Chapter 10

It was only at 5pm the next day that Sandy began to panic. She was quite impressed with her own self control!

Unfortunately, that didn't help her much now, so many questions. What if he came, what if he didn't? What time would he get there, where would they go, what should she wear?

Logically, she reasoned, dinner wouldn't be until at least 7pm right? Maybe even 9pm. Why oh why had she not stopped to think last night? Oh yes, it was that damn chemistry between them that made her go all needy and lustful inside.

Oh well. She couldn't do much about whatever time he decided to turn up but at least she could find some clothes to wear, something casual and feminine, but more importantly, easy to remove.

By the time the doorbell rang at 8pm, she'd almost convinced herself he wasn't coming. Nevertheless, she was ready, if a little nervous by the time he made it up the stairs to her apartment.

"Wow!" He mouthed at her as he stood back to take her all in. He indicated with his finger that she should turn and she piroutted with a satisfied smirk, his reaction was everything she'd hoped for when picking this dress.

At first glance, it was your average little black dress, modest neckline, short capped sleeves and a full knee length skirt. But when she twirled, the skirt lifted like a dancers and she grinned as he caught a glimpse of her stockings and no panties combo.

With a groan, he reached out and yanked her against him, cupping her butt with both hands to lift and press her against the rapidly growing bulge in his trousers.

Laughing, she wrapped her legs around his waist, wriggling slightly as his mouth descended to wreak havoc on her carefully applied make up.

He took a few steps forward, desperate to get her naked and willing as soon as possible before his brain kicked in, reminding him why he was there. Dammit!

Reluctantly pulling away and lowering her until she stood shakily on the floor, he took deep calming breaths, trying to return his libido to a sense of normality. From the looks of her flushed cheeks and dilated pupils, she was suffering from the same predicament!

"So," she grinned naughtily, "you like the dress?"

"Mhm," he groaned, "but at this moment I'd like it better on the floor, with me buried inside you."

She flushed even more, unused to that kind of talk.

"Am I embarrassing you?" He questioned softly. "I didn't mean to."

"No, it's fine," she stuttered, "I mean it's more than fine, I like it when you do that. I'm just not very used to it."

"You like it do you?" He growled. "So if I told you that all I can think about right now is bending you over that sofa and thrusting so deep into you that you scream my name..."

Squeezing her eyes shut, Sandy struggled against the images that his words were evoking.

"I see you do," he laughed. "But if I follow through on that promise we're going to be late for dinner."

Opening her eyes again she sighed with regret, followed by a small tinge of happiness that he had actually planned on dinner.

"Where are we going?" She asked, smoothing her dress and quickly reapplying some lipstick.

"It's a surprise," he replied with a grin, "but I think you'll like it."

The restaurant was dark and intimate, and the waiter led them to a table at the back.

A single candle sputtered in a jar in the centre of each table and the lamps around the walls were turned low.