Chapter 4
Once in the kitchen, tried to collect herself.
She reached for the bottle of white wine from the fridge, and turned to set it down on the countertop. As she turned, she faced the living room and caught sight of Martin, who had his back to her.
He was looking through the window that they’d just been standing near. She felt lightheaded as she looked at him, and she set the bottle down on the counter and then placed both hands on the surface, trying to ground her energy.
She breathed in and out.
What am I doing? she wondered. Is this really happening?
Martin Cable is here.
In my apartment. Where is this going to lead?
Are we going to hook up?
Oh God, she thought, a flash of her fantasies of his naked bod zipping through her mind. I want this. She felt her heart flutter in her chest. I want this. I really, really, want this.
I’m just going to go with it.
See where it leads.
She felt giddy as she turned and retrieved a wine glass from a cupboard. She filled it half way with white wine, and added a touch to her own glass as well.
She snuck a second glance out at Martin as she picked the two glasses up.
He wants this too, she thought, contemplating his presence.
The thought gave her confidence as she walked back out into the living room.
Martin turned as she entered the room.
She sat down on the couch, and he crossed the room and sat beside her. When she handed him the wine, he thanked her.
The music had shifted to one of her favorite jazz songs, but the familiar melody failed to soothe her as she tried to think of what to say next. Her sense of attraction and excitement veered towards anxiety, and she shifted in her seat.
Martin appeared relaxed, but she could sense that he, too, was searching for words to say.
“So, you’re going to level the building?” she asked, at the same time that he opened his mouth and asked “What makes you want to live in Europe?”
The two questions hung in the air, clashing.
“Oh… um—” said awkwardly.
Martin cleared his throat.
looked down at her glass. She turned it in her hands. She felt him shift in his seat.
“I am going to tear the building down,” he said. “Start fresh. I hired an excellent architect.”
heard him stop short. She didn’t look up. The thought of her home being turned to a pile of rubble was upsetting her.
She felt Martin’s leg brush hers.
He was moving closer to her.
“But you don’t want to hear about that, do you?” he asked, his tone softer now. “Let’s talk about something else.”
The mental image of her building being demolished was hard to move past. She stared at the liquid in her glass, watching the reflection of the ceiling lights sparkle off of the pale yellow surface.
What will it be like, to live somewhere else? she wondered. Who will I be without this apartment building. Without my neighbors. Without my friends, and my job. What will be left?
She felt his fingers on her chin, gently lifting it, pulling her from her reverie—pulling her back to the here and now.
He was staring at her intently. “Okay?” he asked. “I don’t want to upset you.”
looked at him, her eyes wide.
Damn, he is so handsome, she thought, taking in his strong features. In all of her [main woman age] years of life, she had to admit that he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. His chiseled jawline, and full lips made her think of his kiss. His eyes were sharp and blue. His blonde hair curled slightly at the tips, making her want to run her fingers through it. All of her thoughts stopped as she looked at him.
Instinctively, she set her glass on the coffee table in front of them. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to taste him.
She didn’t want to talk at all.
Martin seemed to sense the change in mood, and he leaned back on the couch.
This handsome man is on my couch. He’s here now, and I’m here now. Why am I thinking about everything besides him? I mean—look at him, thought.
She let her eyes roam over Martin for a moment. He was lean and strong. She felt her sense of excitement begin to build.
“How about this,” she said slowly, sweeping her hair over her shoulder and turning on the couch so that she was facing him. He watched her motions carefully, taking them in with hooded eyes. He looked hungry with desire.
“How about we don’t talk about the apartment building,” she said, moving slowly and carefully until she was sitting lightly on top of him. “And we don’t talk about London.”
She felt how solid he was underneath her as she lowered her weight onto him.
He placed his glass on the side table next to the couch, and moved his hands to ’s hips.
She shivered as one of his fingers grazed her skin just above the waistband of her cut-offs. She let one of her hands move to his temple, and she let her fingers trail over his wavy hair, wrapping one curl around her index finger and then letting it loose.
“How about…” she said slowly, feeling him grow hard as she straddled him.
His finger moved against the skin above her jeans, tracing a line against her slowly.
“How about… we just don’t talk about anything at all?” she said.
“I think that’s a damn good idea,” Martin said, his voice deep and rumbling. “Talking is overrated,” he added, moving his hand so that his thumb was hooked through the belt loop of her shorts.
The gesture felt more intimate, and more affirming of his attraction, than words ever could have.
“It is,” said, meeting his eyes. She saw that the sparkle had returned, and she knew instinctively that he was glad she’d made such a bold move.
Now that she was on his lap, there was no more need to make small talk. The only need was to discover the pleasure that lay ahead of them.
Which sensed would be significant.
Martin was by far the sexiest man she’d ever hooked up with.
She felt a sense of deep anticipation as she leaned into him and found his lips with her own.
He met her lips with passionate acceptance, moving his lips against hers, his mouth open.
She felt herself light up from within as they kissed, his tongue gliding against her lips and tongue, his fingers grazing her hips. She began to rock slightly against him as they kissed, and felt his hard member slide against her cutoffs, creating a sensation of heat and friction.
His hands gripped her hips, pressing her into him. She’d never felt so alive or excited in all of her life.