and getting hotter and hotter as he kept moving his fingers. She twisted her hips and gasped, hands gripping the unit so tight they were almost numb and her eyes were clenching shut and then she let out an, 'O-oh-oh God,' and waves of pleasure and release flowed over and through her.
He rested his forehead against the back of her head and took a deep, unsteady breath. 'Come on.' He said urgently, stepping away, 'I'm taking you to bed.'
Whirling around to look at him, his intense dark eyes and messed up hair and glazed expression, she took a step and almost folded. He laughed and whisked her up easily, throwing her over his shoulder and racing to his room. All she got was a hazy impression of a double bed and white walls before he threw her down on the pillows and yanked the shirt off her, pressing open-mouthed kisses onto every bit of exposed skin, his big, warm hands everywhere while she laughed breathlessly and pulled his top off, pushing his shorts off, gasping at the outrageous perfection of his lean, toned body and wrapping herself around him so that a few blistering, panting, exciting minutes later there was no telling where he ended or she started and the real world - where she was tomboyish, overlooked Sofia - didn’t exist.
Sunday
When Sofia woke up in the morning next to Nathan, she didn't feel guilty, ashamed or awkward, she felt liberated. She’d taken the risk Issy had talked about and it had paid off. Nathan was so lovely, the way he'd cuddled her close after the astounding sex and asked if she was okay - to which she'd replied with a giggle and resounding
yes -
all she could think was,
that was incredible
.
As she lay in bed in the dawn light, snug under his duvet and wondering if she should get up or jump him again, he rolled over and grabbed her and they had blurry, glorious, morning sex. It was better than the night before. Hotter, sweeter. Almost as good was that when she peeked out from the corner of the duvet an hour later, he was standing next to the bed wearing nothing but jockey shorts and a pair of black framed glasses, with a huge cup of coffee in one hand, and an Easter Egg in the other.
'Morning.' He murmured, hair sticking up in tufts, sinking down onto the bed and handing her the hot drink and the chocolate. ‘Happy Easter.’
He might just be the perfect man. 'Hi,' shifting to sit upright with the covers anchored under her armpits, she shook her tangled waves back from her face. ‘Thank you. Happy Easter to you too. Did you have a stock of them?’ She nodded at the box in her hand, the purple bunny looking delighted to be featured on it.
‘I pulled some clothes on and ran down to the corner shop,’ he smiled.
‘Thanks, that’s sweet.’ She paused and stared at him. 'I love those glasses on you.'
He touched a hand to them self-consciously. 'Thanks,' he cleared his throat.
'They suit you.' Her lips parted as her gaze dropped to his chest. He was so gorgeous. And she'd had him. And yes, there was a sense of pride in that and she was pleased that she'd taken a chance and it had worked out, but it was more than that. She wanted to spend more time with him. To see if really liking him could turn into something else. But he was in London and she was in Bournemouth and this was probably only a one-time thing. He came across as genuine, but the bottom line was that he was a handsome barman and for all she knew, might bring girls back here all the time. Which probably meant that once she was done with her coffee she'd be on her way, doing the walk of shame.
'Drink up,' he instructed, then shocked her by adding, 'we're having a shower together and then, unless you've got a burning need to see your friends, I'm taking you around some of my favourite places in London.'
‘Oh.’
‘What is it?’
‘Nothing, it’s just not what I was expecting.’
He frowned, looking unsure. 'Right. Well, if you don't want to I can get you back to Chelsea-,'
'No! I want to,' she grinned, rallying.
He rested his forehead against the back of her head and took a deep, unsteady breath. 'Come on.' He said urgently, stepping away, 'I'm taking you to bed.'
Whirling around to look at him, his intense dark eyes and messed up hair and glazed expression, she took a step and almost folded. He laughed and whisked her up easily, throwing her over his shoulder and racing to his room. All she got was a hazy impression of a double bed and white walls before he threw her down on the pillows and yanked the shirt off her, pressing open-mouthed kisses onto every bit of exposed skin, his big, warm hands everywhere while she laughed breathlessly and pulled his top off, pushing his shorts off, gasping at the outrageous perfection of his lean, toned body and wrapping herself around him so that a few blistering, panting, exciting minutes later there was no telling where he ended or she started and the real world - where she was tomboyish, overlooked Sofia - didn’t exist.
Sunday
When Sofia woke up in the morning next to Nathan, she didn't feel guilty, ashamed or awkward, she felt liberated. She’d taken the risk Issy had talked about and it had paid off. Nathan was so lovely, the way he'd cuddled her close after the astounding sex and asked if she was okay - to which she'd replied with a giggle and resounding
yes -
all she could think was,
that was incredible
.
As she lay in bed in the dawn light, snug under his duvet and wondering if she should get up or jump him again, he rolled over and grabbed her and they had blurry, glorious, morning sex. It was better than the night before. Hotter, sweeter. Almost as good was that when she peeked out from the corner of the duvet an hour later, he was standing next to the bed wearing nothing but jockey shorts and a pair of black framed glasses, with a huge cup of coffee in one hand, and an Easter Egg in the other.
'Morning.' He murmured, hair sticking up in tufts, sinking down onto the bed and handing her the hot drink and the chocolate. ‘Happy Easter.’
He might just be the perfect man. 'Hi,' shifting to sit upright with the covers anchored under her armpits, she shook her tangled waves back from her face. ‘Thank you. Happy Easter to you too. Did you have a stock of them?’ She nodded at the box in her hand, the purple bunny looking delighted to be featured on it.
‘I pulled some clothes on and ran down to the corner shop,’ he smiled.
‘Thanks, that’s sweet.’ She paused and stared at him. 'I love those glasses on you.'
He touched a hand to them self-consciously. 'Thanks,' he cleared his throat.
'They suit you.' Her lips parted as her gaze dropped to his chest. He was so gorgeous. And she'd had him. And yes, there was a sense of pride in that and she was pleased that she'd taken a chance and it had worked out, but it was more than that. She wanted to spend more time with him. To see if really liking him could turn into something else. But he was in London and she was in Bournemouth and this was probably only a one-time thing. He came across as genuine, but the bottom line was that he was a handsome barman and for all she knew, might bring girls back here all the time. Which probably meant that once she was done with her coffee she'd be on her way, doing the walk of shame.
'Drink up,' he instructed, then shocked her by adding, 'we're having a shower together and then, unless you've got a burning need to see your friends, I'm taking you around some of my favourite places in London.'
‘Oh.’
‘What is it?’
‘Nothing, it’s just not what I was expecting.’
He frowned, looking unsure. 'Right. Well, if you don't want to I can get you back to Chelsea-,'
'No! I want to,' she grinned, rallying.
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