After the Storm (All I've Ever Needed)(5)

Stephano stood at the unlocked office door, a look of surprise on his face, as she waved goodbye, but the feeling of triumph lasted only until the vehicle moved away from the curb. Perhaps he would have kissed her one last time before they parted. And as lame as it made her sound, knowing that he was probably on his way to meet another woman and not friends from university as he’d said, she would have still welcomed that kiss.

WHSmiths, here I come!

Natalie she sighed as she settled into a more comfortable position on the backseat of the taxi. Usually, she looked forward to the excitement of browsing the bookstore’s shelves, finding the most exciting romance novels and then spending the weekend reading. Occasionally she watched her favorite romance movies—old classics such as Splendor in the Grass and Breakfast at Tiffany’s or newer ones, Sleepless in Seattle, Love Actually and Never Been Kissed, which was the one she related to the most even though she had been kissed and wasn’t a virgin.

But nothing watched or read this weekend—no classic movie or interesting book—would eclipse what she’d shared with Stephano this evening.

***

Damn! Stephano swore as he hailed an empty taxi. Why did you have to choose to get married this weekend of all bloody weekends, Harry?

He and Natalie usually caught the Tube together from the nearby station, Knightsbridge. She then changed at Earl’s Court for the District Line to Fulham Broadway, while he continued on to Barons Court. Pressed for time this evening, he’d planned on taking a taxi with her to Earl’s Court, explaining why he was in such a rush as well as swapping mobile phone numbers on the way. She’d completely surprised him by jumping into the taxi. Needing to secure the building, he had been powerless to do anything but watch it drive away.

He had to get home, quickly have a shower and be ready with his overnight case and his ‘best man’ tuxedo when the Hummer limo arrived to collect him. He would have blown the guys and the stag night off, and traveled to Sheffield with his mother and father for the wedding tomorrow, if Harry’s bride-to-be Cheryl Jones had promised to ‘gut him like a chicken’ if he didn’t get her man to the church on time for the wedding. Having grown up with her and her two younger sisters, first in a shared house and then as a close family friend, Stephano knew how crazy the Jones sisters were. How the British-born Jamaican woman had fallen for Harry, a quiet Englishman and his best friend since university was beyond Stephano’s comprehension. Yet strangely, they complemented each other. Stephano knew firsthand that Cheryl wasn’t as ‘fierce’ as she liked to describe herself, but he didn’t want to run the risk of letting her down to see whether or not she meant her threat.

He had eagerly looked forward to Harry’s stag night and all the activities he and the guys had planned to pack into their weekend away from the capital. He had booked a room for himself for two nights and another for his parents for the night of the wedding only as his mother was keen to come back to London and her self-named restaurant, Antonietta’s, to cater for her regular Sunday diners. He had even contemplated paying for a third night’s stay at the hotel knowing that once he’d performed his duty to the groom he’d intended to have a great time, which may have necessitated an extra night’s stay at the hotel. He could have traveled from there straight to work on Monday morning.

Now the weekend had lost some of its appeal. Even though he wouldn’t have been able to see her over the weekend, it would have been good to have Natalie’s number to call her and ensure that she hadn’t suffered any ill-effects from their unrestrained sexual encounter.

He chuckled as he remembered her ‘Italian Stallion’ comment. It was flattering, but he knew he was no larger than average. What had become immediately apparent to him was the fact that although she wasn’t a virgin, she hadn’t been penetrated for some time. He should have aroused her more, he berated himself, used his fingers and his tongue to prepare her. Instead, as soon as he’d touched her slippery warmth he’d snapped and acted like a horny teenager. After months of waiting patiently for a sign, her nearness and her scent had intoxicated him. The only thing stopping him from pulling his hair out was the knowledge she hadn’t disguised the fact she’d enjoyed every minute as much as he had.

He couldn’t wait to get back to London and the office on Monday. He knew that he would be hard all day seeing her sitting just meters away from him. Many evenings as they shared the office by themselves he’d fantasized about bending her over her desk and taking her from behind, her firm backside pressed up against him. He’d often had to banish his lecherous thoughts and bring himself firmly back under control before being able to rise from his seat.