Page 9 of My Lord
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I deliberated over which restaurant to take Gabriella to. I wanted somewhere private and quiet so that we could chat. The perfect location came to mind. A wine seller in London had an intimate dining room where one could not only taste wines, but also have a meal. I held wine in their cellars. I called and although it cost me another case of wine, a table was found for me.
The sat-nav took me straight to a Georgian house near Hampton Court and I parked on the driveway. As I walked up the steps to the front door, she opened it. She stood in a white lace summer dress that skimmed her curves. I could see glimpses of smooth tanned skin beneath the lace. She smelled divine and I leaned in close to kiss her cheek. She made me laugh when she turned to kiss my other cheek and I’d already leaned back.
“Sorry, two kisses,” she said, and chuckled as well. “Would you like to come in for a drink before we leave?”
I glanced at my watch. “I think we have time for that, yes.”
She stepped back and allowed me to walk through, although my arm brushed against hers as I did. The hairs on my skin stood to attention. I was sure my cock would at the slightest prompting too.
I let Gabriella pass and followed her through a kitchen to a wonderful and surprisingly large garden. A bottle of white wine was chilling, and two glasses were set aside on an outdoor bar.
She poured and handed me one. “A Californian Chardonnay,” she said. “Not one of my favourites, but the only one that was cold.” Her voice sent a tingle up my spine.
I raised my glass to hers. “As long as it’s cold, it’s fine,” I replied before taking a sip.
“Please sit,” she said, indicating to a bar stool. “Do we have time?”
“Yes, the table is reserved for half past seven but they’ll hold it for as long as we need. This is a lovely house,” I said, admiring the garden.
“Thank you, I only rent. I wasn’t sure how long I was going to be in the UK, so I never bought.”
Something ran through me; a sense of dread. I hadn’t thought about her not being long term in the UK. “Do you think you’ll be heading back home soon?”
She shook her head. “Not for the foreseeable future. Things are just getting interesting here.” She smiled at me over the rim of her glass and I watched her tongue dart out to lick at it.
“Indeed, interesting,” I said, mumbling into my glass.
Her startling blue eyes held my gaze in a dare, who would look away first? I felt my blood pump faster when she submitted and lowered hers. She was coy, but I knew underneath that expression was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it.
I smirked in victory and then placed my glass on the table. We chatted about London life and how it compared to America. I detected a nostalgic tone to her voice when she spoke of home. She told me of her favouritehaunts and boozers, as she called them, mimicking her friend’s British accent and it made me smile.
“I think it’s time to leave,” I said, as I stood and held out my hand.
She took it and I helped her to slide gracefully off the stool she was sitting on. “I need to grab my bag.”
I left her to do so and headed for the front door. I was grateful for the moment alone so I could adjust my rigid cock to a more comfortable position. I stood beside my car and held the passenger door open for her. There was no scrambling to lower herself to the seat, she had it down perfectly and I chuckled.
“It’s a southern thing, or rather it’s my southern mother thing. All ladies must know how to enter and exit a vehicle,” she said, exaggerating her accent.
“Then I owe your mother a debt of gratitude and wonder if perhaps she might offer online lessons to some of the British mothers I’ve encountered.” As the words left my mouth, I regretted them. “Not that I’ve met that many, of course,” I quickly added.
“Alex, a gentleman as handsome as you won’t be short of dates, I’m sure,” she replied as I gently closed her door.
I wondered just how surprised she would be to know her statement was way off the mark. I was still musing on her comment as I opened the driver’s door and climbed in.
Gabriella adjusted the air vents so cool air blew over her, fanning her hair gently and, more importantly, wafting her intoxicating scent around the car.
“I have to ask, what is that perfume you’re wearing?” I said.
“Do you like it?”
“Very much so.”
“It’s a special blend, made for my grandmother initially by her great friend, Coco. It’s only sold in the States now, and in one boutique not far from my hometown. I have to buy in bulk, but I’ll be sure to decant some for you.” She offered a sexy smile as she finished her sentence.
I’d never had the desire to own women’s perfume before, but to be able to keep her scent alive when she wasn’t there was rather tempting. I didn’t reply, obviously, it would be a little creepy to accept her offer, I thought.
