Freya North 3-Book Collection: Secrets, Chances, Rumours. Freya North

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      ‘Shall we go?’

      ‘Go where?’

      ‘Back to mine?’

      Her mouth was twitching again, she could sense it.

      ‘There's a bottle of white in the fridge,’ he said as if surely that could seal the deal.

      ‘I mustn't be too late.’

      ‘Just a glass of vino back at mine, Tess, not a pyjama party.’

      A compact, modern, second-floor apartment on the other side of town.

      ‘Furniture isn't mine.’

      She didn't think it was.

      ‘It's all in with the rent. Not bad really.’

      Bathroom could be cleaner. Yesterday's paper open on the sofa. An odd shoe, kicked off in front of the TV set. Washing-up to be done. The housekeeper in her thought, he could make more of an effort. The girl in her said, he's a boy! give him a break! so what if there's a lads’ mag peeping out from under that chair and a Little Britain DVD out of its case on top of the speaker? Then she thought, that's an unopened bottle of wine and it isn't plonk. She rather thought he'd put it in the fridge with a wink and a wish before he came out tonight. She told herself, you're on a date, he asked you and in his own sweet way, he's planned for the evening to unfold.

      ‘It's nothing like your place,’ Seb was saying, motioning her to the sofa while he set two glasses of wine on the coffee table, ‘but it's home.’

      ‘It's not my place,’ Tess said, because she didn't want to be distracted by thoughts of that beautiful old building, of Em and Lisa and Wolf. Joe. She needed to concentrate on the veneer coffee table and the very white mantelpiece that surrounded no fireplace, only a slab of marble. This was her, here and now, and if she didn't make the most of it, what would have been the point of Lisa's skirt and Tess's sheaves of notes and the lipstick and the hairdo and finally, finally, making it out all on her own. ‘Cheers.’

      ‘Cheers.’

      They sipped self-consciously and Tess glanced around for a clock.

      ‘I mustn't be late.’

      ‘You won't be. It's only a ten-minute walk.’

      ‘Fifteen after all the wine I've consumed!’

      ‘You drunken slag,’ Seb teased and it made Tess giggle which made Seb think, now's my chance and he put their wineglasses down and reached for her. His mouth found hers and his hands honed in on what they'd fancied all evening long. Tess liked the way he kissed, the way he sucked her lips, she liked the taste of another tongue and the way it rudely probed her mouth as if asking personal questions. The feeling of her breasts being fondled was tantalizing and she found herself thinking, you can use your mouth, Seb, if you want to. He took her hand and led it down to the bulge in his trousers and though initially he had to grip her wrist and move it for her, when he let go she continued. The reality of a stiff cock was suddenly exciting to her and she felt her hips starting to gyrate instinctively. His hands were travelling up her thighs, politely spending non-focused attention there before surreptitiously working her tights down.

      ‘Oh, for fuck's sake,’ he said, laughing, as he hoicked her legs akimbo and peeled her tights away. Suddenly, he was pressing his mouth against the gusset of her pants and inhaling ravenously. Tess felt strangely paralysed, her body saying, yes please, more; her head saying, you really should be going now. It was like reading a book at bedtime, looking ahead for a convenient place to fold the corner of a page and call it a night. But, just like an easy read, she kept passing over line breaks and full stops for others further on. One more kiss, then I'll go. Actually, I'll just take my bra off – just for a minute or two. But actually, he's fingering around inside my knickers and – God, that feels good. Perhaps it would be really nice to come before I go.

      He had a finger pulling her knicker elastic aside, his tongue slipping into the space this created, his tongue licking through the folds of her sex, dabbing at her, lapping her up. She didn't want to look at the ceiling and turning her face one way gave the disruption of the TV set on with the volume off. Turning the other gave her a faceful of pastel swirls of the upholstery. But if she looked down, she saw a blond, tousle-haired man called Seb busy with his tongue between her legs and that sight was too specific. She shut her eyes to focus on the feeling alone. She just wanted to concentrate on the tremors building in her body from her sex being licked so well. Was it horribly self-serving to close her eyes so that it didn't matter who was doing it? By now, she just wanted to come, to have a man make her come, to come on the mouth of a man.

      Her hips were rocking hard to facilitate her orgasm which came in a gush of such intense pleasure that it wracked her body and her voice rang out in the soundless room.

      And then it all ebbed away. The throbbing, the sound of her, the presence of him.

      ‘You can open your eyes now,’ Seb laughed but it took effort for Tess to unscrunch them. When she did, she needed to concentrate on the buttons of his shirt. She didn't want the bigger picture. She wanted, really, to leave. She felt emotional, a bit drunk, confused how her body could have been so sure when her mind was still wanting to mull it all over.

      Black buttons on a navy blue shirt.

      ‘My turn?’ He sounded shy, hopeful. The thought hadn't crossed her mind.

      And Seb was suddenly straddling her, unbuckling, unzipping, whipping it out.

      How long since she saw a cock? The sight of it, of Seb's strong surfer's legs, of the way he was breathing, stroking her hair, grabbing her pony-tail, helped to put thoughts of heading home to one side. She played with his balls and fingered the length of him, kissing her way up the shaft, and tongue-flicked lightly over the top before taking him in her mouth, sucking him all the way down. She shifted so that she could use her hands too but she couldn't get comfortable. Her neck was a bit cricked and her jaw was locking and when she opened her eyes she saw her shoes and suddenly she longed to be on her way. Come on, come on. Come.

      ‘Can I come in your mouth?’

      No, Tess thought suddenly. I do not want you to come in my mouth.

      She pulled away, hoping for the sake of her conscience and his ego that she looked a little bashful, apologetic.

      ‘That's OK,’ he was saying. ‘I guess a full-on shag is out, then?’

      She giggled. Dear Seb, so easygoing, funny, kind. She wished she felt more.

      He sank back into the sofa and drew her to his chest. She watched his hand slide up and down his shaft. She tiptoed her fingertips over his stomach and down to his arm and along his hand, which he gladly accepted. He was close so she took over. He was clenching his fists and his teeth, his eyes screwed shut, his legs tensing, his pelvis thrusting as he spurted over his stomach.

      He panted with the triumph of having just run some race. He pulled her to his chest and stroked her hair. She listened to his heart beating fast, then settling.

      ‘When can I see you again?’

      He was looking down at her, his gaze intense.

      Tess suddenly felt enormously tired, too tired to think about the answer so she nodded and smiled and let him kiss her

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