Cold Feet

Chapter 7

VIOLA

He offers his arm and I link my arm through his. We wander away from the party into the gardens. There is still some time before the reception begins. I’m sure whatever he wishes to discuss will be over by then. Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

“It’s a lovely evening,” he says sounding as if he is observing something working exactly the way it should.

“I think it’s perfect,” I reply.

“Nearly perfect.” His remark tells me that he thinks something is missing.

“And what would make it perfect if I may ask?” I say looking up at him as we walk towards the beach.

“Getting to know you better,” he replies confidently.

I blush, thankful that it is night and there is little light for him to see how red my face is. My skin is a golden brown but despite its color, I’m sure he could see me blushing if there was enough light. Despite the cool breeze, I feel warmer than expected and I know it’s Rick’s remark and his closeness that is having this effect on me. What is wrong with you? No man has ever had this effect on me this quickly. I know I’m feeling like a little girl who has just been spoken to by her first high school crush. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I haven’t had someone in my life for a long time.

“Do you gatecrash weddings looking for women that you can charm and flirt with? Is that your strategy to find a girlfriend?” I tease.

He chuckles. “Not at all. I just happened to be invited to this wedding as a friend of a friend.”

“I had no idea that people were in the habit of inviting friends of friends to wedding receptions these days.”

Rick laughs. “Well, I’m glad I was invited otherwise I would never have met you.”

“Oh really?” I smile. “Tell me, does the hard sell really work with women for you?” I’m guessing it does. He’s so damn gorgeous. And while he’s straightforward and confident, he doesn’t come across as being arrogant.

“Is that what you call it?”

“Mm-hmm,” I reply.

“Well, then I must admit I don’t usually do the hard sell but tonight when I saw you, I thought I probably don’t have much time. You’re very busy with coordinating the wedding and, I might add, you’re doing an absolutely stellar job of it but I’m guessing that you walking with me right now is a luxury that you can scarcely afford unless you have someone who can hold the fort a while.”

“You seem to know me well,” I say glancing at him.

He stops and turns to look at me taking my hand in his with ease. If anyone saw us, they would easily think we were a couple. I am amazed at how he does not seem to think it might be considered creepy or think it might be crossing a line considering that we’ve only just met.

The truth is I don’t mind. As he holds my hand, I make no move to withdraw it from his. His hands are soft, and his touch gentle. His touch is setting my skin on fire and I don’t think a fire extinguisher can put out the fire between my thighs. His eyes, his voice, his smile are all so perfect and are all having an effect on me that no man has ever had.

“When I saw you tonight, I knew I had to get to know you better. I just felt … something. When our eyes met, I was drawn to you like a moth to a flame.”

“Careful then. You might get burned,” I tease.

“I somehow don’t think so,” he smiles. “I’m grateful you’re giving me this time and I don’t know how long we have so I’ll just come right out and say it.”

“Say what?”

“I want to see you again. I want to get to know you better. Will you give me your number?” As he asks, he releases my hand and he places his hand on my cheek. I lean into his touch. It’s warm. Comforting.

I say nothing but simply look into his eyes. He leans into me bringing his face to my level. Our noses touch. He is asking permission without saying a word. I don’t reply and he takes my silence as permission.

Our lips brush softly, briefly. It’s another request for permission. When he senses no resistance, his lips settle on mine and I hungrily clamp his lower lip between my teeth as I suck it. Our tongues clash and briefly battle for entry before we acknowledge we both want the same thing and they start to dance with our passion. Our breathing quickens as he pulls me close. He wraps his arms around me and I feel so safe and warm as if I am in a cocoon. I wrap my arms around him but my hands can’t join behind him. I let them roam up and down his back and I can feel his toned body under his shirt.

As our hands explore, I feel his desire pressing against me. I drop my hands to his waist and then to his ass and pull him closer increasing the pressure of him against me.

A soft moan escapes me. When I grab his ass, he quickly follows and his hands settle on my ass. They squeeze my ass cheeks and then massage them softly but firmly.

We eventually come up for air and I hastily look around wondering if anyone has seen us. I am beginning to feel guilty at being gone so long. He looks around too as if he senses my concern. He looks around again and in the next moment sweeps me off my feet.

I let out a surprised squeal and he quickly hushes me with his lips on mine.

Up ahead the path is lined by trees and he carries me through a gap in the trees on the left. A bigger tree stands behind the trees lining the path and he sets me down behind it out of sight of the path. Pressing me against the tree, he kisses me hungrily again. His hands are all over me and mine are all over him.

What are you doing? You don’t even know this man that well. My inner voice is talking non-stop, taken aback by my sudden recklessness. I don’t normally do this. No, wait. I never do this, have never done this. I’m living a little, I answer my inner voice. Now shut up!

Rick’s hands find the hem of my skirt. I feel his hands as they settle between my thighs. He ends our kiss and looks at me astounded.

“You little tart,” he whispers. “You’re soaking!”

“I… cannot… tell a lie,” I whisper with a smile.

It’s all it takes. He lifts my skirt over my ass and I feel the tree’s bark press against my ass briefly. His fingers find the elastic of my panties and pull them downward.

I don’t stop him. I don’t resist. I should be getting back to the reception but dammit, I can’t help myself right now. I have never been this hot for anyone in my life. There are so many elements right here that make me want this here and now.

We’re outside, we could be discovered, he is a handsome, confident, sexy stranger who could have anyone he wants but he wants me. This is so passionate. We hardly know each other but we want each other. There’s nothing to make us overthink this. It’s just a man and a woman giving in to their carnal desire.

He pulls my panties down and I step out of them as I rest my hands on his back. He straightens and holds up my white lace thong. It’s my favorite. It must be lucky.

I look from my panties to him and blush. He brings them to his nose and smells them. He inhales deeply and then lowers them as he looks at me.

“You smell so good,” he whispers. “I want you.” He moves closer and I let him. I want him. My walkie- talkie crackles sounding like a scream in the quiet darkness around us.

I grab it and key it.

“V here, go,” I say.

It’s Jessica. Her voice crackles over the walkie-talkie, “We need you at the reception.”

“I’m on my way,” I say.

Rick looks at me, his eyebrows raised.

I blush. “I have to go. Sorry.”

He holds up my panties, with a questioning look.

“Later,” I say as I straighten my skirt. “I need to get back…”

He pulls me to him and kisses me again quickly. “Don’t let me keep you. Maybe we can continue this after the wedding?”

“Maybe,” I say as I pull away and make my way back to the path. I feel the coolness of the night air and freedom now that I am commando. I have to admit that it feels good. You little slut, my inner voice says. I answer it and it falls silent, Yeah, you’re loving it as much as I am. You’re in the same body remember? I realize I’ll have to remember to be careful when I bend over and sit down. I can do that I tell myself.

I key the walkie-talkie as I walk briskly back to the reception. “What’s needed?” I ask. I never ask ‘what’s the problem?’ It has negative connotations and I am superstitious that it will bring bad luck and so I avoid referring to anything as a problem.

“Bar limit checkpoint,” my assistant replies.

Wow! I think to myself. This party is pumping. The bar limit checkpoint comes when eighty percent of the allocated budget had been reached. It is one of my standard operating procedures. When this point is reached, I seek approval to exceed the limit and confirm a new limit with whoever is footing the bill booze bill. I estimate the party still has at least two hours to go and there is no way the budget will last. There are a variety of options available to limit the cost and it’s time to speak to Trish’s father who is paying in this instance.

“Okay. I’ll get back to you,” I tell Jessica.