Fifty Days of Sin by Serena Dahl Read Free Book Online Page B

a go at a novel, but my
colleagues are very elitist. I suppose I care too much about my
reputation to give it a go.”
    “Well, personally I think you
should tell your colleagues to get stuffed, and do what you want to
do. I’m hugely impressed that you’ve published four books already,
though. You really don’t look old enough.”
    I grin at him. “I’ll take that
as a compliment.”
    “You should,” he says sincerely,
looking deep into my eyes. I feel mesmerised by his intense gaze.
“I’m beginning to think you’re a very remarkable woman, Dr
Gardiner.”
    I look down, his use of my
surname suddenly reminding me of Michael. I don’t want to think
about the student with a penchant for corporal punishment right
now.
    “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks,
sensing my disquiet, and putting his hand on mine. “I didn’t mean
to upset you.”
    “Nothing,” I tell him, looking
him in the eye again. “Nothing important. It wasn’t anything you
said – don’t worry.”
    He holds my gaze for what feels
like a long time, still with his hand on mine. The physical
contact, minimal though it is, makes my breath a little ragged, and
I can’t stop looking into his eyes.
    The waiter arrives, breaking the
spell, and we order coffee. Now that it’s nearly the end of the
meal, I find that I’m uncharacteristically nervous. The end of the
meal means time to leave, and I know that Adam will drive me back
home.
    Will he kiss
me, and what will it be like? Will he come in? Will I feel his
hands on my body, touching me where I like to be touched? I have
been fantasising about what Adam looks like without his clothes for
weeks now. Am I about to find out? Oh, how I would love to make him
hard; how I long to touch his erection and see the desire in his
face as I start to give him pleasure. How I want him to touch me
down there, where I’m getting wet with anticipation already, and
feel him inside me for the first time. Oh,
Adam.
    At last we do leave – after a
slight tussle over the bill, which I eventually allow him to pay on
the agreement that I’ll be paying next time. We go back to his car
– his rather lovely car, a sleek silver Mercedes SLK – and soon
we’ve pulled up outside my house. He gets out and opens the door
for me. Ever the gentleman.
    “Thank you,” I smile up at him.
“And thank you for a lovely meal.”
    “I should thank you, for your
company,” he replies. He walks me to the front door. “Well,
goodnight,” he says, and puts his hand to my cheek, softly touching
my face. Then he lifts my chin and kisses me, oh so gently, on the
lips. My head reels a little, and I don’t think it’s just because
of the wine.
    “Would you like to come in?” I
ask, breathless.
    “I would really, really like to
come in,” he answers. I smile radiantly. But then he continues,
“But I don’t think it would be a good idea.”
    I can feel my face fall. “Don’t
you?”
    He still has
hold of my chin, and he moves closer, kissing me again. This time
he lingers longer, and as my hand rests on his chest both his arms
go around me. His lips part and I feel his tongue silky-smooth
against mine, and my body tingles all over as I feel him let go,
giving in to his desire for me, anchoring his hand in my hair to
pull my face firmly towards him and kissing me hard now, his other
hand reaching down the base of my spine to caress my bottom – oh,
so close to where I want his hand to go, please, Adam, please touch me there –
but then he pulls away, still holding me but moving his hands to my
back.
    “No. Not yet,” he says with a
small rueful smile. “It’s not long since you got out of hospital.
You need to heal properly.”
    “I have healed properly,” I
complain, and then I’m annoyed at my tone of voice. It sounded
rather more desperate than I intended, like a wail of protest. But
it’s true – I couldn’t have done what I did with Michael on Tuesday
night if I wasn’t better.
    “I don’t want to hurt