Sold (Double Delights 1)

“I know, I saw you all dressed up remember?”

“Ah, that you did!”

“Well, I was checking in because despite my offering you coffee, you haven’t taken me up on it. I sat in my apartment thinking I could either get really down about it and feel rejected or, I could come ask you again. So, would you like a coffee sometime?”

“I can do one better, Haley and Kayla are out. If you don’t mind me being in my robe and pjs, I have wine that I’m willing to share?”

“Perfect.” He smiled.

I stood back and let him in.

“Just kick your shoes off anywhere and excuse the mess. We work hard, play hard but don’t clean hard I’m afraid.”

I watched Brandon look around the apartment. Thank goodness it was littered with magazines and nail polishes and not our underwear.

“I have two sisters. It reminds me of home.”

I got the bottle of wine and two glasses and we got to know each other, chatting about our backgrounds and families. He was easy to talk with and by the time a couple of hours had passed I felt like I had known him for years. Of course he was also easy on the eyes and as the wine had gone down, he had gotten sexier and sexier. I kept thinking of my fantasy from earlier in the week and started blushing.

“Look at you, wine makes your face flush. You’re all pink.” Brandon leaned over and touched my cheek. “Your cheeks are burning!”

Of course I blushed even more then.

“Stop tormenting me. You’re making it worse.”

“Hmmm, is it the wine, or are you enjoying my hot gym body? Is that it?”

I must have been almost a dark shade of red by now and I hid my face in my hands.

He grabbed my hands and moved them away. “Hey, I’m sorry. I was having a little fun. I don’t handle wine well obviously, I’m used to beer. I hope, I didn’t offend you?”

“No, not at all.” I laughed.

“What’s funny?”

“Well now I want to kno

w if you do have a hot gym body, or if under those clothes you look like Mr. Bean.”

He dropped his jaw in mock offence. “How dare you question my gym bod. Do you know how many women would love to spend the evening with it?”

“Sorry, I think you’re going to have to show me.”

What the fuck have I just said? What is wrong with me? I’ve become a fucking slut.

He lifted his sweater and tee and pulled them off over his head. I gasped in shock as tanned, taut skin was revealed. He had an eight pack. From his neck down over his pec at the left hand side was a tattoo of a steampunk style clock. His arms were threaded muscle and he looked like he could lift me with just one of them. I stared down the sleeve of tattoos on his left arm: skulls, stars with writing in them, a series of interlocking gears. He was lean but oh so solid. I reached over and ran my hands down his chest. He watched as I trailed my palms down him, all the way down to his lower abdomen and then back up.

He swallowed audibly. Then he caught my hand.

“Sorry.” I shook my head. “It’s the wine. I’m not usually like this. God, I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to think the wrong thing.”

“I think I’m in an apartment with a sexy as fuck woman and she just asked me to strip and touched my chest. I’m wondering whether to go and splash my face with cold water because I’ve got to be dreaming. Can I try something?” He asked.

I nodded. “Sure.”

He sat on the couch at the side of me and leaned in. His mouth crashed on mine. Warmth seeped through my lips, and my mouth opened to accept his tongue. I tasted the wine on him. I kissed him back hard and we launched into a frenzy of movement. My hands stroked his chest again. His hand slipped inside my robe and under my top, grasping one of my boobs.

“Jesus, your tits. Let me see them.”