Authors: T L Swan
“How long have you owned the apartment?”
“Umm, about six months I guess,” I answer.
“It’s a nice place.” His eyes wander around the crème room with high ceilings. The large taupe lounge wraps around in a horseshoe shape. A huge cane pendant light hangs low over the industrial coffee table and thick pile rug. “You have good taste.”
“Thanks,” I smile nervously at him.
Half an hour later we are arriving at my favourite café, waiting to be seated by one of the waitresses. I can’t help but notice the amount of attention Joshua gets from the female population. Every woman is taking a double look at him, he doesn’t even seem to notice. I’m sure he is used to this. I however, am finding it a little annoying. I suppose it’s not every day you see a 6ft4 muscled up man whose chiselled jaw, olive skin and chocolate buzz cut hair screams Do Me. A pretty redhead shows us to our seat.
“Would you like to order some drinks?” She looks from me to him and back again.
“Yes I’ll have a tall Latte, double shot,” he smiles.
“I’ll have a skim cap please,” she scribbles on her pad and leaves us alone.
He rests his elbows on the table and links his hands together under his chin, waiting for me to speak first. His eyes have a mischievous glow to them.
“So Josh, tell me about your life?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “What do you want to know?”
“I hear you’re wealthy.”
He smiles, “In some things.”
I tilt my head on the side, “What do you mean?”
“Well, I have money. It depends on your definition of wealthy.”
“Oh, I suppose. What’s your definition?” I ask surprised.
He shrugs again. “Happily married, healthy kids.”
Smiling, I rest my chin on one hand while I find myself swooning at his feet. “Are you dating?” I ask.
He scrunches up his nose, “hell no.” Our drinks arrive and the waitress’s eyes linger a little long on Mr Orgasmic here, I narrow my eyes at her. Ok enough, buzz off.
“You,” I frown
“Huh.”
“Are you dating?” I ask.
“No, nothing like that. Mum told me you had a boyfriend.”
I nod a little embarrassed. “Umm ex-boyfriend,” I murmur.
“What happened? Why did you break up?”
I shrug. He smiles, “I see you’re still a shit liar.”
“I hoped you hadn’t heard about that,” I wince.
“What? Heard that some poor bastard asked you to marry him and you knocked him back and then dumped his sorry ass?”
I put my hands over my face in embarrassment. “It sounds cold when you put it like that.” I peek out from my hands to see him smirking at me.
“What happened?”
“We were never going to work out, I have never been so shocked in my life as the day he proposed. It was awful.” His thumb is under his chin and he is wiping the side of his pointer across his lips as he listens while leaning back in his chair, his gaze locked onto mine.
“Why wouldn’t you have worked out?”
“We weren’t………… compatible.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Compatible,” he repeats. Why did I say that? “You mean sexually,” his eyes darken with an emotion I’m familiar with. Arousal.
“Among other things,” I quickly add. I suddenly feel very uncomfortable. “Why aren’t you married?” I blurt out.
He smiles a slow sexy smile. “I haven’t found anyone who fits the job description.”
“What’s the job description?” I breathe. His eyes bore into mine with an intensity that heats my blood.
“Someone who fucks like a slut, with the morals of a nun.” I choke on my tea. Of all the things I thought he would say, that was definitely not it. I feel a familiar fission of uneasiness creeping up on me.
“You can’t be serious?” I gasp.
“Absolutely,” he nods as he takes a sip of his Latte, his eyes not leaving mine.
“You want to marry a slut?”
He nods again. “It depends what your definition of a slut is. What do you think a slut is?” he asks.
“Someone who will sleep with anyone,” I reply.
He nods and takes another sip of his Latte. “You see I think a slut is a woman who loves to fuck.” I swallow the large lump in my throat. His voice has dropped to a low husky sound, one that is screaming to my subconscious. He continues, “I couldn’t be with a mousy woman who doesn’t love to fuck as much as I do. I have an insatiable appetite for sex,” he licks his lips. “High maintenance so to speak.” His eyes burn into me once again, silently daring me to say something. His eyes drop to my lips. Want pools in my stomach. “The woman I marry will have to endure hours and hours of being tied up to our bed, legs spread wide while I pleasure her with my tongue and fuck her with my hands and then put up with me continually driving into her tight cunt with my cock so hard she won’t know where I end and she begins. Only to be rolled over and taken again from behind. Constantly. She would have to love taking me orally and vaginally and anally………… Repeatedly.” He gazes at me again and steeples his hands under his chin. For the love of god, my mouth has gone dry.
“Can I take your order love?” I jump, oh shit did she just hear that?
“Umm, bacon and eggs please, and an orange juice.” I am embarrassed and put my head down to hide my blush.
“I’ll have the same,” he smirks a sexy smile at me. Bloody hell. Ok my brain has fried. I can’t even speak as I visualize exactly what he has explained to me. Orally, vaginally and anally, shit. To me that sounds like the exact thing I might like to do today. Is he trying to drive me out of my frigging head, he’s not playing fair.
“So Precious.” My eyes snap up at the nickname he used to call me. “Do you know anyone that you could put up for an interview?” I scowl at him, he’s playing with me the bastard. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Yes I do actually.” I reply. Actually, no I don’t. Only me. I would rather cut off my left arm than put someone else up for that position. I scan my empty head for a witty comeback. Nope nothing, another 2am regret coming up.
“Are you purposely trying to turn me on?” I whisper.
“Is that what I’m doing?” His gaze bores into me, burning holes with its heat.
“Yes,” I whisper. “You know you are.” He inhales a deep breath through his nose as he leans back in his chair and rearranges his penis unashamedly in his pants. My eyes drop down to between his legs and I swallow a golf ball again. Ok, if he gets away from me today without giving me what I need, I am going to need sectioning myself tonight. “Why are you hard?” I can’t help myself I have to ask.
“I’m always hard when I talk about what I need in a wife.”
“You have this conversation often?” I’m offended.
“No first time,” he smiles.
I narrow my eyes. “Bastard,” I whisper. “Stop playing with me.” He smiles as he takes another sip of his Latte. Breakfast arrives and we eat in silence. He’s seemingly relaxed, I’m practically panting at the visuals in my pea brain. Tied to a bed. Damn, yes please. “So have you had any serious girlfriends?” He shakes his head as he takes another bite. “Why not?”
“I can’t be monogamous so,” he shrugs. “I guess it’s not fair.”
“Huh, what do you mean you can’t be monogamous?”
“I’ve never been with just one person.”
I frown. “What never?” he shakes his head again. “How do you? I mean what, so these girls you………mess around with know they are one of many?”
“Pretty much.” I stop eating and put my knife and fork down as I frown.
He smiles, “What’s wrong with that?”
“You’re a frigging pig.” I answer.
He shrugs. “I like to think I’m honest.”
“Seriously, so girls are happy to have you for half an hour and give you back?”
He puts his knife and fork down. “No, they get me for about four hours and when it’s over I have nothing in common with them and I don’t particularly want to spend time with them so I leave.”
I shake my head in disgust. “You know the way you just spoke about women makes me think I have absolutely nothing in common with you anymore.”
He looks offended, “Are you kidding?”
“What.”
“You think what I do is any worse than what you do?”
“What do I do?”
He rolls his eyes at me. “Make men fall in love with you so much so they want to marry you and then you dump them when you get bored. No thanks, I would rather do it my way. Like I said, at least I don’t hurt anyone,” he raises an eyebrow.
“I’m sure these girls get hurt,” I snap. Who in the hell does he think he is anyway, frigging Dirk Diggler?
“Trust me the kind of girls I go out with don’t expect more.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Can we just drop the subject because your mouth is seriously pissing me off?”
He smirks. “I thought you liked my mouth.”
“No actually, not any more. It’s a turn off to think how many women you’ve slept with.” He looks down and he butters his toast while he processes my words, but doesn’t say anything.
He stays silent as I finish my breakfast, I know the last line I have just thrown him has hurt his feelings but I couldn’t give a rat’s ass. There is no way in hell I’m going back there if that’s how much respect he has for girls he’s intimate with. That’s right, he doesn’t even know what intimacy is. Yuk!
“Let’s go,” I say as I finish the last of my coffee. I stand and head to the cashier, he follows and puts his hand on my lower back. I squirm away. He pays and I head to the car.
“Where are you going?” he calls after me.
I turn to look at him. “You can take me home now thanks,” I turn back towards the car. I lean on the side of his Audi my rear up against the door.
He leans on the car next to me. “Why are you mad?” he asks as he stares straight ahead.
“You have to ask?” I frown.
“Natasha I’m not monogamous because I haven’t found a girl I connected with.”
“Why not,” I ask.
He shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe I never will,” he gives me a weak smile. That does sound a little better than what he told me ten minutes ago.
“Why didn’t you just say that instead of being so seedy?”
He bumps his shoulder into mine. “You don’t like seedy?” he smirks.
“I hate seedy.” I bite my bottom lip to stifle my smile.
“Anyway I thought I was taking you pyjama shopping.”
“What’s wrong with my pyjamas?” I gasp.
“You have to ask?” he smiles as he throws my line back at me.
I narrow my eyes. “Ok but I’m picking, I want another flannelette pair.”
He feigns a disgusted face. “Flannelette,” he repeats. “I hate flannelette.”
“Well nobody sees my pyjamas and I like them,” I smile.
His face drops. “Why does nobody see your pyjamas?”
I shrug and peek up at him, hating myself for revealing so much information. “It seems I have the opposite problem to you Josh.” I quickly start to walk up the road. I am not having this conversation with him, how embarrassing. He doesn’t follow, he stands still and I know I’ve shocked him. I turn, “are you coming?” I yell out, he nods and starts toward me.
He reaches me and links his arm with mine as we turn the corner. “How long?” he blurts out.
“What,” I ask.
“How long,” he asks again.
I shake my head. “I’m not having this conversation with you Josh, forget it.”
“Natasha I need to know,” he stops still.
“Why?” I frown.
“I just do,” he repeats.
“Years Josh it’s been years.”
“Years,” he repeats. “Why has, I mean that’s not possible, I mean.” He stops again still. He looks at me all traces of amusement have left his face. I can’t help it, I giggle. “What,” he looks shocked. “What’s funny?”
“You are,” I answer.
“How am I funny?”
“Why are you so shocked I haven’t been with any one for a long time?”
“You had a boyfriend for years do you expect me to believe you didn’t sleep with him?”
“Believe what you want, you asked me.”
“Why,” he whispers. I shrug. “Tell me” he demands. I stay silent my eyes searching his. I want him to work this out for himself. He must know how I feel about him, surely he can’t be that stupid.
“Listen are you taking me shopping or not?” He nods, “just drop the twenty questions ok.”
He seems to regain his composure. “Ok,” he nods. “Where to?”
“I have to buy a dress for a wedding in three weeks.”
“Who’s wedding?”
“A girl I went to uni with. Actually, will you come with me?”
”What, to the wedding?” he frowns, I smile. “No I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he answers.
“Why not?”
“Because you know it’s not like that between us any more Tash.” Did he just really say that? I fake a smile and rearrange my shirt to hide my hurt.
“I know but we are friends aren’t we?”
He nods. “Yes, but that’s not what I meant.”
”I know what you meant. If you don’t want to come, I can ask Simon.”
His face drops. “You want to ask Syral.” I roll my eyes.
“It’s Simon. I’m sure he would love to pick up the slack,” I whisper. I’m wicked. I’m so playing him right now, come on baby take the bait. “Well if you won’t come with me as a friend then I’m sure he would come as a friend. You know what I mean. Pick up the slack, so to speak” I smile sweetly at him.
His voice drops several degrees. “Are you threatening me?”
“What do you mean?” I quickly duck into a Boutique to change the subject. Ok I’ve planted the seed lets watch it grow. He follows me and stands just to my left as I start to flick through the clothes on the rack. I can feel the heat radiating from his body. I inhale deeply, he sure does smell good. The idiodic shop girls jaw is on the ground as she stares, yes stares at my shopping companion. I turn back to see what she is looking at. Joshua is leaning up against a pole with his hands behind his posterior, his eyes are closed. He’s obviously tired. I smile, yes if I saw a god like him in a store I would stare too. He looks perfect and a disturbing thought enters my brain, I am totally punching above my weight here with him. Utterly gorgeous, crazy rich and so intense in the bedroom that he’d bring any woman with a pulse to her knees. Basically he could pick out any woman he wants. And here I am thinking I can make him jealous with Simon, frigging Simon the motor mouth. What am I thinking? He opens his eyes on a start and quickly looks around, I give him a broad smile. He shuffles his feet and returns his own beaming smile and mouths the words “Sorry tired.”