her long hair shone gold, soft curls framing her oval face. Her full lips, lightly tinted with a peach-colored lipstick, went well with her green eyes, fringed with thick dark lashes…
her green eyes darkened with anger and unease; in a breaking voice she said: “I do not have the honor of knowing you”…
yielding to a sudden impulse, she sprang to her feet…
before her stood a tall, trim, remarkably handsome man in his early thirties, though a light touch of gray in his impeccably groomed hair made him look older…
an imposing man, in whom one sensed a hidden passion. Smiling, he flashed a set of even white teeth. They could hardly have been otherwise: everything about him was perfection…
her green eyes flashed with fury, she shot him a withering glance…
the implacable hatred in her eyes gave way to a look of disdainful contempt…
she exclaimed hotly: “How dare you!”…
her eyes narrowed menacingly…
her voice faltered, and to hide her embarrassment she stared gloomily down at her knees…
she shook her head morosely…
he glanced sideways at her and laughed good-naturedly…
swaying with her whole body, she murmured: “Oh, leave it”…
his lingering gaze slid from the painting on the wall to her sculpted figure and lingered on her slender legs…
involuntarily tensed at his closeness…
a hot blush flooded her cheeks…
she felt her heart pounding deafeningly…
the feelings overwhelming her…
a powerful sexual tension thickened the air, made it dense and hot. The air grew so charged with the current running between them that it became hard to breathe. She couldn’t bear his intent gaze and turned away in confusion…
he put his arm around her waist and drew her gently to him. There was no fierce passion in the gesture, only careful tenderness. A delicious languor overcame her, her head spun, she felt nothing but the sweet touch of his lips. She caught the faint scent of an exquisite cologne.
he kissed the way no one had ever kissed her: with an enormous tenderness in which one could feel a suppressed passion, as though he were afraid of frightening her off…
she flushed with pleasure…
merry sparks danced in his eyes…
“wait,” she murmured…
a slight vexation pricked at her heart…
he sadly told her his story…
she sadly told him her story…
a muffled groan tore from his chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, and pressed his lips to her half-parted mouth. Never had anyone kissed her like that before, never had a kiss given her such pleasure…
the pressure of his lips softened. She melted against him, dissolving into sweet bliss, and answered the kiss with ardor. He stroked her back, drew the comb from her hair, and it spilled over her shoulders in a golden rain.
he touched his lips to her fragrant locks and pressed again to her waiting mouth. The zipper on her dress crept down, cool air brushed her bared back. She did not resist. He slid her dress from her shoulders, bent, and touched the satin skin of her breast. She had never known a more exquisite sensation in her entire life. His tongue found her nipples, swollen with desire. When their lips met again, she forgot everything else. He, without breaking from her mouth, pulled the dress back up over her shoulders. The warm silk warmed the skin of her back, the zipper closed with a quiet rustle. He took her delicate face in his hands, kissed her astonished eyes, and said:
— Baby, I forgot my cash.
— No money — no sex.
— Some other time, then. Bye, baby.
— Bye…
— Any chance of a discount?