Page 75 of Mistaken Impression

Damn… I’m too late.

I just hope she still comes over later and doesn’t think I meant it when I said I wasn’t in the mood, and I’d see her tomorrow… because not only do I not have her number, but I’ve got no idea where she lives, either.

I get off the bus, feeling a little dejected and wishing I’d been stronger…

As I start the short walk back to my apartment, I wonder what I’ll do if Ella doesn’t come over. I can’t contact her, so I guess I’ll just sit at home by myself, worrying… until tomorrow. God, what an awful thought. It’s not one worth contemplating,and as I turn into my street, I realise I could be over-reacting. She could be at home, packing a bag, still feeling a little confused, but willing to come over for an explanation, if nothing else.

I stop in my tracks.

If that’s the case, I need to get us something to eat. We ordered in over the weekend, both of us too busy enjoying each other to bother with cooking, but I’d like for us to cook together tonight. The problem is, other than bread, milk and a few other essentials, my fridge is almost bare, and my cupboards aren’t a great deal better. There’s certainly nothing at my place Ella would be willing to eat, let alone cook.

I turn around, going back onto the main road, and picking up my pace. I daren’t risk getting home too late. After what’s just happened, I can’t think of anything worse than Ella arriving at my place to find I’m not there.

There’s a small supermarket – or grocery store, as Ella would call it – down here on the left, and I quickly decide the easiest thing is going to be for me to buy the ingredients we were using today, so we can recreate one of the dishes she showed me earlier. It’s not very original, but I don’t have the time or the ability for anything radical.

I grab what I need, hoping I got it right, and rush through the check-out before dashing home. There’s no sign of Ella, or her car, and I let myself in, hook up my jacket and unpack the groceries, before quickly running upstairs to change out of my overly tight t-shirt and into a white one of my own, just as the doorbell rings.

I hurry back down and open the door to find Ella standing there, a holdall in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other.

“Here… let me.”

I take the groceries and then her hand, pulling her into my apartment, and kicking the door shut, before I grab her holdalland put it down on the floor, bending to place the groceries alongside it.

As I stand, she looks up at me, and I reach out. She backs away, though, looking up into my eyes.

“What did you mean when you said you weren’t in the mood? And why didn’t you want to ride down in the elevator with me?” she says, sounding so hurt my chest contracts, my breath catching in my throat.

“I did. And I would have done… but I’m not strong enough.”

She takes a half step back, frowning. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about not being in the mood for standing next to you and not touching you… not claiming you. I’m talking about being in a confined space, like an elevator, and not taking you in my arms and kissing you, or in some way giving away the fact that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s about knowing my limitations, Ella. I’m…”

“Stop talking.” Her voice is little more than a whisper, but I do as I’m told, and she stutters out a breath. “Now, kiss me. Please, Mac… just ki—”

I grab her and pull her hard against me, capturing her lips with mine, cutting off her words as I devour her, turning us both and walking her backwards until she hits the wall. We break the kiss, only to pull off each other’s tops, and I undo her bra, releasing her breasts into my waiting hands. She unfastens my jeans and I do the same with hers, both of us kicking them off, along with our shoes.

“Condom,” she murmurs into my mouth.

“Wallet.” I pull off my boxers, finding my wallet in my jeans pocket, and pulling out a condom, while Ella removes her knickers, throwing them to one side, her eyes on fire as I roll the condom over my cock. She looks up at me, unsure what to donext, so I lift her, hooking her legs over my bent arms, and lower her onto my erection.

“Oh… God.” She grinds out the words, her eyes closing as she adjusts to the penetration, and she leans back against the wall. I hold on to her, and with my hands on her backside, I pull almost all the way out, and then ram home. She screams in delight, opening her eyes again and letting them lock with mine as I take her, harder and harder. I feel her body shudder and convulse, and I know she’s losing control, coming hard, her loud scream of, “Yes, Mac… Yes…” filling the apartment.

That was quicker than I’d expected, but I want more… much more, and as she falls on to me, struggling for breath, I take her weight, turning, and carrying her into the living area, where I lay her down along the couch, kneeling up and giving her just a moment before I take her ankles, parting her legs wide, and start to move again.

“Touch yourself.”

“You think I can come again? After that?”

“I know you can… now, touch yourself.”

She moves her hand down, letting her fingers play across her exposed clit, and I watch, bewitched. I part her legs a little wider and she gasps, her nipples hardening, her legs tensing. She’s close again already, and I hammer into her.

“I’m coming, Ella…” I give her fair warning, but she doesn’t need it, and as I let go deep inside her, she tips over into a wild orgasm.

As she calms, her body still twitching, I lean over, sucking air into my lungs, and kiss her.

“I’m sorry.”

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