Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Flora
We sat on a long, soft, chenille sofa which was easily big enough to accommodate four adults.
We’d taken opposite ends of it after discussing films and music, and I think we both realised how late it was and for a few long seconds we each remained silent and stared at one another.
The truth was that whilst I knew we had been talking almost non-stop since he’d found me loitering near the back door, the details of what we’d said were a little sketchy.
That was almost certainly due to my slightly tipsy state, but I recalled banter and a suggestion of him being a bad boy.
Maurizio directed the conversation to the safer topic of the children. “Rosie and Craig are very fond of you,” he said, making me smile.
“I’m very fond of them, too. They really are a credit to you, and their mother.
” I was clearly intent on discussing the children’s mother tonight.
He looked quite relaxed at the mention of his ex-wife.
Was she his ex-wife or perhaps their divorce wasn’t quite finalised as they had split relatively recently.
Where was I going with these thoughts?
I watched him and I could have sworn he blushed at my words of praise for him.
“I don’t know that I should take the credit, not really, their mother and Bea, have done most of the raising.”
I continued to study his expression and was unsure if he was simply being honest or if it was something else.
How did he feel about that fact with hindsight?
Did he feel that the raising of the children had been the job of their mother and the nanny who was paid to fulfil that role?
Maybe, maybe not. Could it be guilt that I saw on his face, guilt for having not been as involved as he might have been in the children’s upbringing?
I reasoned to myself that as they were still only three, almost four, most of their upbringing was still to be done.
The silence hung between us. One of us needed to end it.
“Well, you seem very involved and hands on now, and no matter who has helped to raise them, they are lovely.”
My kind words caused a smile to light up his face, one I reciprocated as I nervously nursed my empty cup. Maurice looked at it in my hands. “Maybe next time we could do this with wine.”
Next time. I had no idea what that meant, next time. Did that mean the next time he sobered me up slightly after finding me drunk outside? Or did next time mean that he had enjoyed spending time with me and would like to do it again without me being tipsy beforehand?
“Next time,” I said, sounding flustered to my own ears, but quickly changed the topic to wine. “Do you know much about wine?” Without giving him chance to reply, I blustered on. “I know what I like and always tend to order or buy the same brand. That is where my wine knowledge starts and ends.”
He laughed. “Mine isn’t much better,” he admitted, somehow shocking me. “My brother fancies himself as a wine buff, whereas I know which wines I like and kind of understand which of those goes with what and I stick to that formula.”
“If it works,” I said with a smile. Him discussing his brother somehow pleased me. As if him choosing to share information about his family with me meant something. “I initially imagined you might be an only child with how dedicated your mother is.”
He laughed. “That’s one word for her, dedicated. However, I am not an only child. I have one brother, Nico and a sister. I am the baby of the family though. What about you? You mentioned a sister before . . . just the two of you?”
I nodded as I continued to nurse my cup. “Yes, just me and Maddie. I’m the baby too, by just under a year. We’re very close and best friends.”
He looked pleased at the knowledge that I had Maddie.
Maurizio was already closing the distance between us to relieve me of my cup. He paused, up on his knees on the cushion directly next to me.
“I, erm . . .” My voice trailed off, clueless in what I should say or do.
All I could think of was him closing the distance completely, until our bodies touched.
I closed my eyes, unsure if that was an attempt to block out my thoughts of him kissing me, pulling me closer and pressing his body into mine.
If I was being completely honest with myself, I would have acknowledged that the real reason for closing my eyes was to better visualise the images of my own fantasy of what might happen next.
After what felt like forever, I opened my eyes and was greeted by the sight of my boss frozen to the spot where I’d last seen him.
“Flora,” he whispered.
“Yes.” My voice was husky, something I’d never noticed before.
“This is a bad idea.”
He wasn’t wrong and I refused to deny it. I nodded. His face came closer, so close I could feel his breath caressing my cheek.
“Tell me to stop.”
I shook my head.
“Tell. Me. To. Stop.”
He repeated his request, plead, whatever it was, but it carried a very different undertone with his punctuation of each word.
Again, I shook my head. “I don’t want to.”
He nodded. “But you need to. You’ve had too much to drink . . .” His voice trailed off. He was right. I needed to make these decisions with a sober and focused mind, not a tipsy head and a desperate and needy body.
“I should go,” I managed to say, my words stammered, but before I moved, his hand reached up and his fingers stroked across my cheek. “Maurizio.” His name left my mouth on a moan as I moved closer.
“You should go.”
His fingers stroked lower until his thumb pressed into my lips, forcing them to part.
I landed a single kiss to it, and found myself roughly pulled against him, his hand moving until it fisted in my hair, while the other one held my hip, drawing me closer still, his arousal clear.
“Flora.”
I gazed into his eyes, already drunk and now at risk of becoming stoned on the aphrodisiac of him.
“You really should go.”
I nodded, and somehow got to my feet. I turned for the door.
“Goodnight, Flora. You really are sweet enough already.”
I laughed. I knew what he’d been thinking when I’d said that in the kitchen.
“And you really do have the best bum I have ever seen.”
He laughed as I left the room, and I heard him contradict that I hadn’t seen it. Yet.
I entered my rooms from the house and whilst more sober than I had been when I first returned, I was still a little merry meaning opening the door was something of a challenge, but a challenge that I overcame.
With the door open, I headed for the bathroom, shedding my clothes across the bedroom area as I went.
With my teeth brushed, I climbed into bed expecting to fall asleep quickly.
I didn’t. Sleep was elusive. I lay on my back, then moved from one side to the other, even resorting to lying on my front for a very short time.
All to no avail. I lay there wide awake with thoughts of my boss, his bum and just how sweet he might find me filling my mind.
Just the memory of his breath touching my face, the offer of a promise of a kiss ensured my breathing became rather rapid as my heart soared, and my sex became slick with arousal.
“Oh God!” I groaned, desperate for release, for his touch. Why did I drink tonight? If I’d remained sober, I could have made a rational decision. Right now I could be under Maurizio. God! I loved his name. We could be kissing, touching, fucking and coming. I could be coming with him inside me.
These thoughts were not helping my inability to sleep or my rising horniness. The fact that one of my hands was between my thighs and the other was stroking the flesh of my breast confirmed this.
Maybe this is what I needed and as I was flying solo, I could and would do this for myself.
With my lower hand teasing me from the outside, tormenting my own body, hinting at what might have happened, I focused on my breast, circular movements decreasing until I reached my nipple that I rolled then squeezed.
A low moan escaped me before I turned my attention to my other breast and briefly allowed a finger from my other hand to dip into my wetness that I spread along my length, avoiding my clit, needing to make this last. With my breathing coming fast, my legs spreading farther and farther apart, and my finger sliding inside my body, I wasn’t sure how long I’d be capable of making it last.