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"Come on," he said, pushing her off of his lap and standing with her. He kissed her on the forehead -- a gesture that was all too familiar for her.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"For what?" he asked.
"You want me to leave," she replied sadly. He had to laugh.
"No," he said, kissing her on the lips this time. "I need to do this right if this is what I'm going to do."
He took her hand and led her up a back staircase into his bedroom. It was smaller than she would have imagined it being. The bed was large, but it was no larger than the size of her bedroom back at her family's estate.
She stood at the foot of the bed, silently critiquing the work of art that hung over the head of the bed. James approached her from behind and expertly eased the straps of Rose's dress from her shoulders. The dress dropped to the floor and pooled around her feet. Her mind raced. She had planned a night of kissing and now she stood totally exposed with her back to a man twice her age. His strong hands snaked around her waist; his right hand made a path along her stomach to her breasts, his left hand plunged towards her feet, the tips of his fingers just barely underneath the hem of her underwear.
"James," she choked. His hands stilled, daring not to go any further. She turned in his arms to face him and planted a kiss softly against the cleft in his chin. He searched her face for clues as to what she would say next. Her head dropped slowly, her gaze turning towards her toes and the pool of sparkles and pink that lay on the floor.
"I'm not ready," she whispered. "I'm sorry."
- COMMENTS
catman71over 14 years agointeresting start thought it was going to be a wham bam story and instead its the start of a greta one keep in going
