own sanity. “I suppose I should be getting home.” A false cheeriness echoes through my words and I force a smile on my lips.
Collecting a couple of the glasses off the table to place in the dishwasher, I try to head into the kitchen. But before I can, he places his hand on my arm. “Leave those. I’ll tidy up after I’ve walked you home. I’ll earn my keep that way.” He winks.
“You’re staying here?” Stay with me is on the tip of my tongue, just waiting to come out, but I don’t want to be the one to make the first move. Been there, done that, still sporting the bruised ego to show for it.
“Yep. Drank too much to drive, so I’ll crash on the sofa. DJ’s bed’s too small and Scarlet would kill me if I messed her room up.”
I walk over to the closet to retrieve my coat and bag. He graciously helps me into mine and as he scoops the hair from my neck, his fingers brush against my skin. Shivers rush through me. He has always had this effect on me. As we walk out of Lola’s house, he offers me the crook of his elbow and I giggle as I slide my hand into it.
After a few minutes of contented silence, I clear my throat. “Tonight was nice, Freddie. I had a really good time.” I dip my head so he can’t see my eyes and tuck my hair behind my ear and silently tell him, ‘I don’t want it to end.’
He stops walking and stands in front of me. Placing his thumb under my chin, he raises my head to look at him, and his smile knocks the breath out of me.
“I did too. You’re beautiful, Pheebs. Spending the evening talking and laughing with you was just what I needed. It’s what I always need. It’s a shame it’s over.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” His words have ignited a bravery in me I didn’t think I had. “I mean, if you don’t want it to end yet. We could have a coffee at mine. Or whatever. I don’t mind.”
He places his finger on my lips to silence my ramblings, and smiles. “I’d love a coffee, or whatever.” His eyes burn into mine as his thumb runs along my bottom lip. I can’t help it. I dip my tongue out to taste him and relish in the moan that falls from his beautiful lips. “Let’s go, Pheebs. Now.”
Having Freddie in my house is doing mad things to me. Images of him carrying me over the threshold after our wedding, makingcrazy passionate love in every room of the house, and bringing our babies home from the hospital together are taking over my thoughts. He’s what I’ve always wanted, what I’ve always envisioned my future to be.
I moved into this house shortly after Reg died and I needed to be closer to Lola. To keep an eye on her, to make sure she was as okay as she said she was. I never expected it to be years later that I’d see Freddie in here. But he chose to stay away. Now, though, he’s here. And I know he’s snooping around my living room as I make him a coffee in my kitchen.
But I don’t mind. I want him to see the pictures of all of us I have all over the room. Photos from our past, reminders of the good times we had.
The two mugs of steaming coffee smell divine and I quickly take a sip as I walk over the plush carpet in my bare feet. When I get to the living room door, I find him fixated on a photo of us. I thought that night was going to be a turning point in our relationship. That we’d take the flirty banter to another level. But Lola’s boyfriend broke up with her, and instead we spent the night consoling her.
That picture though, is one of my favourites. Taken from afar, we’re around a campfire on a beach in Devon, the flames dancing in front of us as we stare into each other's eyes. Lola framed it and gave it to me, but on the back of the frame she wrote, ‘the look of love,’ and it always makes me smile when I look at it. Sometimes I wish I could go back to then, be the carefree eighteen-year-old who was crazy in lust with her bestie’s twenty-three year old brother. Filled with so much hope and yearning.
He gently runs his finger over the glass and a myriad of emotions cross his face. I almost feel intrusive being here and seeing the vulnerability shine from his features. I shuffle a little further into the room and he snaps out of his melancholy andlifts his gaze to mine. He smiles again which makes me grin back.
“Coffee?” I offer him the mug and he steps forward to take it.
“I was admiring your pictures. We had some good times, didn’t we?” I motion to the sofa and he waits for me to sit down first.
Secretly I love his gentlemanly behaviour, but instead of showing him that I roll my eyes at his chivalry. “Don’t roll your damn eyes at me, Pheebs. I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”
“Well maybe I don’t want a gentleman.” I mumble quietly against the rim of my mug, but, judging by his soft chuckle, not so quietly that he doesn’t hear..
“So tell me what you do want, Pheebs.” He places his coffee on the table, rests his ankle on his knee and positions his body so he’s facing me.
I take a deep breath and follow his lead, placing my coffee down too and scooting closer to him. I’m fully aware that the split in my dress is showing a ridiculous amount of leg, but I don’t give a hoot right now.
“I want you, Freddie. No holds barred. I don’t want the controlled, uptight Freddie we’ve been forced to endure for the past few years. I want the real Freddie Bear. The one I’ve spent most of my life lusting after.” I hold my breath. A part of my brain is scolding me for making myself so vulnerable and the other part is screaming like an NFL cheerleader for finally saying what I want.
His pupils dilate, and for a split second I think he’s going to refuse. But then he drops his leg, stands up, and holds his hand out for me. I take it without hesitation and he pulls me up from the sofa, his other hand reaching around my waist and holding me close to him. “Your wish is my command, Pheebs. Take me to bed, baby.”
I spin in his arms, grab hold of his hand, and lead him through my house. As soon as the door closes in the bedroom, he drops my hand but steps up behind me and presses his body against mine. He lowers his head so his mouth is brushing against the shell of my ear as he whispers, “That’s the last time you’ll be in control tonight, sweetheart. Now, strip.”
A shocked gasp falls from my lips but is quickly replaced by a grin. This is exactly what I wanted. Him taking control and making me feel exquisite along the way.
I reach around to my side and lower the zipper. My straps slowly fall from my shoulders and the dress drops and pools around my feet. He’s still behind me, I can feel his eyes on me, taking in every inch of my flesh on display. I bend over to grab the dress and take pleasure in his sudden inhale, knowing he’s enjoying the view of my bare cheeks.
Placing the dress on a chair in the corner of the room, I take a second to calm myself down, taking a deep breath before turning to face him. My breasts are bare and the only thing I’m wearing is a scrap of black lace that barely covers my pussy. I raise my chin, refusing to feel anything but aroused right now, and look straight into his almost black eyes.
“Do you like what you see, Freddie Bear?” A rush of triumph surges through me when my voice doesn’t wobble with nerves, and then again when he smiles and nods at me.
“Oh, very much so, sweetheart. You’re beautiful. But lose the lace. Let me really see what’s finally mine.”
