Stormy Summer by Suzy Turner

Chapter 4

'We should get going, I made the reservation for 8.15, and I think we'll be a bit late, but it shouldn't matter too much.'

'Where are we going?'

'That's a secret.'

He helped me into my coat. I picked up my handbag, found my keys, and we were off.

At 8.25 we arrived at a cosy little Italian restaurant in the suburbs. We were shown immediately to a romantic table in a secluded corner, where we ordered a bottle of red wine, tomatoes with mozzarella to start, followed by ravioli for Grayson and spaghetti carbonara for me. I'd ordered it before realising how messy spaghetti could be. Oops.

The food and wine were delicious, and the company perfect. This time Grayson wanted to know everything about me. And after a few more glasses, I even told him about Russell and my mother. He placed his hand over mine on the table and laughingly told me he'd steer clear of her in the future then, and perhaps he should have a description of her considering she lived close by.

I giggled, but inside my heart, fluttered.

The sound of his voice began to turn me on, and soon enough, he was gazing into my eyes and telling me that he'd love to see me again, and again, and again.

'I feel that we really click, Summer. You're a beautiful woman, with a great personality, and I feel that I can tell you anything. I'm hoping you feel the same way. I know this is only our first date—not counting McDonald's the other day, that is,' he laughed shyly, 'and if I'm moving too fast, I'll back off. Just say the words.'

Wow, what a speech. I hoped this wasn't going to be too good to be true. I pinched myself, just to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Luckily for me, I wasn't. I had a nice red pinch mark to prove it. This was real life, although it felt more like a daytime soap opera unfolding before my very eyes.

'Well, I don't want you to back off. I'd really love to see you again and again too. You're pretty hot stuff too, you know!' I replied with a smile, and he squeezed my hand. I gazed into his deep brown eyes, desire growing by the second.

He paid the bill, and we drove home in silence. I was thinking of the perfect way to invite him in without sounding tarty, tacky or desperate. He was probably wondering whether I was going to invite him in as well.

When he eventually pulled up outside the flat, we turned to each other. 'W-would y-you like to come in for a drink?'

There, I'd managed to say it, and it hadn't sounded too bad.

'I'd really like that.'

Inside, after taking off my boots (and secretly spraying my feet with perfume), I poured us some more wine and then went to put on some music. Barry White? Too obvious. Guns n Roses? Too loud. Madonna's Like a Virgin? I laughed—I don't think so. George Michael's I Want Your s*x? Er, definitely not! So, I settled for Ed Sheeran. Perhaps a bit soppy at times, but it'd do.

We both stood drinking, listening to music, wondering what was going to happen next. I decided to make the first move. I approached him, put both our glasses down and said, 'Would you like to dance?'

Talk about tacky.

'Sure.' He took me in his arms and held me close while we basically smooched along to Ed's Thinking Out Loud. I started to imagine the music video and wished he would whisk me off my feet. But it didn't take long for me to feel something rather large and rather hard pressing against me. I looked up, and he kissed me.

Boy, what a kiss. It made me feel like jelly in his arms. Before long I'd undone his shirt, taken it off and thrown it across the room. Mmmm, nice chest. Off came his shoes and socks (fortunately not Mickey Mouse) and then his trousers. Much to my delight, he was wearing boxers (I'm not a big fan of briefs and Y-fronts, urgh), which I let him keep on. For a little while, anyway. Then I pulled away from him and pushed him onto the sofa.

I'd obviously had a bit too much (perhaps an understatement) to drink, because I began to dance in front of him, slowly removing the dress and letting it drop to the floor. When it dawned on him that all I was wearing were hold-up stockings, he gasped with pleasure. He tried to get up, but I waved my finger at him as if he were a naughty schoolboy.

'No…sit and watch', I drawled, as I bent and caressed my thighs cheekily in front of him.

If I'd have suddenly become sober, I would have died from embarrassment, but I was so drunk I couldn't care less. In fact, I started to imagine I was Demi Moore in Striptease. Only I was n***d and touching myself. But boy, was it having the most amazing effect on Grayson. He was so hard I thought he would explode. But I didn't stop. I turned my back to him and bent at the waist, fortunately, my yoga classes had paid off, as I was able to look at him from between my thighs, 'D'you think I'm hot?' I whispered.

He nodded, unable to speak.

I finally turned back around to face him, gently removed his shorts and sank down onto him. Wowweeee, I thought.

Finally, he managed to speak. 'So now I know why you were having naughty thoughts earlier,' he whispered, as he gently caressed the soft flesh of my boobs, bending down to take a n****e in his mouth. He sure had a great way of tantalisingly teasing it between his teeth.

I groaned. God that was so good.

It became a bit rougher. Not nastily rough, but wickedly and enthusiastically vigorous. Mmmmm. Wow. Yeah (baby yeah).

He touched me in all the right places, and he seemed to know exactly what I liked.

Eventually, we made it to the bedroom, after an hour or so in the living room and kitchen, where we'd had o****m after o****m after o****m throughout the night.

And no…this time I wasn't dreaming, but boy did it feel like it.

This week had turned out to be one of the best weeks of my life. This guy made Russell look like a complete wet fart in bed. And Russell had actually been rather good!

Chapter 4

I was woken up by the curtains being opened, and a voice I didn't recognise at first. 'Rise and shine, sleepyhead.'

I opened my eyes, wondering what the hell was going on. It was Grayson, and he'd made breakfast and brought it to me in bed. My God, was there no end to this amazing guy?

'Hi, gorgeous, did you sleep well?' he asked.

'Well I didn't get a great deal of it, but neither did you, for that matter,' I giggled. 'I can't believe you made me breakfast in bed. Nobody has ever done this for me before. It's lovely. But you really didn't have to, you know.'

'I know that. But I wanted to. Last night, by the way, was amazing. The Earth moved.'

Oh, God, I remembered the striptease. How embarrassing. But hang on a minute, did he just say the Earth moved? Now that was tacky. Finally, there was something wrong with him, but then I realised he'd been joking. I smirked, and he started to laugh.

'I wanted to see your face if I said something like that.'

'Well, ha dee haha,' I said, munching away on a piece of toast and slurping over a cup of tea. I must have looked a right mess—I sure felt like a mess. Jesus…how much had I drank?

'The little striptease was absolutely fantastic, though. Actually…do you even remember that?'

Puce with embarrassment, I nearly coughed chewed up toast all over him as I nodded and cringed.

'Don't be embarrassed. You were amazing. Better than any strippers I've ever seen before.'

I smiled, hoping he hadn't really seen that many if any at all.

'So do you have any plans today?' he asked.

'Not really, do you?' I replied.

'Yes.'

I must have looked disappointed because he suddenly broke out in a big grin and said, 'My plans do involve you, though.'

'You're not some kind of mass murderer, are you? You're not planning on hacking me to pieces all day or something?' I asked, smirking, not knowing entirely where that had come from. Maybe I'd been watching too many movies, although lately, the majority of my pastimes consisted of watching Dirty Dancing, Legally Blonde and Twilight. Not exactly murderers galore. Well, not counting the vampires.

'Aw, shucks, you got me,' he said as he began to tickle me.

After another hour or so of more intoxicating s*x under a hot shower, we got dressed and headed over to his place so he could change into some clean clothes.

While he was changing, I had a little snoop around his apartment. It was immaculate and tidy. Very well decorated. He had good taste. But it did seem to have a woman's touch to it, which was a bit odd. There were a few vases with fresh flowers in them, but the most curious thing was that he had several women's magazines… Cosmopolitan, Marie Claire… Good Housekeeping and stuff like that. I thought perhaps they'd belonged to his ex-girlfriend, but I was sure he'd told me they'd broken up about six months ago, and these magazines were current editions.

When he came out of his bedroom, he saw me leafing through them. His initial reaction was surprise, but then he said, 'You're probably thinking how strange it is for a guy to have all the latest women's magazines. Well, it's actually for work. I'm encouraged to check out the latest kind of photography and stories.'

'Not a bad idea, I suppose,' I muttered.

I'm sure I heard him breathe a sigh of relief. I guess I should have thought a bit more of it at the time, but I was so smitten with him that anything weird would have seemed totally reasonable.

'So what are we going to do now?' I asked.

'Today is your day, gorgeous. What would you like to do?'

'I thought you said you had plans?'

'My plans are spending the weekend with you and doing exactly what you want to do.'

'Now don't give me the responsibility of making a decision like that, I'm terrible at thinking of things to do, except for shopping, and I doubt that you want to do that.'

'Well, if that's what you really want to do, we could. Or…we could go to the zoo, go to the park, go ice-skating, go to the cinema, or we could rent out a few videos and have a very lazy day making love, consuming copious amounts of alcohol and stuffing ourselves silly with crisps, nuts, pizzas, ice cream, et cetera, et cetera.'

'Wow, you're full of ideas, aren't you? And you're serious about all of that stuff?'

'Completely and utterly serious,' he said with his arms on his hips like Peter Pan.

'Okay, let's rent some movies, go buy some booze, some food and more importantly…some condoms!' I chuckled.

He scooped me up over his shoulder and carried me outside to the car.

'Supermarket, here we come,' he whooped as I screamed with laughter.

We bought several bottles of wine and lager, a bottle of peach schnapps, lots and lots of crisps, a few pizzas, chocolates and ice-cream and a large box of condoms.

This was, without a doubt, my kinda guy!

This time I insisted he let me at least pay half the bill. He argued at first, but being my usual stubborn self, he finally conceded, bearing in my mind that, basically, he didn't have a choice.

So then we headed back to his place for a weekend of pure bliss. I could hardly wait.

We put on Netflix and decided in advance what movies we would spend the day watching. I figured this would be a good way of getting to know him better, to see what kind of films he would pick, but unfortunately, he seemed to want whatever I chose, so we settled on some old ones: Gladiator, Notting Hill, Runaway Bride and The Sixth Sense.