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

we continue to gossip when possible until one o’clock arrives.
    Deciding to walk to the café and help lower my carbon footprint, I hastily make my way over. Crossing the busy street on the zebra crossing I spot his car outside and casually clip clop over in my shoes, which I changed from flats to heels before leaving. Glancing through his tinted windscreen to find him absent, I head into the shop. Stepping inside and immediately picking up his manly scent that drives my mind into a spin, I inspect the room and partly follow my nose to find him sat at the back, in a low brown leather chair, doing something on his phone.
    He spots me, stands, and heads my way. In the seconds it takes for him to reach me I take in as much of him as I can. He’s in a suit again. This time it’s light grey. His shirt is white, and he’s not wearing a tie. My gaze strays down as if being pulled by a magnetic force. I struggle to meet his eyes.
    â€œAfternoon, gorgeous.” He kisses my cheek.
    â€œAfternoon,” I return, before I follow him back to where he was seated.
    He adjusts his trousers as he sits, and I eye his package again before taking the seat opposite and asking how his day has been.
    â€œNot too bad, thanks, yours?”
    Aching to tell him that I’ve told Liz all about him and how sexy he is, I instead respond with something much more boring. “Yeah, it’s been okay.”
    â€œGood, now what can I get you?”
    I pull my sideways-lip thinking face as I ponder. “A cappuccino would be nice.”
    I thank him as he stands to go and order, and watch as he struts towards the counter. His arse is hidden by his jacket and his broad shoulders scream ‘scratch me’ as the fabric tightens around them when he puts his hand into his inside pocket to retrieve his wallet.
    He brings my drink over and drops back into his chair. “Have you been thinking about me?” He grins cheekily.
    I smile with my lips on the edge of my mug. “Yes I have, as a matter of fact.”
    He leans forward over the square wooden coffee table. “And what is it you’ve been thinking?”
    â€œHonestly?” I mirror his position. “I’ve been thinking about you sucking my toes and spanking me.”
    He shuffles in his chair and gives me a raise of the eyebrows. “You have, huh?”
    I nod as I take a cube of sugar, plop it into my drink, and stir.
    â€œMe too, in fact it’s the only thing I’ve been thinking about. That, and your great arse.”
    I try to concentrate on my stirring in hope that my reddened cheeks soon return to their normal ivory.
    â€œDo you like that kind of thing?” he asks.
    I frown as I ponder the answer to his question. I look up at him. “Yeah, I suppose I do.”
    â€œReally? Have you done a lot of that stuff before?”
    I tell him I haven’t, because truth be told I haven’t really, not without stopping half way through or giggling. Anyway, I don’t want to get into the whole conversation about what I’ve tried and haven’t.
    He picks up his coffee, then chuckles.
    â€œWhat are you laughing at, you bad man?”
    â€œAt me.” He grins. “I don’t know what came over me. I just saw your pert arse and had to give it a whack. You didn’t mind, did you?” He takes a swig with his eyes glued to me, waiting for my reply.
    â€œDid it look like I minded?” I give him a sultry pout. “Actually, the first slap shocked me because I wasn’t expecting it, but no, I didn’t mind. I found it quite erotic, actually.”
    His ears prick up like a dog that’s just heard its food bowl hit the floor. “Elaborate on that last bit for me.”
    Suddenly becoming a little coy and realising that we might be overheard, I give him a disapproving look, then glance around the coffee shop. There are at least a dozen people in here and some are in close proximity.
    I nod