The Architect (5 page)

“The Coffee House?”

“Yeah, that's the one.”

The corners of his lips lift. “It's a date.”

Pulling up at the bottom of my street, he asks if he can drop me to my house this time.

Still feeling a bit uncomfortable about letting him know my exact address, I tell him I'll walk it from here. He takes it on the chin and gives me a long gentle kiss goodbye before I get out. As he speeds off in his dark grey Audi, I notice the number plate for the first time. B3 KLY. I chuckle, Berkley, my God he's one hot guy. Even his car screams ‘shag me' with its personalised number plate and evil-looking headlights.

Back indoors, I slip into my tracksuit bottoms and a baggy white T-shirt before pottering about and doing my usual housework. After straightening the house and having lunch, I settle down to read my book. I read the first paragraph, but I can't concentrate. My mind is all over Heath and the feelings he caused inside me last night when he sucked my toes, and slapped my arse.

I grab my phone and compose a text telling him how horny he makes me, but I don't send it. I hover my thumb above the send button a dozen times throughout the day but I bottle it, and I don't hear from him until gone 9pm when he sends a brief message.

Goodnight bad girl. See you tomorrow. H x

I'm a tad frustrated to see that it's not the start of a conversation, but I text the same back, without the ‘bad girl', and take myself off to bed.

Chapter Seven

First thoughts as I come to from my recharge this morning are of Heath and his car pulling away yesterday. Realising that it's Monday and it's back to work, I peek at the clock on the bedside table and bring my arm out from the duvet just in time to cut the alarm off before it sounds.

I do my usual weekday routine of shower, attire, coffee, breakfast and book, and then head off to work.

Sitting behind the desk alone, firing up my computer, I wait for Liz to show her face. I hope she has a tale to tell, so I can share mine with her. She strolls in twenty minutes late and thumps down in the chair next to me after acknowledging me with a nod.

Swivelling side to side on my chair as I think about Heath, trying to push Liz into asking why I'm so happy, it finally works.

“You're looking pretty chirpy this morning,” Liz reports with a naughty smile.

“Well,” I give her a mischievous curl of the lip, “I'm feeling pretty chirpy.”

She rolls her office chair closer to mine. “Come on, Ruth, spill the beans.” She nudges me. “I haven't seen you like this in ages.” She halts. “In fact, in the three years I've known you, I've never seen you like this.”

Wanting to rush my words out at one hundred miles an hour, I steady my thoughts and tell her all about Heath. She listens attentively and for once is quiet as I very tastefully describe our initial meeting at the jazz bar, our subsequent rendezvous, and how hot he is in and out of the bedroom.

“Wow, where's this bar?” she jokes. “When are you seeing him again?”

“I'm meeting him for lunch today,” I boast.

“Lucky devil,” she utters as she pushes her chair back to its common place, and deals with a man the other side of our desk.

After dealing with the patient she rolls back over, and we continue to gossip when possible until one o'clock arrives.

Deciding to walk to the café and help lower my carbon footprint, I hastily make my way over. Crossing the busy street on the zebra crossing I spot his car outside and casually clip clop over in my shoes, which I changed from flats to heels before leaving. Glancing through his tinted windscreen to find him absent, I head into the shop. Stepping inside and immediately picking up his manly scent that drives my mind into a spin, I inspect the room and partly follow my nose to find him sat at the back, in a low brown leather chair, doing something on his phone.

He spots me, stands, and heads my way. In the seconds it takes for him to reach me I take in as much of him as I can. He's in a suit again. This time it's light grey. His shirt is white, and he's not wearing a tie. My gaze strays down as if being pulled by a magnetic force. I struggle to meet his eyes.

“Afternoon, gorgeous.” He kisses my cheek.

“Afternoon,” I return, before I follow him back to where he was seated.

He adjusts his trousers as he sits, and I eye his package again before taking the seat opposite and asking how his day has been.

“Not too bad, thanks, yours?”

Aching to tell him that I've told Liz all about him and how sexy he is, I instead respond with something much more boring. “Yeah, it's been okay.”

“Good, now what can I get you?”

I pull my sideways-lip thinking face as I ponder. “A cappuccino would be nice.”

I thank him as he stands to go and order, and watch as he struts towards the counter. His arse is hidden by his jacket and his broad shoulders scream ‘scratch me' as the fabric tightens around them when he puts his hand into his inside pocket to retrieve his wallet.

He brings my drink over and drops back into his chair. “Have you been thinking about me?” He grins cheekily.

I smile with my lips on the edge of my mug. “Yes I have, as a matter of fact.”

He leans forward over the square wooden coffee table. “And what is it you've been thinking?”

“Honestly?” I mirror his position. “I've been thinking about you sucking my toes and spanking me.”

He shuffles in his chair and gives me a raise of the eyebrows. “You have, huh?”

I nod as I take a cube of sugar, plop it into my drink, and stir.

“Me too, in fact it's the only thing I've been thinking about. That, and your great arse.”

I try to concentrate on my stirring in hope that my reddened cheeks soon return to their normal ivory.

“Do you like that kind of thing?” he asks.

I frown as I ponder the answer to his question. I look up at him. “Yeah, I suppose I do.”

“Really? Have you done a lot of that stuff before?”

I tell him I haven't, because truth be told I haven't really, not without stopping half way through or giggling. Anyway, I don't want to get into the whole conversation about what I've tried and haven't.

He picks up his coffee, then chuckles.

“What are you laughing at, you bad man?”

“At me.” He grins. “I don't know what came over me. I just saw your pert arse and had to give it a whack. You didn't mind, did you?” He takes a swig with his eyes glued to me, waiting for my reply.

“Did it look like I minded?” I give him a sultry pout. “Actually, the first slap shocked me because I wasn't expecting it, but no, I didn't mind. I found it quite erotic, actually.”

His ears prick up like a dog that's just heard its food bowl hit the floor. “Elaborate on that last bit for me.”

Suddenly becoming a little coy and realising that we might be overheard, I give him a disapproving look, then glance around the coffee shop. There are at least a dozen people in here and some are in close proximity.

I nod towards a couple of girls sat a few feet away from us. “I can't now, can I?”

“Why?”

I gesture with my eyes back to the two blondes, and he leans in closer while indicating with his head for me to do the same. “They can't hear if you whisper.”

I tilt my head in disapproval before giving in. “It made me wet when you spanked me, and it makes me wet when I think about it.” I smile against his ear and he stays there practically pleading for more info, so I feed his appetite a little more. “And I loved it when you sucked my toes, and played with my feet.”

He turns back to face me, and kisses me hard on the mouth before reclining in the opulent chair, adjusting his trousers that have become much tighter in the crotch.

“Well, Miss Watson, I'm very pleased to hear that.”

How the hell does he know my last name?
I rewind back as far as my memory will allow and try to pinpoint the moment I told him my name. I know I told him my name was Ruth after he introduced himself, but I can't for the life of me remember telling him my surname.

A troubled look must have shaped my face, because he asks me what's wrong.

“How do you know my name's Watson?”

He pulls an amused face. “Seriously?”

I nod and his gaze moves down to my breasts before he continues. “It's written on that very lucky piece of metal sat on top of that delicious looking swell of your shirt.”

I glance down to see my work name badge. “Oh right.” I laugh. “For a moment there I thought you were a stalker or something.”

His eyebrows dome. “Would you really mind if I was?”

Would I mind, is he joking? Hell no, I wouldn't mind. I'd deliberately stand and get changed in front of the window, pulling my top off slowly and sensually, exposing my bra, while swaying my hips to some sexy music.

I take a sip of my beverage and look up at him before I change the subject. “So how long are you here for?”

He huffs, then smiles. “I love the way you avoid questions. I'm here for another three weeks, and then I'm off to the Highlands to oversee a project.”

I utter a disappointed, “Three weeks?” as I whirl the liquid around in my mug.

“You almost sound sad.”

I am. As desperate and teenager-like as it might sound, I think I'm falling for him already.

I peer at him from under my thick black lashes. “Not sad, just pondering on what kinds of stuff we can cram into three weeks.”

With one side of his mouth kinked, he replies, “I'm sure there are lots of things we can stuff in.”

I take it as another one of his naughty little innuendoes and smile. A sudden buzzing in my pocket makes me jump. Taking my mobile out, I frown. It's my sister, Sally. She hardly ever calls, and she couldn't have picked a worse time, but I excuse myself and answer as I head for the door of the café. We have a brief conversation before I guilefully tell her I'm busy at work, and we arrange to Skype tonight at eight and catch up properly, as we do periodically.

Heading back to Heath, I apologise and tell him it was just my sister wanting a chat before I sit back in the warm, bum-dented chair. He looks thrown as I wriggle to get comfortable, so I ask him what the baffled look is for.

“I thought you said last night that you had nothing to do with your family?”

He looks genuinely interested so I explain. “I actually said I don't see them, but you're right, I don't have anything to do with them, apart from my sister.” I pause and observe him and he nods as if to say carry on, so I do. “I haven't seen my mum since I was five, my dad is dead, and I've had nothing to do with my stepmother since she kicked me out of the family home when I was eighteen.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” He reaches out for my hand with a concerned look, and I promptly let him have it.

“I'm okay,” I reassure him. “It's all in the past and I'm over it,” I lie.

He looks down at my hand and nods.

Changing the subject, and quickly, so I don't bring the dark cloud of gloom over our table, I squeeze his hand and ask when our next date is.

He's instantly back in the room and twinkling in the eyes again. “How does Friday sound?”

Oh my God, I have to wait all week? Is he serious
? Holding back my frustration I reply, “Perfect.”

He beams, then looks down at his gleaming silver watch before asking me what time I need to be back at work.

“Two o'clock.”

“I best get you back then. Don't want you getting into trouble.”

Offering me a ride as we step out onto the high street, I accept, and he opens the car door for me before I take the familiar seat and watch him take his. I scan him from head to toe as he checks his mirrors and pulls away with a roar from his super-fast engine.

As he slides the gears back and forth, my clit tingles, and my imagination takes over. I visualize his spunk invading my body like the petrol flooding the pipes and the motor. Suddenly, I'm interrupted by a warm hand on my thigh. “Which way am I going, darling?”

“Oh sorry, totally forgot you didn't know the way. Right here and then it's the...” I count the roads in my head, “third left.”

We pull into the car park and I give my little car a smile before I point Liz out to Heath as she heads around the back of the surgery, for what I suspect to be a quick fag. He looks her way three or four times and grins, then parks up out of view from the surgery doors and Fag Ash Liz.

“So where would you like to go on Friday?” I ask as I pick my bag up from his immaculate Audi floor.

“Shall we play it by ear? I don't really know what's around anymore.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” I kiss him on the cheek, open the car door and step out as I say, “Or we could just see who can find the kinkiest place?”

I close the door to ensure he doesn't have time to answer, and wiggle away, smiling to myself.

His engine purrs next to me as I cross the car park, and I hear his window open. I look to my left to see him leant with his elbow out the window, peering at me from over his dark shades. He smiles. “You're on.” Then he winks, before pushing the sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and racing off in his sexy car.

My core aches at the sheer coolness of this man; he's everything a girl could want, he's sexy, he's naughty, he's got a great arse, he's independent, he's sexy... did I mention that already?

“Ruthie!”

Shit, she's seen me! And, more annoyingly, interfered with my perving. I halt and turn in the direction of the shouting.

“Wait for me,” Liz calls as she blows the last of the lung-blackening smoke from her mouth.

I wait for her to catch me up, and we walk in together while she questions me about my lunch date. I tell her it was nice and asked if she got a glimpse of him, but she didn't.

Back behind the reception desk, answering inquiries and checking people in, I contemplate a night of kink. I have no idea what to do, and come up with only one possibility, and that is to turn up to his hotel room dressed in a long coat, concealing a combination of tight latex and rubber. I make a plan to get home soon after my shift, and research using good old Google.