The Architect by C.A. Bell Read Free Book Online

sitting at the desk tapping away on his laptop.
    He smiles from over the screen. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of ordering room service.”
    Looking over to the array of pastries and black coffee, I take a bite out of one of the croissants and empty the mug before telling him I’ll be on my way, as I can see he’s busy.
    â€œI’ll drop you home,” he insists, striding to the wardrobe that matches the desk.
    â€œYou don’t have to do that, you’ve got work to do.”
    â€œNevertheless, I’d like to drop you home.”
    I agree to his offer and thank him as he throws on a pair of blue jeans and a white shirt. Even casual he looks like a god. The denim clings to his narrow hips and cute arse, and his shirt tightens over his wide shoulders and arm muscles.
    I let out a ‘phwoar’ in my head, and then stand there completely innocently as he holds the door for me.
    We take the lift down, and he puts his arm around my waist and kisses me on the forehead before we hit the ground floor. On our slow stroll through reception Philip walks past and asks how our evening was. I blush slightly and Heath tells him that his appetite was satisfied.
    Waiting until we are out of the hotel and out of earshot from anyone, I giggle. “Oh my God, you have no shame.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” He winks as he opens his car door for me.
    I, as gracefully as I can, take the passenger seat, and look up at him as he’s about to shut the door and say, “Oh, you know exactly what I mean, Mr Berkley.”
    He grins and shuts the door before taking the driver’s seat and firing up the engine. As he drives the route like he’s done it a thousand times before, I have a quick nose around his car to see what items of his personality I can spot. The car is spotless; not a speck of dust in sight. The only objects in the car are three CDs and a packet of cigarettes, which pushes me to ask, “How often do you smoke?”
    He makes a face as he shifts from third to fourth gear. “That’s a strange question.”
    â€œI know, it’s just I saw you smoke on Friday night.” Naughty flashback. “But I didn’t see you do it last night.”
    â€œYou’re very observant.” He changes gear again. “I only smoke socially or when I’m stressed.”
    â€œSo which were you on Friday?” I tease.
    He glances at me. “A nervous smoker.” His forehead creases. “I’m not sure if I should apologise for my behaviour on Friday night.”
    He waits for me to say something, but I remain quiet and let him carry on explaining.
    â€œI’ve never done anything like that before. It was like the animal inside me took over and I had to have you.” He checks the wing mirror my side and clicks the indicator down. “I just want you to know that I don’t make a habit of jumping women down alleyways.” He grins at me.
    Smiling, I respond with, “Well, no apology necessary. I’m glad the beast within took over.”
    His grin becomes wider and I respond with a cheeky smile and turn to watch the road ahead.
    He’s a proper London driver, weaving in and out of lanes and occasionally being courteous. Watching him guide the gear stick around with his big hand, I slip into a daydream. His hands all over me, holding me, teasing me, grabbing me, smacking me. I can’t believe how much I enjoyed getting spanked last night and that now I’m actually fantasising about it.
    My daydream is broken when Heath honks the horn and starts waving his hands about at a blue Ford in front. I try not to laugh at him getting carried away, but I can’t help myself, so I turn to the window and titter before calming the giggles and facing forward again.
    His car is so smooth over the bumps and down the lumps in the roads, not like my little car - you can feel every pebble on the road in that tiny thing - but