Chapter 4
HARRISON
As I stand in the wind with my takeaway coffee, I check my Breitling watch. I inherited it from my grandfather, but it is still in good form, just like my sex skills. The same skills that now go into hibernation.
I make my calculations, and he is late. Ten minutes late. I pull my cell and check for messages.
I pace, looking up at the clouds. The weather is strange, it rained half the night again.
As I message him my new street location, I consider returning to the hotel.
I’m still unsure if I should have left a message. She deserved more. She really was unique. I rarely feel so comfortable talking to and sleeping with strangers in a bed.
She was also uncomplicated and in no way a gold digger.
It was clear she was not trying to impress; she was just being herself, and that felt real.
As I look down the street, I sip the strong black coffee. I consider walking back and getting her number.
I tell myself to control my urges. Keeping my sex drive in check is key, and I also made a pact a year back. Two years off, and then I will start dating again.
I have a complex job to do, and sex of any kind will distract me, or mess it up. Mess it all up.
I lift my collar and step under a large tree as the sun tries to rise. I close my eyes, feeling the sun on my face. I think of her, and her shattering below me.
“Thanks for the message, dick!”
I turn, open my eyes, and my jaw clenches. “Oh, shit.”
I watch her walk towards me with her own takeout coffee. My god, she is well put together. And sassy.
“My message was left inside you,” I say, pushing my luck, but immediately knowing I’ve said the wrong thing.
“Not bad, funny guy. I guess you fuck like that all the time.”
We stare each other out. She has a right to give me a hard time. I finally shake my head and cave. “Look, I’m sorry, I’m—”
“No! Lemme guess,” she cuts in. “'I’m unavailable', 'I’m emotionally stunted'. No, 'I do this all the time' or, ‘I’m married.'”
“Are you finished?” I ask as she puts her hands on her curvy hips.
“Yes, no.”
I step towards her, and she lifts her chin defiantly. It’s hot. Like her.
The energy between us is electric again, and it’s almost as if we’re back in the hotel suite.
“Actually,” I jump in fast, “you, us, it was special, but I’m not really able to get into…”
Suddenly, she gives me bullshit eyes. Screw her, I don’t owe her anything. I can, however, push her buttons.
“Okay then,” I say. “Let’s get married!”
“What the fuck!” she huffs, mouth open.
“Oh, so who is now unable to commit?”
She stands a little closer. I do, too. Our small-town stormy sunrise stand-off gathers attention. A few locals with dogs and newspapers gather.
“Look, thanks for the proposal, but I know nothing about you,” she says. “Maybe on the third date. If you’re good.”
I loathe myself for letting a smile slip out.
“There is, however, one thing,” she says.
“Being?” I ask, an eyebrow up.
“You and your fetish. You’re a little sick, keeping my panties.”
“Hey, I warned you I was far from normal,” I say low, wanting that confidential.
“Yeah, I have a fair idea, pretty boy.”
“How’s that?” I growl, giving her my best let’s-rumble look.
“I remember how you made me come.”
I don’t like that because I’m getting hard again. I groan, and my jaw tightens.
“Panties,” she demands, extending a hand.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She watches me closely, and I lean in and whisper, “Anyway, you’ve had them long enough.”
“Want me to call the police?”
“Right!” I say, crossing my thick arms and trying to speak low.
“Try me.”
Just as our hot eye-fuck stand-off peaks, the universe messes with us. An extra strong wind gust topples a nearby tree, and she staggers in the wind.
I hold her up as leaves blast across the street. We keep staring at each other while the spectators run for cover. It’s time to get indoors, and it’s time to move fast.
“Look, you need to get somewhere safe,” I growl.
“What, so no one steals my bra?”
“Funny, but seriously!”
Before she can answer, my Bentley ride pulls up. I am about to ask her where she wants to be dropped off when she runs through the storm.
I shake my head and mumble. I then hear an electric window. “Sir?”
I head for the dark blue Bentley and William, and I climb in. William is my old, trusted driver, and as always, he is dressed in a suit.
William is my aide-de-camp, my man Friday, he does everything for me. That includes handling gardeners, estate accountants, and the small army of staff and contractors.
Before, he had run my family’s estate, and now it is just mine.
“A new friend?” William asks, getting us on the road and fast.
I am still distracted by her running and disappearing into the storm.
“Something like that.”
I look in the mirror, remembering she is panty-less.
Taking a mental snapshot of her running tight denim-clad butt, I know it will be an image I’ll never forget.
Just like her eyes and her face when she came.
We drive on, and William turns to me. “Friends are good, Master Harry.”
I feel William’s wise old eyes on me, and it’s time again to lay it down. “I’ll always be a recluse, William. I like it that way.”
Inhaling, I look at the mayhem the storm is creating. Branches are broken, leaves are flying, and the odd tree is down.
The universe is chaos and it’s important to control it. Or be controlled.