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ARE YOU FLIRTING WITH ME?
“Are you flirting with me, Abby?” There was a self-satisfied gleam in his big blue eyes, toying with me like he knew he could. He brought his champagne flute up to his lips and took a deep swallow of the Dom Perignon, his gaze never leaving mine.
I half-smiled, sat back against the maroon velvet settee and deliberately uncrossed and re-crossed my legs. He let his stare falter briefly without moving his head, to appreciate the view as I let the skirt of my dress scoot up a little higher along my thigh. I demurely tipped the last of my second glass of bubbly into my mouth and swallowed slowly. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Mr. Hiddleston.”
He sat forward, legs spread wide with an elbow on either knee, swirling the last dregs of the champagne in his glass. “Is that how we’re playing it?”
Feigning innocence as best I could manage, I gestured with open palms before me and a slight shrug. “I’m under strict guidance to mingle, charm and circulate.” Bouncing my leg with nervous energy, I dangled my black high-heeled pump off my toes, swinging it back and forth. “I have no time for flirting with the likes of you,” I informed him with false bravado and an affectionate wink.
A handsome male server approached with a tray of fresh flutes and offered an exchange of full glasses for our empties. Tom straightened his back to accept the new offering before resuming his previous position. I smiled for the server and bid him, “Thank you very much.”
As soon as the waiter was out of earshot, Tom warned with a smirk, “Not him, Abby. I believe Luke meant for you to mingle, charm and circulate amongst the casting people.” Indeed, I told Luke that I would chat up producers and try to ignore Tom for the duration, but he was far more fun than business types.
The evening was running longer than I anticipated, and I had already been felt up by more than Tom. I hated schmoozing, the worst part of my chosen profession. Affronted, I objected softly, “Just being polite.” I took sip from my refreshed flute, ensuring he could see me flick my tongue over the rim. “Some appreciate my manners.”
Forcing the rest of the room to the background, Tom laughed and intimated, “I certainly do, Abigail.”
Something deep inside began to tingle with the insinuation. Instead of indulging in the hidden promise within his words, I ordered my concentration on the event at hand. Luke scheduled my appearance here since my employment with the BBC ended with disaster instead of a salute and thank you for your service. I was also encouraged to be casual and aloof, available and irresistible all at once. Four hours in, and I’d lost interest in it.
Shifting a bit in my seat to give Tom another show, I looked around the room to review potential job prospects, any producers or casting directors I should parade myself before. “How many have you had?” my lover asked, indicating the alcohol in my hand.
I wiggled my eyebrows, “Not nearly enough.” The room took a quick spin to spite me, but I managed to stay sitting up.
“Can you stand on your own?”
No. “Yes, that’s how I know I haven’t had enough yet.”
He was smiling again, fascinated by the view of my legs. “May I get you another?”
“I’d love another glass of champagne and a waiter to bring it to me,” I trialed teasingly. We had only been together as a couple in love for a fortnight and still finding our boundaries.
Tom’s eyes narrowed a fraction and his smile disappeared in an instant. “Don’t test me, Abby. You’re coming home with me,” he said possessively.
I uncrossed my legs and sat forward, leaning into the space that separated him from me. The settee nearly dumped me on the floor with the spinning. I murmured over my flute, “That hasn’t been determined yet. According to Luke’s firm instruction, I’m not to spend the entire night with you. We aren’t here together.”
“But we are together, regardless of my publicist says, public or not.”
The floor threatened to turn everything upside down. I got up carefully and sat down heavily again beside him. As close as possible to his face, I whispered, “Ask me nicely, Thomas.”
His blue crystalline eyes focused on my painted lips, the longing to kiss me obvious as he leaned into me. “I’ll make it worth your while, my love. Your knickers are in my pocket, can’t leave without those.” He patted his right hand pocket of his blue suit trousers, conspiratorially.
Moistening my lips with my tongue, he mirrored my action. “Who said I needed those to go home?” My man growled and tried to close the small distance between us to kiss me. I stood up to my full height plus an extra two inches on my heels, and stumbled with the effects of the alcohol running through me. I tsked him and returned to my place upon the settee. “No, no… Luke would be angry. You, sir, must appear England’s most eligible bachelor.”
His expression softened, and he muttered sweetly, “You have my heart, Abby.” Despite the teasing atmosphere we had going, my insides melted at his words. I sighed happily and adopted a far-off dreamy look and lazy grin. Tom saw my response and laughed, “You’re drunk.”
“I’m not. Tipsy, not drunk.”
“How do you know the difference?”
“There are only two of you. When I’m drunk, there are four of you.” I stuck my tongue out at him.
Tom stood up and offered his hand to assist me in standing up and stay upright. I started to get up on my own, but quickly took his hand when I began to topple over. He curled his arm around my waist to keep me standing on my own two feet. “Let me take you home.” He poured a sexy promise into my ear. “I’ll sober you up.” Sensual heat waved over me with the power of his suggestion.
The party thinned out considerably since I last noticed, but I circulated my resume, name and headshot early on. I couldn’t do any more than I had, especially in my current condition: tipsy and aroused. Tom made his excuses to a few people on our way out the door, claiming that he would load me into a taxi when in actuality, Luke arranged a hired car to return us to Tom’s flat.
We slid into the backseat together, my lover keeping very close to me. I was tucked up under Tom’s arm as the driver navigated us through London traffic in a blue Prius. Tom nuzzled my ear, keeping me awake and very aware of him. His steamy breath licked across the shell, shooting stripes of eroticism from my ear straight to my core. He hitched his voice low to ensure that the driver couldn’t hear.
“Abby, my love, you looked delectable, mouth-watering… do you have any idea how much I want you right now?”
I placed my hand on his knee and snuggled closer. “No, tell me.”
Subtly, the hand on my shoulder moved down to touch my breast. “Knowing how naked you are beneath that dress stole my breath away.”
I giggled in my somewhat inebriated state. “I’m always naked beneath my clothes.”
That hand squeezed my flesh through the gossamer material, drawing my attention back to the circle of us. He took a hearty nibble on the fleshy bit of my ear to draw my focus back to the here and now. “Let me seduce you, silly woman.” He planted his lips along the column of my throat, and pulled a tiny gasp from me at the warm feeling. I hiked my legs up over his to turn into his embrace.
I moved the hand between us to where he needed me, and I was rewarded with a shift of his pelvis into my palm. His breath caught in his throat and he bit on the sensitive skin at my shoulder. “So I’m naked beneath my clothes. What would you do?”
“Abby… oh, my Abby…” My hand moved, caressed along his length, up down, up down, up down. His manhood stiffened, elongated and responded to my touch. His warm hand began at trail from mid calf and inched up gently, slowly. “Do you feel what you do to me? You were so sexy tonight; all I could think about was getting you alone.”
“That’s because you nicked my knickers. You distracted yourself.”
He chuckled in that deep way that made me shiver with intense desire. “Abby, how do you do that? Your hand is playing with my cock, driving me mad to get inside you and you’re playing coy. Are you flirting with me?”
I snuck a glance to the driver to be sure he was concentrating on the traffic and not the tangle of limbs that Tom and I made. Grasping his hand at my knee, I led him all the way up my skirt to my moist sex. “Possibly. Does this feel like flirting?” His fingers slipped along my folds. “Make me cum, Tom.”
His chest rumbled with a frustrated growl, in the presence of another human being. “You are drunk. Can you be quiet?” He flicked his thumb across my nub, robbing a pant from my lungs with the surprise. My hand compressed against his crotch as reward. “I’ll make my fingers disappear within you and find that one spot that makes you sob with pleasure.”
Delicately to not draw attention from the man in the front seat, I jerked against Tom’s hand desperate for the contact he promised. I whispered urgently, “I don’t think I can, but I don’t think I can wait either. Don’t stop.”
Lazily his thumb brushed and circled along my clit, keeping me on a plateau of arousal. “You’re so wet, baby. All for me?” Two of his fingers thrust up into me, pushing a little squeak from deep within me.
“Only. For. You. Tom.” I gasped in between each word as he continued to play with that sweet spot and pump his fingers in small movements. Heat pooled there and I ached for more, friction, pressure, him – all of it.
Circle. “I love pleasing you.” Thrust. “The sounds you make.” Press. “The flush of lust.” Brush. “The expression of bliss.” Flick. “Fuck, Abby… I need you. You drive me absolutely mad.” I couldn’t breathe with all he was doing, my focus completely on his voice and his hand. To keep from voicing my delight, I pulled him into me for deep kiss, my tongue pushed deep into the hollow of his mouth. The ferocity of our kiss was fueled by the tension of being unable to vocalize everything and to keep our meeting as small as possible, avoiding the attention in the compact proximity.
I pulled away with the need to breathe and kept my forehead against his. I rasped out between breathes, “I’m… cumming… going to… cumming… oh, oh, oh…” I stuttered and jerked into my climax as Tom held me to him in attempt to shield and mask my crisis from the driver. I breathed into his neck trying to come back from heaven as he held me in his arms, my heart pounding against my ribs. Relief washed over me and release thrummed through my heat.
Thoroughly sober and almost sated, I found my lover’s ear. “I’m going to ride you so hard.” I reached for his cock again and pressed deliciously against him. Involuntarily, his length jerked twice with his heightened stimulation.
Mercifully the car pulled up and parked in front of Tom’s flat and we stumbled inside, hoping the chauffer wasn’t any wiser. As we rushed through the foyer, I kicked my shoes off in the middle of the hallway. I shrugged out of my dress, the material lie in the doorway of his bedroom in a forgotten heap. Tom shed his trousers and suit jacket, chucking them unceremoniously to the side to get to me again. He pulled me against him roughly, his mouth seeking mine amongst the fury of limbs. His kiss was frantic, hungry and passionate with intense need.
As he mouth drank from me, his tongue massaging, searching for dominance. My fingers nimbly pushed the buttons through the loops of his stiff cotton shirt. When we were both free of clothing, I pushed him down onto the mattress and crawled over him like a cat. I licked up the center of his chest along the way, leaving him panting. “Abby… fuck… no teasing… no more flirting… I need you too much.” I grasped his straining cock and pumped my fist over him twice. He groaned and jerked violently.
Moving my center over him letting him feel how wet I still was, I asked teasingly, “How much do you need me?”
His hips surged off the mattress, hunting for his place within me, his haven. I rubbed my sex over his, lubricating his body with mine, but denying him until he answered. “Abby,” he moaned helplessly. “Abby, baby, I ache for you.”
With a loud mutual gutteral sigh, I sunk myself onto him, sheathing his length in my channel. Grounding myself, I placed my hands over his pectorals, to give me something to hold onto. Tom clung to my hips, guiding me as I lifted and lowered myself on him. Our pace was fast and fierce, our skin slapping together with our joining. He bit his lower lip and the muscles in his neck strained with the coil of burning hunger. His eyes were hooded with lust and desire.
No longer able to handle my being on top, he flipped us and drove into me hard. I screamed as I came apart and undone beneath him, my body trembling with the shock of it. Tom pounded into me with a few more strokes, feeling his release fast approaching. He collapsed over me suddenly with my name on his lips, his body quaking with orgasm. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, holding him with all my might. We didn’t move for a long time, our breaths returning to normal and our heartbeats regulating. I drew lazy circles and curly-cues over his damp back with my fingertips.
Finally he asked, “Abby, am I crushing you, love?”
“I don’t mind.”
He propped himself up on his elbows to look at me. Brushing his lips over mine sweetly, our eyes never leaving one another, he said, “I know you were flirting with me tonight.”
I shrugged playfully, “I got what I wanted.”
“To drive me crazy tonight?”
I shook my head, my mouth turning down at the corners. “A definite perk, but having you is much better.”
“I love you, Abigail.”
“I love you more.”