Cocktails in Chelsea (6 page)

'What? Ah, all right.' Her hand dropped to her side.

Scooping the teabags out of the mugs, he slopped some milk in jerkily and span away. 'Back in a minute. Make yourself comfortable. Stick the TV on or something.'

‘All right,’ she repeated. He’d practically run out of the room. Run away from her? The thought made her feel tired as she took her tea across the room with her and settled into a corner of the sofa, eyeing the black, mid-heeled, strappy boots she was wearing. She should take them off, but couldn't summon the motivation or energy. Maybe he wasn’t interested after all, and was just being nice. If that was the case, she should remember it and not humiliate herself again by making another move on him.

She studied the stuffed bookshelves and pictures on the blue walls, photos of Nathan with various people in a range of poses and places, some of them family by the resemblance around their eyes and mouth. A guy in one of them looked vaguely familiar, black hair curling at his nape, nose crooked like it had been broken, eyes squinting into the sun. She knew him from somewhere but couldn’t immediately place him.

'So, I've made a decision,' Nathan sauntered back in, looking a little more relaxed, and handed her a small navy towel. He rubbed a matching one along the back of his neck to catch some stray droplets from his black hair, which was going wavy.

'Which is?' Sofia asked, untangling her hair from the knot and dabbing it with the towel.

He avoided her inquisitive gaze, moving over to the unit to grab his tea. 'It's late.'

Bolting up, 'You want me to go.' She felt deflated, wanting to spend more time with him.

'No.' He looked surprised at her words. 'I think you should stay. It's almost one in the morning; it'll take ages to get a cab, especially because it’s a bank holiday weekend so the clubs are busier, and you don't even know if you can get in if you do get back there. You take my bed. I'll sleep on the couch.'

'Ri-ght.' She said slowly, spinning the word out. 'Makes sense to stop here I suppose.' Clearly he didn't want her in his bed with him.

'Good.' His massive smile as he sat down on the other end of the sofa made her insides flip over and do a loop-the-loop.

'Yes, except, you in your bed, me on here,' she added.

'No way, you're the-'

'Woman?' she flashed. 'Don't be so sexist. I've slept on far worse. Kipped in sleeping bags at festivals, slept on the beach on a ratty towel in Thailand. I insist. I'm not putting you out. I'm smaller than you too, I can fit on this,' she gestured to the tatty but comfy three seater they were on and raked her gaze up and down his body, which turned out to be a mistake, because all the moisture left her mouth, ‘and you can't.' She ended huskily, glancing down so he couldn't read her face.

'Actually,' he said mildly, 'I was going to say you're the guest but if you feel that strongly about it, fine. I'll take the bed.'

'Oh.' Now she felt silly. And doubly deflated as it could have been the perfect in for him to suggest they share his bed.

'I'll get you some stuff,' he said, getting up and leaving the room.

Once he was gone she dropped her head into her hands and groaned. What was she doing? And how was she going to cope with sleeping in the next room, only a few metres away from him?

'I hope these are okay?'

She glanced up and sucked in a breath. He'd quickly changed into loose grey jogging bottoms and a white t-shirt that hung off his broad shoulders and suited his tall, rangy body perfectly. Oh, wow.

He looked sheepish as he came towards her with a bundle of things.

'What is it? Why have you got that expression on your face?' she asked as he handed it all over. Trying to distract her hormones from his proximity, she studied the small pile of belongings. 'New toothbrush. Great, thanks. Towel. Check. T-shirt, Brazil, World Cup; I like your style. And- Oh.' A pair of tight jockey shorts. His underwear. That he usually wore against his-

Gulp.

'I thought you might prefer to borrow a pair rather than wander around in your- er, knickers.' He stated, voice rough as his eyes dropped and ran over her black-denim covered hips before lifting back to her face. A muscle in his jaw jumped while he waited for her answer.

Something in her warmed, but she could be reading this all wrong.
'Yes, thanks.' She replied, setting everything down on the sofa and sitting next to it, deliberately crossing her legs and leaning over to take off the boots, aware he was staring. 'My feet are almost beyond repair after the last few nights,' she grumbled, fumbling with the straps.

'Here, let me.' He cleared his throat and crouched in front of her, pulling her foot onto his taut thigh so he could deal with the tiny buckles.

She squirmed as he bent his neck in concentration, his head practically in her lap, so close she could feel his hot breath through the fabric of her jeans. It would be so easy to lift his chin with her hand and kiss him.

'Cheers,' she squeaked. Then tried to joke her way out of it. 'I could get used to guys kneeling at my feet.'

'I'm sure they'd be more than happy to.' He bantered back, Bambi eyes gazing into hers as he slipped off the first boot and swapped her feet over.

The breath stopped in her throat.

He took off the second boot and set it aside, gazing at her. It took a huge effort, watching Nathan's pupils dilate, not to fantasise she was falling into them, and correspondingly
not
to lean forward and kiss him. To see if she could fall further. To avoid temptation and making an idiot of herself, she sat back. As if on connecting threads, Nathan followed, moving so he was kneeling up with his waist between her open knees.

And he kissed her.

She jerked, eyes drifting shut, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders as her mouth opened. She pulled him in tight, fingers moving up into his thick hair as he ran his hands up into hers, holding the back of her head as he kissed her passionately. When he nipped her bottom lip she moaned into his mouth. His chest rubbed against hers, his hips pressing against that sweet spot. It felt so incredibly good. Completely different to how it had been with her last boyfriend, who’d only ever gotten her lukewarm at best. Nathan already had her scorching hot, just with a kiss.

'Mmm.' She arched her back, tugging him closer.

And then he was pushing away. 'We don't have to do anything. I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage. I offered you somewhere to stay.'

He seemed totally unaffected by the kiss, apart from a slightly reddened mouth and ruffled hair from where she’d clutched at it.

'No. I mean, yes.' Her lack of experience swamped her. Maybe he'd only kissed her because she was there? He couldn't be that into her if he found it so easy to stay in control, while she was practically panting. 'I- I'll go to sleep then.' She faked a yawn. 'Night, Nathan. Thanks for everything.'

'Oh, yeah. Night.' He untangled his legs from hers, getting to his feet. 'I- uh.'

'Yes?' she asked hopefully, standing.

'Sleep well. See you in the morning.'

'Uh-huh.' Swallowing away the lump in her throat, she made herself respond. 'You too.'

Was that it?

He found her in the kitchen area half an hour later just as she was stretching up to grab a glass from one of the cupboards.

'Can't sleep?'

She paused, the football shirt riding up over the back of her shorts, before returning to a flat-footed position. ‘Nope.’

‘Here,’ he reached past her for a glass and put it down in front of her. ‘And me neither,' he continued, referring to his question about sleep. 'Any particular reason?'

'Don't think so,' she shook her head. Praying he couldn't hear the tremor in her voice. The one that screamed how impossibly sexually frustrated she was. The one that said,
if you ask, you can take me now
.

'This is stupid,' he muttered, stepping up behind her and sliding a burning hand onto her shoulder. She swore every ridge of his fingerprints was imprinting on her skin through the cotton top.

'Why?' she asked shakily. 'Because if you're going to start going on again about me taking the bed-'

'It's stupid because we want to be in bed together.' He nudged her forward, trapping her between the unit and his body, his front against her back.

She could feel his erection against her bum, and his hard chest against her shoulder blades and nearly moaned the words, 'We do?'

He went still. ‘Don’t we?’

She folded back against him, knees weak. Be
brave. Take a risk. You do in everything else that matters.
She sucked in a breath. ‘I do,’ she muttered, putting her hands behind her back so she could run her nails up his thighs.

He hissed out a breath. ‘Me too. So much. Come here.’ He swept his hands around her front and up under the shirt, cradling her bare breasts, tweaking her nipples with careful, deliberate fingers.

She gasped and pushed back against him, muscles and nerves between her legs clenching.

'Do you want me to stop?' he dropped his head to nibble her earlobe, his fingers playing and teasing.

‘Don’t be so bloody stupid.’ She blurted. Shit, that hardly been sexy. ‘Sorry, what I meant was-,’

He chuckled in her ear, ‘You are brilliant, Sofia. You make me laugh, in a good way. Just say what you think, I like it.’

‘Okay,’ she gulped, ‘in that case, if you stop I might have to take a contract out on your life.’ It felt incredible being touched and held by him. Better than any clever skateboard trick or good surfing day.

‘I wouldn’t want to be hunted down by trained killers,’ he breathed into her ear and she could hear the smile in his voice, ‘so I guess I’ll have to obey.’ One hand slipped down inside the waistband of the shorts and her hands curled around the edge of the kitchen unit as his fingertips drew circles on her hip and drifted to her flat lower belly.

'Oh, thank god,' she whispered and he laughed in a low quiet way that made her insides squish. Both of his hands returned to breasts. 'Sorry I haven't got much.'

'You've got a tight, sexy body and I love it.'

'You do?' She always worried she was a bit too taut, too boyish.

'It's lovely. You're lovely.' He ran his hands down her sides and traced a forefinger along the bottom edge of the shorts, over her trembling thigh.

She squirmed.

He kissed her neck and tilted her slightly, moving his hand up and then down inside the front of shorts but this time his index finger dipped lower, using just the right amount of pressure in just the right way in exactly the right place. Sofia moaned, knees shaking and going to mush, grateful his hard body was supporting hers, or she'd be a hot mess on the floor right now. It was so delicious. He was so delicious, and sexy and confident as he kept touching her. She could feel how turned on he was and there was a gathering urgency between her thighs and deep internal muscles were clenching and sparking 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.