Chapter 9

KEIRA WAS ON MY mind Thursday as I worked. In rare moments when work waned or I'd take a short break, I perused online motorcycle sales sites on the Internet and wistfully dreamed of buying one, of having Keira sitting astride the bike holding my waist, pressed into my back as we headed away together to nowhere, that somewhere where being together wouldn't raise eyebrows or run the risk of being seen by those that knew us.

At other moments I wondered if she really liked her birthday present. I also wished fifteen was legal.

Her text message arrived at two-thirty; 'Call me when you can talk. Luv ya :)'

It wasn't until four forty-five that I found a half an hour of peace. Leaving the office, stepping out of the building into late afternoon warmth, the city bustling with cars, busses, and people heading home early, I pulled out my cell phone, strolled along the street, and dialed.

Before I could get a word in, Keira gushed, "Seb, hi. Guess what? I talked to Mom about us."

She must have heard my groan.

"No! It's not like that. Honest. Mom was really cool about it."

I didn't believe her. No mother would be 'really cool' about her fifteen-year-old daughter dating a twenty-five-year-old guy; a relative at that. "You shouldn't have, Keira."

Silence followed. Keira finally broke it, saying, "You didn't expect me to lie to Mom, did you?"

"Maybe not lie, just not mention our relationship," I countered.

"Well don't worry. Mom said I can see you! Isn't that great? I told her you were taking me out Friday night to celebrate my birthday. You are, aren't you?"

"You're kidding, right?" I asked, not believing her mom would react that way.

"What's wrong with Friday? It's tomorrow. Are you busy?" Keira asked.

"No..."

"What? You don't want to take me to a real restaurant?" Keira said, interrupting me.

"No it's..."

"Then what? Is it you don't want to be seen with me?" she asked, her voice becoming harder.

I smiled and shook my head. "Keira, shut up."

"But..."

"Stop talking, Keira."

"But..."

"Hush! Let me get a word in!" I paused, still smiling, waiting to see if she'd keep quiet.

"Well?" she asked sternly, clearly uncomfortable with silence.

Laughing, I explained, "When I said you're kidding I was referring to your mom's permission for us to see each other, not to dinner."

"Oh."

"And no I'm not busy Friday night and yes I'd love to see you," I reassured.

"Oh. Well good. What time?"

I arrived exactly at six. I'd sneaked away from work in order to prepare everything. My instructions to Keira were to dress casually, be comfortable. She clearly hadn't heard me.

The girl that emerged from the front door of a faux Tudor-style house was shocking, breathtaking. This was a side to Keira I'd never imagined and, let me tell you, fifteen was not too young in the slightest.

Pale red hair fell free in soft waves over exposed shoulders. Soft brown eyes twinkled. A small smile on pale pink lips greeted me. Her off-the-shoulder olive green dress clung to her like a second skin revealing sensual curves I hadn't noticed before; a waist, narrow hips leading to the sensual swell of a compact, sexy rear. The dress was short, high thigh-length, and Keira's legs seemed endlessly long and svelte, the heels of her matching olive green shoes adding length. A small black purse was held in one hand and, resting over her dress, hanging around her neck, was the gold necklace I'd given her for her birthday.

"Ta-da," she exclaimed softly striking a pose, her knee bent, body artfully turned.

"Wow."

Her smile grew. "Thanks."

"I feel underdressed," I said.

"You look great," Keira replied.

The front door closed behind her. I caught a glimpse of her mother smiling just before it shut.

Reaching out for her hand, I said, "The taxi awaits."

Somehow Keira folded herself into the back seat without exposing more of her legs. I was impressed and disappointed. She had gorgeous legs. The way she'd dressed really impressed me. She'd lost none of her youthful beauty. In fact the outfit emphasized her slenderness. Yet it also made her so sexy, so sensual, not too young in the slightest. It was a dangerous outfit.

Twenty-some minutes later Keira said, "This is NOT what I had in mind," the disappointment clear in her voice. "This is NOT a restaurant."

I led her up to my apartment ignoring her complaints. Opening the door, I ushered her in.

"Wow," she whispered.

It had taken me a while to get right. Subtle mood lighting cast glowing circles here and there. The blinds were closed blocking light from entering the twenty-foot tall windows. To the left the black dining table had been set with china, silverware, and three silver candleholders with thin, white, tapered candles waiting to be lit. A single pale red rose sat in a small crystal-glass holder.

One smaller plate sat atop a larger plate. On the small one rested a black silken box, three inches by two; the second half of her birthday present.

My apartment was full of aromas; rosemary, garlic, tender lamb.

Keira turned and asked, "You did this for me?"

I pulled her to me and smiled. What a dumb question. "Of course it's for you." With her heels I didn't have to bend my head so far. She pressed her slender body to me, warm and petite. A gorgeous smile emerged. Soft brown eyes twinkled at me. Lips touched.

Kissing Keira took me away. All thoughts vanished. My world consisted of velvety-soft lips, a small, warm, moist tongue-tip, a slender sexy girl in my arms, her taste; clean and exciting with a hint of mint. Her quiet murmur sent chills through me and I became erect, hard, desire rushing in.

My heart was beating a loud staccato by the time the kiss ended. Leading her to the dining table, I let her sit before moving to the kitchen to get drinks.

"What's this?" she asked, picking up the little black box.

I pulled a bottle of sparkling apple juice out of the fridge and popped the cork. "The rest of your birthday present," I said. "Go ahead. Open it."

Keira was silent as I poured sparkling apple juice into champagne flutes. Lighting the candles, I sat and watched her. A look of surprise emerged. She gently lifted the exquisitely made, thin gold chain from the box. Hanging from the chain was a miniature replica of her necklace except there were, if one looked closely enough, only three hieroglyphs.

"A matching bracelet?" Keira said with awe.

"No. An ankle chain," I corrected.

Keira grinned with delight and, lifting it up, squinted at the tiny medallion. "It's different," she observed

"Uh-huh. It has my name on it. I want everyone to know you're mine."

Keira smiled, blinding me. "I love it! Here," she added moving her chair back. A slender young leg rose. A small bare foot found my lap and wiggled, accompanied by a giggle. "Put it on," she instructed, handing me the small chain.

It was a fiddly little clasp that proved rather challenging. Keira giggling every time I touched her foot didn't help. And, as I grabbed her leg to stop her moving, I caught a glimpse of a white, silky, panty-clad pussy. It was just a flash, but oh my! It was full and pouty and sexy and man did I want more.

It made the job of putting the chain on even harder. Once done, Keira innocently raised her foot to admire, giving me another tantalizing flash of white. Standing suddenly, I went to get our hors d'oeuvres; blackened shrimp with a chipotle dipping sauce. I was hard, fifteen now seeming to be the perfect age.

Placing a plate in front of her, I brushed her silky pale red hair away from her neck, bent and kissed her just below her earlobe. Scents of cucumber and lilac filled my nose.

Keira smiled when I sat down. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

I grinned. "Perhaps. How am I doing so far?"

She gave me a coquettish smile, "I'm not sure. Keep trying and I'll let you know."