A Sentimental Heart
Chapter 12

Copyright© 2011 by angie65

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 12 - A cool head against a warm heart; which will win out in the end?

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Romantic   Heterosexual  

He tenderly kissed her skin, loving how she squirmed and groaned in his arms.

His tongue delicately tasted her and she shivered and whimpered.

She had invited him into her home knowing full well that she was inviting him to make love to her, and the urgency she seemed to be feeling was intoxicating to him.

That she could seem so desperate for his touch!

"Oh yes Marcus!" she gasped out suddenly, "Yessss touch me there – like that!" she hissed.

She threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged savagely.

"I need you Marcus ... I ... need you inside me!"

And of course he was only too happy to oblige.

He spent hours lost in Miranda, separate from his troubles and his worries.

But of course it could not last.

He sat on the edge of her bed and slowly dressed, while Miranda lay watching him.

"Don't get up," he smiled crookedly. "Lie there, and try to go back to sleep ... I'll let myself out, and drop the catch as I go."

"But I want to see you out, to say goodnight to you properly." She pouted playfully, but there was an edge of sadness to her that transferred to him.

He shrugged into his jacket and leaned over her.

"Say goodnight to me now, say it properly," he invited huskily.

She lay there for a moment staring up with her darkened blue eyes, she seemed to be memorising his features – as though she thought she might never see him again.

His breath pulled in sharply at the idea of them never seeing each other again, and slowly he let out a painful breath.

Miranda lay there savouring the warmth of his breath as it fanned over her – if only she could bottle him, keep a part of him with her for always.

She felt a little tear at the corner of her eye and reached up to wrap her arms tightly around his neck, and kissed him hungrily on the lips.

Marcus, accepted her onslaught with pleasure, and a freshly rising passion, but he knew that if he did not leave her now – he would be in serious danger of not wanting to leave her at all ... not ever!

He gently pushed her back down onto the bed and stood up quickly.

"I really need to leave, you need to get some rest and I've things that I need to do before work tomorrow..."

"Is there anything that I can do to help you?" she asked eagerly, and his smile made her heart soar – only to plummet, when his frown wiped it away again.

"It's a personal thing ... I don't want our working relationship to blur into our private lives..." he was thinking how stupid that sounded even as he said it, but to the insecure woman lying on the bed – trying to read his expression, and meanings into every word spoken – it was as though he was sending her another message entirely.

He was letting her know that what happened in this bedroom – was to stay in this bedroom; that when they went into work he was her employer – and nothing more.

"You should get going then," she told him sadly. "You need to rest too, and the night is wearing on."

He thought that she sounded tired, sleepily tired and so walked quickly to the door, resisting the almost overpowering urge to crawl back under the covers and snuggle up to her.

"Good night Miranda," he whispered softly before leaving the room.

"I love you," Miranda murmured to the closed door.

She heard him leave the house and a moment later his car engine roared to life, and then faded away again, as he drove home.

Miranda rolled onto her side and closed her eyes determinedly – tomorrow she would pop into the local job centre and apply for anything that might seem suitable.

It took her a little while but she was very tired and so sleep did eventually come and the night wore on.

Marcus let himself into his flat and made straight for the shower, he could still smell Miranda's scent on him and although he would have loved nothing more than to go to his bed smelling of her – he knew that he needed to get some sleep, and that that would be impossible if all he could think of was her. As though a shower could wash her away!

He knew that his feelings for her had developed into something more than just friendship – or lust.

He knew that he wanted to take their relationship to another level – and make it known to their families, he would talk to her and tell her how he felt about her, he would be honest and sincere, and she would be happy.

He pictured her smile, and that look she often gave him – her eyes softening with the love that she had declared. And the glow that seemed to start somewhere deep inside her, and build and grow until it seemed that it needed to shine out – otherwise she'd be in danger of exploding.

As the water washed away the physical evidence of her, his mind kept her fresh and alive.

He crawled into bed, with a happy feeling and an excitement about tomorrow, about seeing Miranda again, and starting a new phase of his life – a phase that he'd never thought that he had wanted, but now he realised that he needed it, quite desperately in fact ... a life with Miranda beside him.


It was a hectic day with things seeming to go wrong all around them,

It seemed that now that Marcus was back, then all the petty squabbles, and problems – all seemed to come out.

Peter had been handling most things – very well, but it seemed that some of the staff had wanted to only deal with the boss.

It was a tiresome lot, but Marcus knew that if he did not deal with these things then they would just fester.

He had several abrupt meetings during the course of that morning, and he left his staff in no doubt that these trivial problems and disagreements would not be tolerated.

His temper was frayed by lunch time, and having sent Peter of for his dinner, he was sitting brooding in his office.

The light, almost hesitant knock on the door, had his temper brewing once more in anticipation of more annoyances.

"Yes!" he snapped out.

The door opened and Miranda's exquisite features peered around at him.

"What is it?" he felt like biting his tongue as his tone continued its sniping.

Miranda's brow furrowed slightly, but she stepped into the room.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, I ... I was actually looking for Peter..."

So she didn't even want to see him, he felt a flash of jealousy, add fuel to his irritability.

"Your brother," he stressed the word, "has gone out to lunch already ... I ... is there anything that I can do?" he didn't add the childish; 'after all I am the boss!' but he saw her react to the implication.

She shook her head stiffly as she backed away from him.

"No ... it's nothing that won't keep..."

"It is work related though?" he asked pointedly and watched in disgust as the colour came to her cheeks.

"It ... it doesn't matter ... I ... I'll catch up with him later ... so sorry to have disturbed you!"

She was gone before he could take it back, and he sat there for a full five minutes replaying the whole stupid scene in his mind, replaying and changing it to one where he said the right things and she smiled at him, in the way that only she did.

He came to the end and played it again and then again and then again but this time he played it honestly in his mind and saw the way his words and his tone had hurt her.

He was on his feet in a moment, as he lurched away the painful knot in his gut.

He would apologise right now...

"I'm sorry but Miranda has gone to lunch already," Mrs Roberts told him stiffly. "I'm sure that I can be of service though,"

"No ... that's okay, I'll catch up with her when she gets back."

"Well if you're certain, she may be a while though, she asked for a longer lunch break, because she had an appointment – or something," Mrs Roberts' lips tightened with displeasure at this inconvenience to herself.

Marcus wondered off to the door with an impatient shrug of his shoulders.

"I'll come and find her later then ... you are okay on your own, I take it?"

He asked the question but did not even bother to hang around long enough for an answer.

"Well really!" Mrs Roberts snapped as her own temper turned to peevishness, and resentment, all of which was targeted at Miranda.


Miranda walked quickly down the street and over to another tall block of offices. She had called into the local job centre, the day before and after looking at the clerical and admin board; she had pulled out her notebook and her mobile, and went and found a quiet corner prepared to make a couple of calls to the jobs advertised ... or as many as it might take...

 
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