As Taken Identity is now on general release, I just have to celebrate that fact with this week's #MidWeekTease
Jules gulped. Her self-imposed ‘No Gray’ was getting harder and harder to stick to,
especially when she knew what she really wanted to stick to was him, not her principles.
Whoever said principles make a cold bedfellow was spot on. She rather thought it was
decision time. It was hard to believe she’d known Gray for less than forty-eight hours.
However, she reasoned, if she added up the actual time they had spent together, it was a lot
more than she had spent in total in some relationships. A spurious argument, but one she
thought she would be using to convince herself they just had to get together and discover
what was happening between them. Well, she knew what was happening with her. She fancied the pants off him, and really needed to see if A—it was reciprocated, and B—lived up
to what she remembered.
“What are you thinking?”
“Sorry?” She saw Gray’s quizzical look and flushed. “Oh, not much. More wine?”
She stood, lifted the bottle out of the cooler and gestured in the direction of his empty water glass.
This was it then, crunch time. If he said yes and drank a glass, he couldn’t drive home.
If he said no—
His look was considered. Jules felt her muscles tense. It was all up to him now. Surely, he knew what she suggested. Even though she had been vocal in her no-sex edicts, the effect he was increasingly having on her—and it seemed her on him—somewhat negated that.
Jules had never really understood the phrase ‘a pregnant silence’, until she stood, bottle in hand, looking down at him, sitting relaxed in front of her. Her breasts at his eye level seemingly had no effect on his libido.
As if in slow motion, he shook his head. “No, thanks, no more wine.”
What? She couldn’t believe her ears. After all the doublespeak, the sexual innuendos, the awareness and, yes, his bloody, great hard-ons, he wasn’t going to take what was on offer? Bastard! Bloody, bloody...
“Sorry?”
“I said, I don’t want any more wine, but wouldn’t mind a glass of that rather good whisky you gave me yesterday.” His voice was patient, amused even. His smile showed her he knew exactly what she had asked and what he was agreeing to. “Just a drop though, a mere sniff and taste. I never play after alcohol.”
Help. Jules now felt nervous. What if he was disappointed? What if she was disappointed? This time it was really them, not two strangers who passed—or should that be connected—in the night. How awful if they found reality didn’t live up to that dream-time meeting? Even if he didn’t know it was the same woman.
Oh hell, life was so complicated sometimes.
Her thoughts whirred as she took his empty glass and exchanged it for a tumbler in which she poured the merest drop of malt. Shit, when did I last wax my legs? What state is my bikini line—and the rest—in? Did she have time to check? To do anything necessary? At least she had changed the sheets that morning. In hope, maybe, that despite all her protests to the contrary, something would happen.
“Sorry?” She saw Gray’s quizzical look and flushed. “Oh, not much. More wine?”
She stood, lifted the bottle out of the cooler and gestured in the direction of his empty water glass.
This was it then, crunch time. If he said yes and drank a glass, he couldn’t drive home.
If he said no—
His look was considered. Jules felt her muscles tense. It was all up to him now. Surely, he knew what she suggested. Even though she had been vocal in her no-sex edicts, the effect he was increasingly having on her—and it seemed her on him—somewhat negated that.
Jules had never really understood the phrase ‘a pregnant silence’, until she stood, bottle in hand, looking down at him, sitting relaxed in front of her. Her breasts at his eye level seemingly had no effect on his libido.
As if in slow motion, he shook his head. “No, thanks, no more wine.”
What? She couldn’t believe her ears. After all the doublespeak, the sexual innuendos, the awareness and, yes, his bloody, great hard-ons, he wasn’t going to take what was on offer? Bastard! Bloody, bloody...
“Sorry?”
“I said, I don’t want any more wine, but wouldn’t mind a glass of that rather good whisky you gave me yesterday.” His voice was patient, amused even. His smile showed her he knew exactly what she had asked and what he was agreeing to. “Just a drop though, a mere sniff and taste. I never play after alcohol.”
Help. Jules now felt nervous. What if he was disappointed? What if she was disappointed? This time it was really them, not two strangers who passed—or should that be connected—in the night. How awful if they found reality didn’t live up to that dream-time meeting? Even if he didn’t know it was the same woman.
Oh hell, life was so complicated sometimes.
Her thoughts whirred as she took his empty glass and exchanged it for a tumbler in which she poured the merest drop of malt. Shit, when did I last wax my legs? What state is my bikini line—and the rest—in? Did she have time to check? To do anything necessary? At least she had changed the sheets that morning. In hope, maybe, that despite all her protests to the contrary, something would happen.
Hell, did she have any condoms? She may be on the pill, but there was no chance of
anything happening without that extra protection. Sensible women protected themselves
from more than just pregnancy. Jules might be head over heels in lust, but she had enough
common sense left to remember all the lectures given to them at school about STIs.
“Are you going to join me?”
“What?”
He indicated his glass. “With a malt?”
“Oh, er, no, I think I’d better stick to water. I don’t like mixing my drinks.” One sip and
in the mood I’m in, I’ll be flat on my back for all the wrong reasons.
“Wise girl.” He took a sip of his drink. “Would you like me to open another bottle?” He paused. “Of water?”
Oh, God, surely she hadn’t said about being on her back aloud, had she? However, it seemed not, as Gray was just looking at her with a query in his eyes, not amusement.
“It’s a screw, um, cap, but I’d love another glass. There’s a bottle in the fridge. I’ll be back in a sec.” Jules left the room hurriedly, without stopping to gauge his reaction to her helpless mutterings. She dashed to the loo and splashed cold water on her face before looking in the bathroom cabinet. Spare toothpaste, brush and razor. Headache tablets, no little foil wrapped parcels. Bugger. Where else? Duh, Jules, be logical. You are not likely to want condoms in here, no room to swing a cat, let alone...well, don’t go there yet. Be logical. En-suite, bedside table, hell, even kitchen drawer. Come on, woman, move, look and pray.
She did all three.
She was rewarded in the en-suite and bedroom. Whew, at least I don’t have to explain why I’m rummaging through the kitchen drawers like a maniac. I wonder if I have enough? How many was enough, anyway? She didn’t think they would use all she found, but a girl could live in hope, couldn’t she? She took a quick glance at her legs and bikini line. They would do, she decided, due to the circumstances. Time to get back downstairs before Gray thought she’d left the country.
“Are you going to join me?”
“What?”
He indicated his glass. “With a malt?”
“Oh, er, no, I think I’d better stick to water. I don’t like mixing my drinks.” One sip and
in the mood I’m in, I’ll be flat on my back for all the wrong reasons.
“Wise girl.” He took a sip of his drink. “Would you like me to open another bottle?” He paused. “Of water?”
Oh, God, surely she hadn’t said about being on her back aloud, had she? However, it seemed not, as Gray was just looking at her with a query in his eyes, not amusement.
“It’s a screw, um, cap, but I’d love another glass. There’s a bottle in the fridge. I’ll be back in a sec.” Jules left the room hurriedly, without stopping to gauge his reaction to her helpless mutterings. She dashed to the loo and splashed cold water on her face before looking in the bathroom cabinet. Spare toothpaste, brush and razor. Headache tablets, no little foil wrapped parcels. Bugger. Where else? Duh, Jules, be logical. You are not likely to want condoms in here, no room to swing a cat, let alone...well, don’t go there yet. Be logical. En-suite, bedside table, hell, even kitchen drawer. Come on, woman, move, look and pray.
She did all three.
She was rewarded in the en-suite and bedroom. Whew, at least I don’t have to explain why I’m rummaging through the kitchen drawers like a maniac. I wonder if I have enough? How many was enough, anyway? She didn’t think they would use all she found, but a girl could live in hope, couldn’t she? She took a quick glance at her legs and bikini line. They would do, she decided, due to the circumstances. Time to get back downstairs before Gray thought she’d left the country.
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Happy Reading,
Love R x
