Chapter 47
After his usual run he returned home, had a shower, towelled himself dry with a vigorous rub and slipped on his robe.
He poured himself a cup of tea and sat down in the Chesterfield armchair by the picture window in the living room, ready for his daily Bach music fest.
‘Alexa, play the Goldberg Variations ,’ he said. The achingly perfect melody flooded his being and swept away the discords in his mind. Time for a heart to heart with the Voice.
‘So what am I going to do about Sophie?’ he asked himself. ‘How am I going to cross the bridge from friend to lover?’
Change your tune , the Voice replied. Sophie wants muscle . It’s not exactly sexy seeing you coked out of your mind like a gibbering wreck or wallowing in self-pity after that bitch Elizabeth ground you into the dust.
‘Okay, okay. There you go again. Why do you have to make me feel that I’m the only man in the world who’s ever had his heart broken?’
Because it’s going to be difficult to change the status quo unless you recognise your past behaviour. Being Mr Vulnerable is fine but it’s not a turn-on for someone like Sophie. You need to replace those pictures in her head.
For a moment Damien was distracted by the nocturnal scream of a vixen mating. Was Sophie a screamer? he wondered. ‘I really love her.’ Damien took a sip of tea and settled his head on the cushion, his eyes bright with thoughts of Sophie lying on his bed. Entwined together. Her head on his shoulder, both at rest after they’d made love.
Damien? Where are you? asked the Voice. Wake up! Would you like my advice, or not?
‘Yes! No need to shout. You’re giving me a headache.’ Damien massaged his temples. ‘I was just having a pleasant moment.’
Okay , the Voice continued. So show her your other side. Stop with the friendly-bro approach. Make it a date night. Dinner first and then on to a nightclub for a smooch. Fire her up. Then take her home and get that mojo working. No hesitation. When you’re in the zone, there’s no need to think.
YOU NEED TO ACT.
***
The night went well. 3 a.m. A last dance at Annabelle’s. So close, languidly swaying, his arms around her waist, Sophie nuzzling his neck, until there was no doubt.
And that kiss. It was as if it had always been there, hiding in the shadows.
Damien couldn’t hear the Voice, only his heart beating triumphantly as Sophie responded to his warmth.
No words.
Until finally she whispered, ‘Well, that’s a surprise. You’ve melted me.’
‘Let’s go home,’ he said taking her hand.
Synchronicity. He was ready and so was she. He carried her up the stairs to the bedroom and, laying her on the bed, lifted up her dress. She spread her legs.
He stroked her, softly at first, his fingers keeping pace with her arousal, moving faster as her breath quickened and her body grew taut; taking her to the edge, then he paused.
‘Ask me,’ he whispered.
‘Oh my God, please, Damien, don’t make me wait,’ she moaned. ‘I want all of you.’
And as he slowly entered her, the Voice whispered, No need for a threesome now , I’ll leave you to it.