Image courtesy of Inmagine.com
Here’s a snippet of my yet-to-be-published erotic romance ‘Twenty One Days for Liza‘.
I straighten my knee length skirt and smooth my blouse, making sure I’m not showing too much cleavage. My mid length hair is tied up in a knot with a few stray brown curls hanging down my face. When I arrive at the hostess’s podium, she gestures me to where Chris is sitting. On first glance, he isn’t bad at all. Thankful I wore a skirt and not the pants suit my mother suggested, I follow her to our table.
Chris rises and offers me his hand, “So happy to finally meet you.” he smiles. His teeth are almost perfect and he has all his hair. This is good.
“Likewise.” I return, sitting down in front of him.
“I want to apologize first off.” he says, “For my mother’s behaviour.”
I play dumb, “What do you mean?”
“I know my mother can be a pill and I pity your mother for having to put up with her.” he explains. I watch his gleaming blue eyes as he speaks, “She’s just dying to marry me off and she’ll go to whatever lengths she can.”
“Sounds like my mother.” I say, taking a menu from the waitress.
“She’s run out of colleagues’ kids to match make with me; now she’s on to the church.” he laughs, “My brother finally found himself a girlfriend…no thanks to my mother, of course.”
I laugh and he mimics anger, “Lucky bastard.”
Chris nods, “So, do you date much?”
I shake my head, “Not really. I know this is going to sound fluffy, but I believe what’s meant to be is meant to be. I’ll meet someone on my own time, when it’s the right time.”
“That doesn’t sound fluffy to me at all.” he says, “I feel the same way.”
We scan the menu together in silence for a moment, “You hungry?” he asks.
“Famished.” I answer, “This chicken salad looks delicious.”
“Shall I order two?” he asks, “With a glass of wine? Or do you prefer something else?”
I blush, “I don’t really drink.”
He shakes his head, “Neither do I.”
After the waitress takes the orders, Chris turns to me and asks, “So what was your last date like?”
He folds his hands together and I notice how soft his skin looks. “Boring. So far you’re fairing much better than he did.”
“Excellent.” he smiles, “My last date mumbled to herself. It was annoying. I couldn’t tell who she was talking to.” he laughs, “After a while I just let her keep talking. It was quite entertaining….the conversation she had with herself was enlightening.”
“Really?” I chuckle, “You poor thing!” I say, patting his hand and at the same time copping a feel. He picks up on my touch and I notice his cheeks colour slightly.
“It wasn’t so bad. She was sweet.” Chris grins, “It could have been worse.”
Our food arrives and he gestures for me to eat, “You’re right, this does look delicious.” he comments, taking a bite.
When our meal is over, he asks if I would like to take a walk with him downtown. It is a warm, sunny afternoon, so I oblige. As we walk, he takes my hand in his, “I hope I’m not being too forward.” he says, “Not at all.” I answer, enjoying the warmth and the gentle stroking of his finger across the inside of my palm.
“I really like you Liza.” he says as we approach a small, empty seating area, “I hope we can do this again.”
“I’d like that.” I say, and before I know it, his lips are on mine. At first I recoil, but then I relax as his gentle touch soothes me. He doesn’t use any tongue; just simple, chaste little kisses. It’s really sweet.
“You smell wonderful,” he breathes, “Like flowers in a meadow.”
“Thank you,” I say, not used to kissing and talking at the same time. He continues kissing me and I feel a mixture of both reluctance and longing, a strange blend of physical need together with years of ingrained repression.
His hands find my waist and he embraces me tenderly. When our bodies finally meet, he looks at me softly and turns his head to the side, opening his mouth. The gush of warm, wet sensation I feel as his tongue entangles mine is so incredible. There is a pulling I feel in my gut that travels all the way down to my toes. I want to grab a handful of his hair but I’m so afraid.
“You want to get out of here?” he asks as he lifts his lips off mine just for a moment.
I pull back a little and crane my neck, “And go where?” I ask.
“There’s a hotel about six blocks from here.” he answers, “I could fuck you and have you back to the office in thirty minutes.”
I let go abruptly, “I don’t think so.”
“What?” he says, aghast.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t do that kind of stuff.” I say, shaking my head.
“You don’t have casual sex? Ever?” he asks, as if it’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard.
“No.” I answer flatly.
“Well aren’t you the tease.” he murmurs, adjusting his pants. “Fine. I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Never mind. I can find my own way.” I say, walking away.
He catches up and reaches for my arm, “Hey, I’m sorry. This was a misunderstanding. No hard feelings?” he makes a steeple with his fingers, like he’s praying, “Please keep this between us?”
I glance down at the tent in his pants,”Well I don’t have any hard feelings, but I can’t say the same for you.” I scoff, “Don’t worry, your mommy won’t find out that her son’s a pervert.”