Saturday, 28 December 2013

Thursday, 26 December 2013

An Acute Attraction on offer!

An Acute Attraction is available to download from for just 77p and from for 99cents!!

This offer is only until New Years Day!!

Isabel's poem

Before meeting Marc, Isabel got into writing little's one of them.

When do you give up on Love?

Is it after the man you married,
Shatters your heart into a thousand pieces?

Or when you've gathered the shards, to build courage.
Only to be told, 'It's not you, it's me'?

As you're starting to heal and laugh again,
Then find pictures of his wife and family?

Or is it when your heart is scarred and cold,
To open it again would hurt too much?

Should we just give up on Love?

Friday, 13 December 2013

Thursday, 12 December 2013

Isabel's dress.

For those of you that have read An Acute Attraction you'll have read about the dinner/dance that Marc and Isabel attend.

I thoroughly enjoyed shopping for Isabel, to find the perfect dress for her and one I knew a man would appreciate.

In the end, I opted for a red and black tapework dress from John Lewis in Cambridge. It really is beautiful & would flatter any figure, even the fuller figured like Isabel. I would love to have bought it for myself...;)

A xxx

I bring great tidings.....

Hi all.

I cannot believe that Christmas is only 13 days away. I don't know about you, but this year has flown and not without its ups & downs.

One of ups definitely has to be finally fulfilling a lifetime ambition of writing a story, that story being An Acute Attraction...That was all I wanted to do, publishing it was the royal icing on the Christmas Cake!

I have to thank you all, yet again for your support in buying, reviewing, rating and spreading the word, of what has been seen by many of you as a 5 star rated book! For that I have two pieces of great news.

For those of you that do not have a kindle and/or prefer to hold a book in your hands, I have set the wheels in motion to publish the first book of The Attraction Series in paperback. It should be available before the new year if all goes to plan.

The second piece of news is, I have started to write the 2nd installment, the 2nd book which should be with you for Spring/summer 2014.

For the moment & as a thank you, here is a little teaser for you, of the yet to be titled 2nd book.

A huge thank you to you all.

A xxx

Thursday, 14 November 2013

General ramblings,new snippet and link!

Good morning/afternoon/evening to all.

(Random thinking alert!) I don't know about you guys, but I am getting pretty excited about the festive period ahead. I do know & rejoice the true meaning of Christmas, but I have to admit, here in the UK advertising designers and agents have out done themselves. If you get a chance please check out the M&S, John Smith & Sainsburys adverts on youtube....they are bloomin good.

Anyway (you can see where Isabel gets her way of thinking from!!) I'd like to post a few new links on here..

Tomorrow, Friday 15th November will be posting a snippet from An Acute Attraction. I have to warn you, that it will come with an 18+ warning.

An Acute Attraction is doing really well in some lists on Goodreads, but if you have a moment it could still really do with your vote. A new category it's been entered into is 'New Adult 2013' You can vote for it here

Anyway, have a wonderful weekend.

A x

Wednesday, 13 November 2013

Kings College, Cambridge

As many, if not all of you will be aware, An Acute Attraction is set in Cambridge, England.

It was from my visit there during the summer that I came up with the idea of the book. I am a HUGE fan of the place and can never get enough of it. 

Isabel adores the place just as much and during one scene she visits Kings College and The Chapel. Cambridge is a part of her past, present & will be in her future. It's a place that holds memories & will create new ones. The history and romanticism of the city, holds as much as Florence, Paris, London or New York, which is why I felt it was the perfect location. There will be more mentions of Cambridge and the romance of the place, with Marc & Isabel in Part 2.
If ever you get the opportunity to visit, I promise you, you will fall in love with it as well. If there is a very special time to visit, then it would have to be Christmas Eve. Here is a clip of the Christmas Eve service they have there every year, along with a photograph I took when there.

My next blog post will be on the character of Isabel. It will interesting to hear/read your thoughts on her. I purposely wanted to create a charater in a fictional story that was different from the norm, but still represented 100,000's of women out there. Please be free to post your views & opinions on this post and for the next.

A x

Tuesday, 5 November 2013

Hey there! Links & information

Hi all,

Thank you so much to all that have read my snippet, I hope you enjoyed just a little of my book. There is so much more for you to read.

With the release of An Acute Attraction, Mr Marc Sanders is already in his first 'Book Boyfriend' relationship, but he is very happy to share a part of himself. As a reader has already quoted on Amazon.UK "... and as for Marc every women should have one." 

You can download and see more reviews on the following sites: 

It is also available for download on other Amazon sites Worldwide

Readers can also download ebook from;jsessionid=67DB32F4B13833C8D129BE37B9D27304 




Thank you again for being a part of this blog & if you have left reviews, a double thank you.

Amanda xxx 

A snippet from "An Acute Attraction".

An hour after I arrive back at the hotel, I am sitting in the bar area and have just finished reading the local newspaper when I see him. Oh.My.God! I’m sure I could hear a celestial choir of angels signalling his arrival. Willing my heart to slow from its rapid beating, I take several deep breaths. Calm yourself Chambers, he’s just a man. Ok, a goddam sumptuous and heavenly looking man, but still just a man.

Distraction! Thinking of a distraction I decide to go over to the bar and order another Pinot. With a half full glass in hand I call one of the bartenders over. Realising I now look like an alcoholic; I turn to return to my seat.

“Shit!” I look upwards to where those angels could have alerted me.

Not two seats away from where my jacket is draped over a chair, Mr Fantastic is sitting back with his right foot leisurely resting on his left thigh, as he casually reads a broadsheet newspaper.

This is stupid! Deciding to get a grip of myself, I valiantly walk back to my seat, placing both of the large wine glasses on to the dark oak table. I have brought my kindle with me, if I’m honest I take it everywhere and so reaching into my bag I pull it out to find the latest, newly released book I have been reading for the past week. I’m not afraid to admit that I enjoy reading contemporary, erotic romance novels, just like the one’s you’ve read no doubt. Saying that, I’m thankful that the advantage of having a Kindle is that there is no cover to the book to advertise the fact. Starting from where I left off, I continue reading occasionally sipping at my wine.

Don’t ask me what makes me look up from my book; I must have a sixth sense or something, but when I do, Mr Fantastic is looking directly at me, with an amused look on his beautifully sculptured face.

As I am looking behind to see if there is someone else standing there, he speaks to me, yes to me!

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare at you. It’s just that you were making some rather interesting faces. Then when you giggled to yourself and bit your lip… Well I just found it amusing; in a winsome kind of way of course.”

I listen to his seductive American accent, but my sense of hearing has shut down not long after he said “interesting faces”, so his hot, sensual mouth is still moving without any of the sound coming out.

Once I see he has stopped I reply “Oh!”

You have got to be kidding me Chambers. Oh! Is that all I can say? Bloody “Oh!”

If I could, I would face plant myself on to the table right this instant, however knowing that it isn’t an option here I continue.

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to disturb you from your reading.”

“Oh you didn’t don’t worry. I found it, how can I say, cute in a way.”

Did my stomach just do a spectacular, triple axel or am I imagining it? As the row of six perfect scores goes up, I deduce that it wasn’t my imagination.

Turning his attention back to his paper, it takes me a good 5 minutes to compose myself. I need to talk to my best friend Jackie like now. This is a moment where I know I really need her and her sound, logical thinking advice. 

Sunday, 3 November 2013

Goodreads Vote

An Acute Attraction is on a voting list on Goodreads, for Novellas, Novelettes and short stories.

If you have a moment, please click on the link below and give the book a vote.

Thank you

A x

Saturday, 26 October 2013

Thank you

Thank you to all that have purchased An Acute Attraction so far. I do hope you are enjoying it and I'm looking forward to reading any reviews/feedback/constructive criticism. :)

The book is available for download on either Amazon (Worldwide) or 

A x

Friday, 25 October 2013

Available on Lulu!!

Hi there,

I have some great news that, 'An Acute Attraction' is now available to download on Lulu

Please pass on the word if you can. I appreciate all of your support, wishing I could name/thank everyone of you that have purchased &/or promoted the book.

A x

Tuesday, 22 October 2013

Publication of An Acute Attraction

Hi there,

How are you all doing. Just thought I'd let you all know that An Acute Attraction was published on to Amazon this morning.

Thank you for your support & I hope you like what I have done with the blog to develop it into a book. :)

A x

Friday, 18 October 2013

Book Cover reveal and publication

Hi all,

I have some pretty exciting news.

This evening I posted on Facebook that I will be publishing "An Acute Attraction" on Amazon over the weekend. It will be live 22/210/13.
Also tonight my book cover was revealed. You can see it on the link below. :) xxx

Monday, 14 October 2013

Great News!!!

Hi all,

Thank you for tuning in here.

I have great news in that I have now completed writing the first in a series of books.

They will be called "The Attraction Series" and yes, the initial one will still be titled "An Acute Attraction".

I am just waiting on the hot anticipated cover, which is being designed by an amazing artist who I was lucky to get to do the work.

So once that is done, we are good to go!

Thanks for sticking around.


A x

Saturday, 21 September 2013

Hi to everyone that is reading this.

I have been overwhelmed by the response of my story.

I did want to reflect that a real, full bodied woman can hopefully find love as much as a size 0 girl.

With the response I have had, I've decided to turn this story into a novel, so please bear with me while I write it. Writing isn't my full time job, and so have other commitments along side this. I am however, loving every moment of writing this story as I hope so many other women relate to it.

I will publish it ASAP & I hope you enjoy it. If you do please, please share it.

I wish you the very best.

A x

EDIT: The teasers you see have been changed in the novel. They haven't been taken out, just added to.

Thank you.

A x

Tuesday, 27 August 2013

An Acute Attraction - Excerpt


Feeling rather flushed, Marc and I right our tops brushing off twigs and dead grass. Looking up at him I see that he has the same silly grin up on his face, that I expect I am wearing. It’s the first time I notice the dimples next to his upturned mouth, I can’t help but smile even more. Dammit can this guy look any hotter. My inner woman crosses her stocking clad legs with a self-satisfied smirk- she seems to think so. I swallow hard trying not to think about it just yet. Dear God, I may just self-combust if he does. My facial expression must have changed enough to cause concern with Marc.

“Are you Ok Isabel. You've gone quite pale?”

Striding towards me Marc grabs a hold of my hand.

“Erm yes! I think I stood a bit too quickly.”

Holding me steady, I hear the worry in his voice.

“Just take a few deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

Marc demonstrates this action which I then copy. In through my nose, I inhale the musky scent of this man. Out through my mouth, I release a soft moan. I shall pass out at this rate. Repeating the action, trying to stifle the moans, I then nod my head. "I'm feeling much better now. Thank you.”

“Okay. The heat isn't helping either” he says.

You’re telling me! I think as I feel it radiating off him. Come on Chambers, snap out of it! Getting myself together I gather up the argyle blanket to give it a shake. Marc is packing away what food is remaining when I hear him clear his throat.

“I have my presentation at Christ’s College in Cambridge tomorrow. I'm afraid once we get back to the hotel I'm going to have to finish off some last minute planning.”

I smile to show that I don’t mind. After all, this is what he is over here in the UK for.

“Yes of course. I hope it goes well. It must be quite daunting to stand up in front of so many prestigious academics.”

He lets out a small laugh. “It’s not the first time I have done something like this, so it’s easier than what it was. I've done the; picturing them in their underwear, to help ease the nerves. It made it worse though when you consider that some of these men and women are 60 years old!”

I shudder at the thought of a stereotypical wrinkled body wearing nothing but Y-fronts or thermals.

“Ew! Yes. I can see how that might be.” I shudder one last time.

Looking back to Marc, I see him laughing. I really must get used to the idea that this guy quite possibly has a super power in mind reading.

It doesn't take us long to pack up and walk back to the car. Oh gawd! I have to climb back into this monster of a vehicle. So in the most ungainly manner, I manage to get into my seat. Once we get on to the road I can take in the charming Suffolk countryside. Putting my head against the rest I can’t believe how exhausted I suddenly feel. I begin to close my eyes when Marc speaks up.

“There is a formal dinner and dance tomorrow evening at the college. I’d love for you to come along as my guest.”

Let’s just say my eyes don’t stay shut for long when I have to digest what he has said. There are so many verbs and adjectives in those two sentences that scare me. You can tell I'm a teacher can’t you?

“Right”, is all I can come out with! Once I have taken in what he’s just said, I swear my heart starts to palpitate. Come on Chambers, don’t have a panic attack now. It’s not like he’s broken it to me while we’re 35,000 feet in the air. Yes I have a fear of flying, don’t laugh. This is something my best friend Jackie only recently found out when we went to Spain. Sitting next to a sobbing, hyperventilating wreck on take-off, I'm surprised she didn't slap me senseless! It took much of the 2 hour flight for her to get the circulation back into her hand, only for the same to happen on landing.

Anyway back to now. Not realising how long I had been away with the fairies for, I hear Marc say,

“So when my pants split.”

Yup! That brings me back. I turn my head sharply to him.


Marc chuckles, “Where were you? You were here in body, but certainly not in mind.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose I reply,

“Sorry. I'm sure you have just asked me if I would be your guest at a formal dinner and dance tomorrow evening.”

He looks at me briefly, “I did and I mean it. “

I think aloud, “I didn't imagine it then?”

“No Miss Chambers you didn't.”

The tone of his voice changes, worried slightly he asks, “Is that a real problem for you?”

I have to reassure him, but stumbling with my words, all of a sudden I feel coy. Taking a deep breath, I twist in my seat to face him.

“I've never been to a formal dinner and dance before. I've no idea what the etiquette is for these events and at such a distinguished venue I…”

Not knowing how to finish the sentence I trail off. Marc still manages to fathom out what I'm trying to say. Taking one hand off the steering wheel, he reaches for my hand.

“You have absolutely nothing to worry about. It’s no different to any other event like this. I suppose the word Formal does make it sound quite scary, the only formality is the dress code.”

Precisely I think to myself, another problem.

“I assume you’re saying its black tie for you and formal dresses or gowns for the ladies? I don’t own anything like that, never mind just happen to have it in my suitcase.”

I'm not being sarcastic, only truthful. I feel Marc squeeze my hand a little.

“I had thought about that, so what I'm going to suggest to you now I don’t want you saying no to. After all you’ll be doing me a huge favour by accompanying me to what could well be a tedious evening, as well as being; a beautiful, intelligent, funny companion.”

I hit him in jest. “Give over. You've done this before remember.”

He feigns the pain on his arm where I hit him. I see the humour in his eyes however.

“Exactly so I know what they can be like. Please Isabel. I’d like for you to go shopping for an outfit tomorrow. It’ll be on me as I'm the one that has dropped this bombshell on to you. So it’s the least I can do.”

I start to say “But!” when he interrupts.

“No buts Isabel. Let me do this this, and say yes.” He looks over at me with over exaggerated puppy dog eyes.

I sigh, “Yes, yes Ok. I can go into Cambridge while you’re at the University.”

I hear him release at a breath. He must have been holding on to it while waiting for my answer. I lace my fingers with his and rest our hands in his lap.

“Thank you”, I hear him softly say.


Once we’re back at the hotel we both go up to our rooms. I'm completely worn out, God only knows how Marc must feel and he has to work now. I enter my room and head over to the bed dropping on to it.

Waking to the low sun, I must have crashed out as soon as my head had hit the pillow. Still dressed in the clothes from earlier, I feel the dampness on the pillow where I have been sleeping open mouthed. Feeling for my phone I look at the time. 7pm! Crap! 3 hours I've been out for. I read that I have one message off Marc, 2 messages and 4 missed phone calls off Jackie. I quickly scan Marc’s.

“Evening Beautiful. I hope you slept well. If you’re still sleeping, say hello when you wake.”

I text him back. “Evening Handsome. I've just risen from my pit. I slept like a log. Just need to text Jackie then I’ll call you.”

My phone alerts me of his instant reply. “No worries”

I sit myself up and prop my back against the head board. Having a feeling I'm entering the lion’s den I read the first message off Jackie.

“Hi hun. How’s sleepy Suffolk and Cambridge? Hope you’re having fun and text me as soon as you read this this. Love ya. xx”

I notice that was sent only 20 minutes after I had fell asleep. So not surprisingly, Jackie’s next message is well, not as loving.

“ISABEL CHAMBERS, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? You never leave it this long to text back. So this means you've either been kidnapped by gangsters or abducted by aliens! You had better call me within the next few hours or else I'm getting on that train. Shit Izzy, where are you?”

Apart from the shouty caps, I know when Jackie is annoyed with me. It’s the only time she uses my full name. Guilt twists in my stomach. Here goes nothing. Dialling her number, Jackie answers so fast she must have been sitting on the darn thing. Having to retreat away from the handset I hear her shouting down the phone.

“Isabel Chambers, where the hell have you been? I've been sitting here fretting about you. You could have been lying in a gutter!”

I hear her take a breath, waiting for the next onslaught of words I don’t speak. When they don’t come I put my ear to the back to the phone. Jackie sighs and continues in a softer voice. I think she may have got it out of her system now!

“Heck Izzy, I've been so worried and when you didn't answer the phone as well.”

Understanding how she feels, as I’d have felt exactly the same had the tables been turned. I close my eyes and let out a breath. For the next 10 minutes or so I explain to my wonderful, caring friend what has happened during my stay so far. Not going into too much information, obviously.

“You sly woman you!” is all she can say.

Promising to text her every day, we both hang up relieved. Despite the sleep I have had, I don’t fancy doing much. So I text Marc letting him know that I'm awake, live and kicking, but just want to veg out for the rest of the night. Reading Marc’s reply makes me giggle. I forget that he’s from across the pond, so most of our British slang can get lost in translation. Sending him another text, I reassure him that I have not turned into a turnip and that his offer of vegging out with him is indeed an offer I can’t refuse. He tells me he has to work, but I'm still welcome. So I shower to freshen up and throw on some yoga trousers and a slouchy top.

I knock on his door and what stands before me is nothing short of a portrait of an idol. Stood bare foot again Marc wears his faded jeans with a black V-neck T-shirt. For the first time I see him with his black rimmed glasses on.

“Isabel, close your mouth. You’ll be catching flies soon.”

I promptly shut my gaping mouth. What? You’d do the same if you saw him!

Standing aside Marc gestures me in to the room. For the rest of the evening both of us are sitting on the sofa; Marc is busy on his laptop, while I'm sat snugly with my feet resting in-between his rock hard thighs and the seat. There’s very little chatter as I watch Hitcock’s Rear Window. That is how the evening continues and it is perfect.

Feeling rested and happy, Marc and I eat breakfast together in the lounge and he fills me in on his day ahead. I listen intently, but yet again I haven’t the foggiest about some of what he is coming out with.

“…a deficiency of lymphocytes can cause the immune system to cease working properly…”

As I say I'm listening, but!

 By 10am we’re full and ready to go. Marc offers me a lift into Cambridge seeing as we are both heading that way. On the drive in, it’s amazing to see the eclectic mix of architecture; from the modern day 3 bedroomed build to Art Deco mansions and 1970’s office block disasters to breath taking Victorian houses. Christ’s College is in the centre of the city right next to the shopping malls, so conveniently located for us both. The day is hot and sunny, so the sheen on Marc’s black 3-piece suit makes him stand out even more. I feel under dressed in my maxi dress and sandals, but for what I have in store today it’s just right. Marc collects his leather briefcase and laptop from off the back seat before coming around the car to say goodbye.

“Remember don’t be afraid to spend the money I've given you. Buy whatever you feel comfortable in, not what you think others should see you wearing. Tonight is for you and me, no-one else.”

With that he brings his head down to kiss me. The touch of his lips alone turns my head to mush, but when I feel his warm tongue, that’s it I'm done for! Marc grins knowing the effect he’s had.

“Go on Miss Chambers, you go and do what all women love to do. Enjoy yourself and I’ll text you in a bit.”
He kisses me on the cheek before heading over to the Porters’ Lodge.

It’s just after 1pm and I still haven’t found the perfect outfit. Even with Cambridge prices I have enough money, but unfortunately not the right body type for the small independent boutiques that lie in the side streets. I have so many scenes from Pretty Woman running through my head. Different circumstances obviously, but the same sentimental reasons; I'm different and no model! I feel I could cry at this point, so needing to take some time out, I decide to find somewhere for lunch.
Not wanting to break the diet I avoid the usual fast food outlets and head for an Italian restaurant named Don Pasquale. With its large green parasols covering the majority of the outdoor seating area next to the market, I know it will offer welcomed shade and light relief from the sun. Spotting a small table right next to the barrier that lines the street, I go over to it. The tables are all quite close together, but the ambience is calm and it doesn't feel crowded. Sitting down I scan the menu. What the heck, I’ll eat something healthy and treat myself to a refreshing glass of Rose. As the waiter arrives I order the Salmone Affumicato; Salmon and king prawn salad to you and me! I sit back to soak up the atmosphere when my phone whistles at me. Retrieving it from my bag I see it’s a text from Marc as he promised. Setting my phone to silent first I proceed to read and swap messages with him.

“Hey, how’s it going? Where are you?”

I know it will be a mixed message I'm giving him, but I want to be honest.

“Hey. It could be better. Not found anything as yet. Just stopped for some lunch. How are you?”

“That doesn't sound good. You’ll find something I'm sure. I'm fine, we've just stopped for lunch as well and then I’ll be doing the presentation.”

I smile at his optimism. “I'm sure I will also. You go knock ‘em dead Mr Sanders.”

“Haha!! I will do Miss Chambers.”

I'm just typing my reply when another message comes through. Don’t you just hate it when that happens? Anyway, I delete what I have started and read what’s been sent.

“How daring do you feel?”

Frowning to what’s on the screen I type, “That’s a bit cryptic. What do you mean?”

“Take a look around you, then you can judge how daring you are as I ask you to touch yourself.”

Yup! My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets too! The thing is, I know what he is asking me to do and the adrenalin has rushed to all of the right places on my body. My nipples harden to peaks against my white lace bra. My stomach does a somersault and the hairs on my arms stand on end. My sex clenches and yes, I even bite my lip. What sways my decision is that he is asking me and not telling me to do it. He’s giving me the option. Taking in my surroundings, I can tell by the layout of the place and where I'm sitting nobody would notice.

“Okay then, where?”

I'm not sure if that was the answer he thought he was going to get, as it takes a little time for him to reply.

My phone vibrates, “Your nipples, pinch them through your dress.”

Licking my now dry lips, I look up through my eye lashes checking the other diners out. No-one is looking at me, so I nonchalantly look towards the market. Leaning more onto the table I cross my arms and then with the fingers and thumb on my left hand I pinch my right nipple. I don’t stop there though, the electric surge I get from my breast encourages me to tweak, twist and turn it. Another text comes through.

“Did you do it?”


“How did it feel?”

I tell him honestly, “Amazing, electric…Hot!”

It takes a couple of minutes for the next message to come through.

“Good, I thought you might like it. Now I’d like you to touch yourself between your thighs. I want you to pretend that it’s my hand there. I want you to feel how wet your panties are for me, cos I know it will be because of me that you are wet.”

With shaking hands through excitement and not nerves, all I can type is, “Ok.”

It’s not that I don’t want to do this, but I pause wondering how I'm going to do it. My dress is long. Cashing in on my clumsiness I push a knife that is on the right of the table to the floor. With a clatter of metal against stone, the noise attracts a little attention from a woman on the next table. I smile and apologise, then she continues with her conversation. Apprehensively I reach down to pick it back up all the time looking around me. Grabbing the knife I don’t bring my hand up straight away. Instead I pull the hem of my dress up, hooking it above my knee. I shift in position a little so that I am able to bring the dress up my thigh and, rest the knife in between my leg and the seat of the chair. Feeling the air brush against my skin is enough for me to swiftly inhale. Thinking back to yesterday, we were outside then, but this is totally off the scale. An envelope symbol appears on the screen of my phone, opening the message it reads,

“Tell me what you are doing.”

It’s a good job I'm left handed, bloody hell!

“I've pulled the skirt of my dress up. I can feel your hand against my thigh.”

“Humm! That’s right baby. Now stroke the inside of your thigh.”

Casually I observe the happenings in the market which covers up the fact, that inside I am aroused to high heaven. I spread my legs a little and stroke the whole of that area. Slowly up and down, my fingers skim over the sensitive skin.

“Are you turned on by it Isabel?” is the next message.

“Yes” I type and I'm positive he’ll know that my breathing will have increased a touch.

“Good, I am with you baby. Now touch your panties. I want to be able to feel how wet they are. Slowly rub your clit like I did it.”

Without hesitation I do what he asks. I need this; I'm too far gone to want it to stop. As I hitch the skirt up further I touch the silk material and feel the dampness that has already soaked through. I hiss through my teeth as I touch my clit. The exertion of holding back the moans that are dying to escape from deep within my throat is causing beads of sweat to accumulate on my brow. I have to text him,

“I don’t know how long I can carry on, I'm getting close.”

Which is true! I'm so close to bringing myself to orgasm in a freaking restaurant. Marc’s reply is short.

“Do it!”

I curse repeatedly in my head. I have to bite my lip so hard I may draw blood. Grasping at a glass of water with my left hand, I bring it to my mouth so that I can gruffly moan into it as I tip over the edge of orgasmic oblivion.

Giving myself a couple of minutes to pull back together the seams that have been ripped apart, I straighten my dress again and place the knife back on to the table. Before I can type out a text the screen illuminates.

“Did you come for me Isabel?”

Understatement of the year so far goes to…

“Yes I did Marc and it was freaking awesome.” Sorry but I can’t hold back on the truth.

“Good. If it was as awesome for you as it was for me, then you must have one heck of a smile on your face.”

Confused by his text I decide to call him. 

“Hey!” he says.

“Marc, where are you?”

“Sitting in the car. I thought it was best to do what I was doing in private.”  

Cupping my mouth to mute the piercing cry of shock, I then start to laugh.

After that lunch flew by. The food was delicious by the way; I’d recommend it to anyone. Walking with a bounce in my step I felt more confident about myself. Was that his plan? Shaking my head I think to myself, I'm going to pick something to wear that will be for me and for Marc.

Wednesday, 21 August 2013

An Acute Attraction- Part 2

One month earlier:

“It will do you the world of good Izzy”.

Blowing my piping hot cappuccino to cool it down, I half listen to my best friend Jackie and half to the little voice in the back of my head saying I’m nuts!

“You really deserve this. Being a working single mother is tough. You can’t switch off from it. You need to be there emotionally 24hours a day, 7 days a week. The boys are growing up now though, it’s time to think about you for a short time.”

I know Jackie is right. I’ve been on my own for 3 years since “he who shall not be named” left. It was the best thing to happen to us and I became a far stronger woman through it. Now however, I am starting to feel lost and lonely. I love my children to bits, don’t get me wrong, but something is missing! What that is I have yet to find out. Is it the lack of male companionship? Or is it that I need to discover myself again, start living my life, go places and make discoveries? I sigh to myself.

“It’s the first time I’ve ever done anything like this before and a week on my own is a long time.”

Whilst stirring her coffee Jackie looks at me, trying to make eye contact.

“You won’t be totally on your own. I’m only a phone call away. You’re a people person Izzy, you’re not afraid to meet new folk. You’ll be fine, I know you will.”

Again she’s right, when isn’t she? The pros certainly outweigh the cons. What the heck, come on Chambers. Do it!


I really didn’t have a definite plan on how this week was going to pan out. So to now be lying naked on my stomach, with an almighty grin and my fiery red hair spread seductively across the pillow was a good start I guess. Turning toward the window I see the Sunday sunlight streaming through the opened curtains- closing my eyes again I pinch my arm to make sure I didn’t dream any of the previous night. Feeling the bed move slightly behind me, a gentle hand moves my hair from off of my shoulders and presses a tender kiss up on the nape of my neck; which makes me go all goose-pimply. It is enough of a sign to tell me I wasn’t.

“Good morning Beautiful. I trust you slept well.”

Turning my head to see all of the 6ft 2inches of American stud Marc Sanders, before me is a vision. There goes that choir of angels again! Standing tall with his manly hands holding the white towel, that is wrapped around him, low on his narrow hips. I can’t stop my eyes from taking in this statue of a man in. Strong defined legs and taut abdomen shows me that Marc looks after himself. I must be staring for a fraction too long as he then says:

“Enjoying the view Miss Chambers?”

The blush instantly sweeps over my face and I smirk at the same time, as I hear the humour in his voice.
Leaning up I rest my head in the palm of my hand, exposing a little of my milk white breast. His oceanic green eyes notice this and seeing them dilate, my inner woman starts to do backstroke as I am drawn into them.

“Enjoying the view Mr Sanders,” I laugh, swearing I saw the towel twitch.

Clearing his throat, he runs his fingers through his hair, still wet from showering. This action alone is so innocently sexy, I swallow hard. Smiling provocatively he replies,

“That I was Miss Chambers. That I was.”

My stomach clenches. Watching him return to the bathroom I feel strangely cold at the loss of him. Damn Chambers, when did your lottery ticket come in? I bite my lip at the thoughts rushing through my head.  Finding a white robe at the end of the King size bed, I stand to slip my arms into it, wrap it tight around me and tie the sash into a knot. Glancing around the room I spot a breakfast tray that contains a banquet of food, on a small table near to the door. Assuming nothing, I walk into the seating area of the room. Observing the sofa I have flashbacks of the night before. My hand reaches for my throat afraid that my rapidly beating heart will jump out. His warm tongue! I close my eyes recalling how it stroked the junction at my thighs. His strong hands fondling my breast! My chest rises and falls to accommodate the air I’m taking in as I’m breathing heavily. I smell the opulent scent of Marc before I see or hear him approach from behind.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I called the reception to have breakfast brought up to us. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so requested that they bring a little of everything they had.”

Marc walks past me carrying what turns out to be, one of two trays of goodies. I notice he’s changed into a pair of faded, worn jeans and an off grey plain t-shirt. He looks so casual, so different, and so utterly and totally gorgeous. What really gets my attention are his bare feet- before you even think about it, I do not have a foot fetish….until now! He must be a size 13 shoe, perfect toes. No gross big toe or a stumpy little one that sticks out….perfect! Bending at the waist to place the tray down, I now have the splendid experience of a floor show displaying his ass! I must swoon out loud, as without turning around to see me Marc says,

“Enjoying the view Miss Chambers?”

Caught red handed, guilty as charged. No point me even denying that I was totally checking this guy’s ass out. So without even bothering to think of an excuse, I just come out with it;

“It is one mighty fine view Mr Sanders, it would be a shame not to enjoy such a welcome sight.”

Whole heartedly laughing, he stands to face me again. “I’m glad I was able to provide such a sight for you then. Come, we must eat.”

Viewing the variety of treats before me I see there are Croissants to fresh fruit, muffins to cereal and yoghurt to a selection of juices. You name it, it’s there.

“Wow! I don’t know what to say”, which is true. I’m astounded at the thought he’s put into this.
My stomach rumbles its approval of what it sees. Marc gestures for me to sit on the sofa. I cannot stop the heat that rises to my cheeks. I curse silently and try to control myself. Chambers, sort it out. I sense that Marc is laughing at me yet again, having possibly read my mind.

“What delights may I tempt you with Miss Chambers? Can I interest you in a banana or some yoghurt perhaps?”

I may have only known this guy less than 24 hours, but I know a double entendre when I hear one. So rolling my eyes and shaking my head, I think to myself; two can play at this game.

“Mmm!! I think I’ll have some strawberries please.”

Raising one of his eyebrows, he knows the game is on!! “As you wish” he says.

Trying his best to keep his serious face on, Marc places six and then seven, delectable looking strawberries into a bowl for me. To hand the bowl over is not in his game plan. He slowly strolls forward. I lift my feet on to the sofa so that they are curled around to the side of me. This movement causes my robe to slide open revealing my shapely legs. One side of his mouth lifts into a half smile, in a decidedly wicked way.  While mine suddenly goes dry. Have I taken on more than I can chew?
I’d usually be shy having had that happen and cover myself back up- however he seems to be undressing me with his eyes and I don’t feel embarrassed by what he sees. Sitting down on the floor in front of me he cheekily glides his right hand along my exposed thigh. My eyes close in an involuntary way, my head is humming.

“Did you know that strawberries are classed as an aphrodisiac?”

Not able to keep a straight face as he says that, he sees my eyes sparkling with the thoughts that I have running through my mind.

“I did yes. I’m not sure how true that is though. You’d have a lot of horny people after a day out to watch tennis at Wimbledon!”

Marc throws his head back as he lets out a roar of laughter. He has the most amazing sound; deep and full of heart. Once he’s composed himself, he picks one of the strawberries up and offers it to me. Tantalisingly slowly I take it between my teeth and bite. Marc has his thumb there at the ready to wipe the juice that runs down my chin. Automatically I cup my hand to catch any that drips. I take the half I have bitten off into my mouth and start to chew as I watch Marc suck the sticky red liquid from his thumb. I physically feel my pupils dilate as it is the most erotic movement I have ever seen. I’m still chewing when Marc says,

“Is it ever likely the Romans had the best orgies if this is anything to go by?”

How I don’t choke on what was in my mouth is a miracle, but in the most un-lady like fashion I can’t stop coughing on the seeds I inhaled on hearing that. Standing so I can get my breath, Marc gets to his feet and rubs my back. I can't quite make my mind up which has the redder complexion, the fruit in the bowl or my face!

“Are you Ok Isabel?”

Even though his words are said with concern, I hear the amusement in his voice. All I can do is nod as my breathing returns to normal.  Finally able to talk I reply,

“Yes I’m fine. Thank you.”

Marc looks down at me, with his right hand still firmly fixed to my back. With his other hand he lifts my chin so that I’m looking directly up at him. I anticipate what happens next, so when I feel the warmth Marc’s mouth on mine I welcome it. Raising my hands to his waist, the kiss intensifies. The hand that lifted my chin moves around, so long fingers rake into my hair and hold me to him. There is no roughness to the kiss, just pure desire. It takes some effort for us to break away from one another. When we do Marc rests his forehead against mine. Running his fingers down the length of my hair, he exhales heavily.

“Good God Isabel. We will never leave this room if we carry on like this.”

As he says that Marc moves away and I notice him adjusting himself in his trousers. Did I really do that to him? I smile; my inner woman is blowing freshly painted nails. I caused that reaction to Marc Sanders. Go me!

The next hour passes by with us eating our breakfast, chatting about anything and Marc reading the Sunday paper while I shower. I dress in the only clothes I have which are from last night. I can change back in my room. Once I’ve gathered my belongings I awkwardly walk towards the front door. Fidgeting with my bag I look over towards Marc.

“Well thank you for a wonderful night and morning. I really did enjoy it.”

Leaning his head to one side Marc pauses as though he is considering what he is to say next.

“What do you have planned for the rest of the day? I’d really like it if we could spend it together. There is a lovely House I want to visit and I’d be honoured if you say yes to coming with me.”

Even though I’m surprised by his invitation, I cannot think of anything else I’d rather do. So it’s no surprise when I accept.

“I’d love to. Let me get changed and I will be right with you.”

Marc nods with a smile, stands and walks over. Before opening the door, he bends to kiss my cheek.
“I’ll wait down stairs in the lounge. Once you’re ready I’ll drive us there.

I have always taken an interest in British history, especially when it comes to our monarchy and aristocracy. So here we are driving up a long drive way in Marc’s hired black Mercedes M Class. Its plush, comfortable interior is everything I expected and more. It's only when I come to get out of the beast of a car, I realise that for a not so tall 5 foot 3 inch woman like me there is no flattering way of doing it. If I was to own one, which would be like never, I’d have to have a retractable step ladder fitted to it! So thank goodness Marc comes around to help me. Once out of the car we see Ickworth House in all its grandeur.

Situated in the county of Suffolk, its surroundings are as picturesque as the house itself. The Georgian Building built in 1795 houses a history of scandal and controversy, brought together by the Hervey family, particularly the Marquess of Bristol; an eccentric man who is described as having a passion for art, Italy and enjoying a darn good party! You can definitely see the influences in the beautiful Italianate gardens; expertly trimmed trees, box hedges and bushes. Walking around them with this incredibly handsome man beside me, I can see he’d look every bit at home here. As time passes, I’m glad I wore my flat sandals, blue cropped trousers and white tunic top, as feeling the stones crunch under foot and the heat radiating off the grass would have been uncomfortable had I not.

Sitting on a low wall looking towards the snow white house and its dome that covers the main part of the building, I sigh with happiness. For most of the morning we have talked about the surroundings and the intriguing history of the place. Any silent moments never felt awkward, just being able to share this moment with the man sat next to me was enough. Looking at his Rolex watch, Marc then nudges me with his shoulder.

“Are you hungry?”

Realising I felt quite ravenous I nodded.

“I am actually. What do you fancy?”

Staring at me with hungry eyes tells me what he fancied. With a butterfly sensation in my stomach, I knew the effect he must be having further down. I squeeze my thighs together to halt what is happening. Jeez, how does this guy do it? When that doesn’t work I break the eye contact. I hear his smile.

“I have a picnic basket in the back of the car. I’ll grab it and we can find somewhere to sit.”

 Frowning I think back. When did he find the time to put together a picnic? Reading my mind he adds,

“I asked the manager if the kitchen would be able to put one together for us, while you were in the shower.”

I raise my eyebrows at him, “You hadn’t asked me at that point, so how did you know I would say yes?”

Laughing he says, “I didn’t. If you had said no, I’d have one big picnic all to myself.”

I can’t help but laugh with him and at the nerve of him to assume. I shake my head and watch him stand; he stretches out a hand for me to take.

“We must take some pictures before we leave,” I suggest, “It would be a shame not to while we’re here.”

“I agree Miss Chambers, it would be”.

With that Marc takes out his iphone and points it in my direction.

“Not of me, the house”, I squeal as I put my hands up to cover my face.

Chuckling he says, “Why can’t I have two beauties in a picture?”

Crossing my arms in front of me I pout, “Are you mocking me Mr Sanders?”

As quick as a flash he replies “Never!” And takes the most unflattering picture I have ever seen, which he finds all the more hilarious. This only makes me pout more like a sulky teenager.

“I believe it’s your turn Mr Sanders”

A few more photographs are taken of both of us, even a couple with both of us in; with an outstretched arm he takes some quite good ones. Well nothing can be worse than the first one he took!
Once we’re done with laced fingers we stroll back to the car.

While Marc carries the hamper, I help by carrying the large argyle blanket that also mysteriously appears. Having the pick of acres of land, we choose a shaded area in a small clearing amongst the trees that must be hundreds of years old. They stand tall and proud, as though looking over and protecting us. We devour the feast that has been prepared for us and then lay back on the blanket. Marc lies with one arm behind his head and his ankles crossed, looking relaxed and satisfied. Having folded up a jumper, I rest my head back happy and content. Just then Marc rolls on to his side, faces me and his voice breaks the silence.

“How is it you have never found happiness?”

Feeling him move a strand of hair away from my mouth I reply truthfully.

“I thought I had at the time. Unfortunately happiness got lost along the way through the actions of others.”
I turn to face him. “What about you? You’re an attractive, intelligent guy. I find it hard to believe that you’re on your own.”

“Believe it. I’ve had relationships, maybe a few too many. Once they see that money isn’t everything they pack up and leave.”

I feel the frustration he must be feeling.

“I admit having money must be wonderful. Not having to worry as much, being able to do what you want when you want to. I’ve never experienced that, but being in this position I am appreciating so much more. I’m not saying people with money don’t, but I can appreciate what it’s like to go without as well as the excitement of going with. In the end if a person is happy that’s all that matters.”

There’s a couple of seconds of stillness and quiet before Marc brings his head down to kiss me. The softness of his lips is enticing. He rests one hand on my stomach and the other above my head for balance. We don’t rush. There’s no-one else around, only us. I moan softly into his mouth. I feel the need to touch him, so bring my hand up to his cheek. The connection between us makes my skin tingle. Gradually Marc’s hand skims over my top, down towards the apex at my thighs. I instinctively open my legs so as to allow his hand to touch me there. He accepts the invitation. My breathing starts to quicken. Breaking away from his lips I whisper,

“Please Marc.”

At those two words Marc shifts down my body. Feeling his breath on my neck, I tilt my head back so that he has better access to allow him to trail feather like kisses down the side, creeping ever closer to my breast. I need more. I need to feel his skin against mine. I nonchalantly reach for the hem of his t-shirt, bringing it up over his head. Stretching his arms above him allows me to see his perfect torso. Oh my! My heart does literally skip a bit, and here’s me thinking that only happens in romance novels! I lean forward to kiss his throat and down towards his midriff. Returning his attention to me Marc removes my top, inhaling sharply as he sees my voluptuous bosom.

“My Miss Chambers, I don’t believe I’ve had my dessert yet!”

I giggle like a school girl, yes I know, when he bends down to kiss my breast. Marc shifts his body so that he is now straddling my hips. Looking down to where he is sitting on me, I have no need to ask if he’s enjoying himself! The waves of emotion I feel at that point overwhelm me.  Covering his body with mine we are lost. We’re in our own little bubble and nobody or anything around us exists.



Thursday, 15 August 2013

An Acute Attraction Part 1

This is exactly what I, Isabel Chambers, need. Being a single mother to two, weekends like this never come along!
Working as a teacher certainly has its perks, especially when it comes to the summer holidays. This year however, is the first time that “number one” son is old enough to stay home alone and “number two” son is spending a fun packed weekend with his grandparents.
Sat in the swanky hotel lounge, I can smell the luxury of the leather upholstery. I make sure I am sitting in a prime position so that I can participate in my third…no fourth favourite hobby…People Watching! I’ll let you guess the first three. The Haveril Lodge isn’t particularly busy, but whilst sipping on a cool glass of Pinot Grigio, I am witnessing a steady stream of comings and goings.
There is a group of Spanish men, dressed in jeans, t-shirts or polo shirts. On their feet they wear cement splattered boots….Ah! They’re building a new science park down the road; an ideal location, with it being twenty minutes from Cambridge.
A middle aged couple, both smartly dressed then attracts my attention. The gentleman, greying slightly, carries a suit with its protective cover and a black holdall. His petite wife, or partner, following him holds a hat box in one hand and wheels a small suitcase with the other….Wedding! I’d put my money on them attending a wedding.
I smile to myself. Weddings! I silently toast the happy couple. Good luck to them, they’ll need it at some point in their joyous life together. Not that I’m bitter or anything. Having reached for my glass, I take a mouthful of the ever so sweet liquid. Not sweet in taste, but sweet for the situation I’m in now. I slowly close my eyes savouring the taste, sighing with happiness. Opening them again I look up……
Holding back a cough and splutter I cover my mouth with my hand, so as not to lose any of the precious nectar I’m holding. Oh my! I intently watch the next guest to arrive in the reception, for all I know he could be walking on water for how his streamlined and buff body glides to the desk. Shifting in my seat, I try my best to hear the conversation between this God of a man and the receptionist. Standing at least 6ft tall, he pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he leans over the desk. Although his dark brown hair isn’t especially long, the front strands flop deliciously over his face.
It’s only when I feel the cold wine being spilled on to my lap, I realise I’ve been holding my breath. Dammit! I stand putting my glass down on to the table in front of me. Wiping my now wet trousers down, I curse to myself. Embarrassed and blushing furiously, I look around to make sure nobody has seen me make a complete ass of myself. Oh God, please don’t let him have seen. Glancing over to the desk I notice he’s not there. Should I be relieved? What if he saw the whole spectacle? Dropping heavily into my seat I yet again curse.
“Well done Miss Chambers, well done”, I say to myself.
Hoping that a shower will dispel the smell of humiliation as well as alcohol, I head to my room. As rooms go in a hotel, number 112 is sufficient. It had nearly everything I needed for a short stay:  Soft double bed; needed more pillows though: a hair dryer;  TV; tea and coffee making facilities; a view over the car park; and a power shower lacking in the power department.
Ok so it was adequate.
Now, I’m not a body confident woman. A size 18-20, but having lost 2 & a half stone, dropped 3 dress sizes I was getting better…until I step into a shower that has floor to ceiling mirrors surrounding it – room downgraded again!
Despite all of that, the Non-power shower has been refreshing. Now sat at the dresser, my red/auburn tresses piled high in a towel; I apply the new vanilla scented body lotion I treated myself to. Inhaling such a sweet aroma meant I can almost taste it. Would it be the same for the mystery guy? Shaking such thoughts from my mind, I continue to get ready for the evening. Sliding into the knee length dress, straightening my hair and applying a little make –up I am almost ready. Being 39, I don’t go mad. Without being too modest, I feel and look pretty good, airing on sexy.
I opt to dine in a restaurant a couple of blocks away. It is the mouth-watering smell of steaks being grilled that entices me in. Inside the atmosphere is set with low lighting, easy listening background music and cheerful chatter. Needless to say the food tastes as good as it smells. So leaving feeling happy and full, I saunter back to the hotel.
According to the reception clock it is 9.30pm by the time I get back. The bar is open 24/7 so I know I can sit and relax. An hour or so later I see him. Oh.My.God! I’m sure I could hear a choir of angels signalling his arrival. Willing my heart to slow from its rapid beating, I take several deep breaths. Calm yourself Chambers, he’s just a man. Ok, a goddam gorgeous and heavenly looking man, but still just a man.
Distraction! Thinking of a distraction I decide to go over to the bar and order another Pinot. With a half full glass in hand I call the bartender over. Realising I now look like an alcoholic; I turn to return to my seat.
Not two seats away from where my jacket is draped over a chair, Mr Fantastic is sitting back with his right foot leisurely resting on his left thigh, as he casually reads a newspaper.
This is stupid! Deciding to get a grip of myself, I walk back to my seat, placing both of my large wine glasses on the table. I have brought my kindle with me, so reaching into my bag I pull it out and find the book I have been reading. I’m not afraid to admit that I enjoy reading contempory, erotic romance novels. Saying that, thankfully the advantage of having a Kindle is there is no cover to the book to advertise the fact. Starting from where I left off, I continue reading occasionally sipping at my wine.
What makes me look up from my book, I have no idea. When I do though, Mr Fantastic is looking directly at me, with an amused smile on his beautifully sculptured face
As I’m looking behind to see if there is someone standing there, he speaks to me.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just that you were making some interesting faces. Then when you giggled to yourself and bit your lip… Well I just found it amusing; in a nice way of course.”
I listen to his velvety American accent, but my sense of hearing has shut down not long after he said “interesting faces”, so his hot, sensual mouth is moving without the sound coming out.
Once he has stopped I reply “Oh!”
WTF, is that all I can say? Bloody “Oh!”
If I could, I’d face plant myself on to the table. Knowing that it isn’t an option I continue.
“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“Oh you didn’t. I found it, how can I say, cute in a way.”
Did my stomach just do a perfect, triple axel or am I imagining it?
As he goes back to his paper, it takes me a good 5 minutes to compose myself. I need to talk to my best friend, Jackie; this is a moment where I know I really need her.
Jackie lives up to her name. Her mum had loved the elegance and sophistication of Jackie Onassis, widow to JFK and married to multi-millionaire Aristotle Onassis. My Jackie wears her “Hollywood” sunglasses with the same flair and grace, ever likely then she is a hit with the men. A happily married career woman with a beautiful daughter, she has it all. I am so proud of her.
Hastily I send her a text.
“There’s one guy sitting in the bar. I am a sexually frustrated woman and right now could just jump his bones.”
Within no time my phone whistles, yes whistles, its reply. I quickly set my phone to silent before I read and continue to exchange messages.
“Is he cute?”
“Cute!! He is hot, he is smouldering, and he is oozing sex!”
“So he’s ok then? Hahaha!”
“Well, flash him a smile and bat your eyelashes”
Great advice, I think sarcastically rolling my eyes.
I type out;
“Haha! If only that’s all it took…”
“Well you have to start somewhere. Be brave, you won’t ever be there again.”
How true are those words. Bravery is something that doesn’t come easy to me though.
Taking a deep breath, I wait for a moment where he isn’t engrossed in his newspaper. So when he puts it to one side to take a sip of his red wine, I dive in… Not literally of course.
“It’s quiet in here tonight,” I say in his direction. Inwardly I cringe at such a naff statement.
“I don’t know what it’s usually like as it’s my first time staying here.”
My inner woman is doing a merry dance right now. He didn’t guffaw at my lame attempt to start a conversation - just don’t mess it up now. 
“Oh right. Are you here for a holiday, short break?” I nervously ask.
He sounds so cool and confident when he explains to me that he’s here on business so to speak.
Marc, I later find out is his name, is a senior research executive at Harvard University. In two days’ time he’ll be presenting his medical findings at Cambridge University on a new development into how antibodies help fight diseases, leading to better vaccines. We converse for about an hour or so, talking about ourselves.
Showing him I understand a word he is talking about is difficult. I may be a teacher, but this isn’t something I come across when planning lessons for eight year olds. I am interested though. So when he excuses himself to go to the bathroom, I whip my phone out and call Jackie. I fill her in and seeing as her career background is in medical supplies, I assume she can help me.
“Izzy, unless he is a consultant or researches the pros and cons of penile extensions, I’m not much help, I’m afraid.”
Sighing and sitting back in my chair, I play with the soft material of my dress.
This guy is way too smart for me. No way would he even consider looking at or talking with me in any other circumstance.  I may as well give up now.
Still lost in thought, I jump at the sound of Marc’s voice next to me.
“I have a bottle of Highland Park Whisky in my room. You’re very welcome to join me for a glass.”
Taken back a little by this invite, I then graciously accept.
My inner woman is now doing a tango whilst holding a rose in between her teeth.
Picking up our belongings we ascend the stairs to the same floor as I am on. Stopping just 3 doors short of my room, Marc uses his key card to unlock the door marked “Executive Suite”. This being yet another first for me, I tentively walk in to the most amazing hotel suite I have ever seen. On the left through the door is the luxurious bathroom which house’s twin basins, a roll top bath and a shower that could easily accommodate two people.
I clear my throat to halt where my mind is going, as he leads me into a stunning sitting room. I notice a chaise longue by one of the two windows, two Chesterfield sofas, a walnut coffee table, also various other expensive looking furniture. Are we really staying in the same hotel?
I walk over to one of the windows. With this being a corner room, Marc has both a view of the car park and the spectacular lake that adorns the grounds at the rear. It is lit with soft lighting that is scattered around the edge.
I’m brought back to the here and now as I feel the presence of Marc behind me. The heat radiating off him brings my eyes up to meet the reflection of his green eyes in the window.
“I apologise, Isabel, I have already put ice in without asking you first.”
Turning, I take the glass he’s offered.   As I do, our fingers brush against one another sending a surge of electricity up my arm and down to in between my thighs which starts to pulsate in reaction to the touch.
Trying to control what’s happening I take the proffered glass.
“No that’s fine. Thank you.”
Clinking glasses we both take our first swig of the amber liquid. The whisky burns slightly as I swallow, but I don’t notice it too much as it is the intense look in his eyes that seems to be burning me the most.
Breaking the hold he has on me, I look to the crystal tumbler in my hand.
“Delicious. I’ve not tried this one before. I’m afraid I’m not usually a single malt person, but I may have to buy myself some.”
 Marc throws me a smile that reaches his eyes.
“I've converted you have I? I wonder what else I can convert you to.”
Those words hold a thousand meanings.
Taking the glass from my hand, Marc puts them on the low wooden table.
Turning back to me, he gently shifts the hair that is settled against my cheek. The same electrical charge I felt earlier is conducted through my body. Fisting the hair at the nape of my neck, he brings his mouth down to mine. All I can do is to hold tight on his upper arms, afraid my legs might buckle. The taste of the whisky transferring from his tongue as he finds mine makes it all the sweeter.
The kiss intensifies as he pulls me closer. Having the need to come up for air, he releases my mouth, but not before biting on my lower lip.
I watch on as he removes his blue suit jacket and tie. I am caught up, mesmerized by this man. It is as though I have been drugged by his touch, by his kiss.
Never taking his eyes off of me, in a low dulcet tone he asks;
“Isabel, what do you want? What do you need?”
Only one answer comes to mind.
The smoothness in which he delivered his question was suddenly gone. Roughly he takes my mouth again, this time both of our tongues in search of what we want. While I have both of my hands flat against the taught contours of his chest, Marc brings one hand up in to my hair as the other desperately reaches for the hem of my dress.
Once he holds it, he uses both of his hands to pull the dress up over my head. He looks down at me, studying hungrily. All of the insecurities I had earlier vanish as he gazes at my ample breast, the nipples of which were audaciously teasing him.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathes.
I can feel the sting of a tear at the corner of my eye. No man has ever said that about me. Fighting to control my emotions, I shift the power of what he is doing over to me.
Without fear I remove Marc’s clothing, revealing broad shoulders, a smattering of chest hair and a well-defined stomach. I inhale at the sight and smell of this man.  All he’s left standing in is black boxer briefs. My hand reaches for him, when he suddenly stops me.
“My turn again.”
Marc presses delicate kisses down one side of my neck and shoulders.
Taking off my bra and lace topped knickers, he discards them on to the floor. Once completely naked, Marc takes a hold of my breasts, rolling one nipple between his thumb and forefinger, whilst taking the other nipple into his mouth. His touch is exquisite. Already wet from the foreplay, I let out a moan as my hands take in his hair.  Closing my eyes intensifies the sensation.
I want this man. Somehow Marc knows exactly what I am thinking. Pushing me back to one of the sofas, I stumble back on to it. Grabbing my thighs he pulls me towards him so that now I am virtually laying on it, I'm open and ready for him.
I curse at the first touch of his tongue on my clit. Playing, teasing it. Pushing one, then two fingers into me, I arch my back.
My first orgasm is beginning to build. I’m so close and this is how I want it to be. Marc sets a rhythm with his fingers, tightening around them he rubs my clit with his thumb. That is the undoing of me.
Still breathing hard, Marc closes his mouth over mine. I can no longer taste whisky, but my own sweet juices.
Wanting to touch him, I reach down, finding him hard and rigid, fighting against the material of his briefs. Releasing him, I’m able to wrap my fingers around his shaft. I feel it pulsating against my palm and twitch when my thumb stokes the head of him. With a steady cadence of my hand, Marc curses and moans.
It’s too much for either of us, Marc wants release and I want to feel him inside me.
Taking my right hand, he holds it above me on the sofa. Still wet from my orgasm, he can easily slide into me. Hooking my legs over his shoulders means he can thrust deeper into me. It’s only at that point I realise I still have my heels on. No matter, my body and mind is with this man in this moment.
The velocity in which Marc moves means we are both close to our impending orgasms. Feeling me tighten around him has the desired effect.
“Come with me Isabel”
The sexual cry from both of us signals our climax. Coming hard, I feel the seed Marc has spilled.
Collapsing on top of me, spent and exhausted, he finally let goes of my hand. My legs ache as I drop them to his sides. Beads of sweat mingle as one on our bodies.
After what seems like an eternity, Marc finally lifts his head and places a tender kiss on my breasts. I shiver from both the touch and the cold that is now descending. Sliding out of me, Marc stands holding out a hand for me to take. No more words are exchanged until I’m enveloped in his arms and the cover of his bed.
Kissing my forehead, Marc whispers for the second time, as sleep takes over:
“You’re beautiful.”

©AJ Walters.

Via Twitter:

. From @StellaKnightley:- (Author of 'Girl Behind the Mask' and 'Girl Behind the Fan'.)

J_Walters74Just read your story. Loved it! So much fun. Great set-up. Made me wonder what the author gets up to in real life! ;-)'

'@AJ_Walters74- I really enjoyed it. You've got a lovely writing voice and you should definitely do some more! X'

. From @Book_ishOne:- (Book reviewer)

'@AJWalters74 Liked it? I loved it! I thought it was engaging, exciting and well written. Great job on part 1'