Page 42 of Hit For Six
‘I hope you’re ready, gorgeous. I intend to do some very bad things to you when I get you all to myself,’ he whispered in her ear as they quickened their steps.
See, they were on the same page. No more caring about what others thought. Monty was right. Lola gave their opinions way too much consideration.
‘I guess that will make up for the lack of dessert,’ she quipped, before coquettishly squeezing his thoroughly juicy arse.
Lola turned to check his dreamy assets out for real now that she’d given herself carte blanche. She was one lucky lady. Monty might not have gotten his training in lately but he was the fittest guy she’d stepped out with. The last thing she expected to see in her periphery was Helena and Frederick rooted to the spot. They hadn’t yet moved from where their paths had crossed. And from what little Lola had been able to take in of their expressions, they were cast in stony dismay beneath that street lamp. Well, fuck it. Yes, it was all things inappropriate to grope their son in public, but she’d been quick, there was nobody else in the vicinity, and they were supposed to be walking in the opposite direction to the car park. Minding their own business and letting Monty get on with his.
‘Nearly as peachy as yours.’ Monty somehow scooped a shrieking Lola up in his arms, despite the weight of his bag, carrying her in an over the threshold position, as if they’dreached his elusive abode already. Helena and Frederick were still gawking, hoping against hope to crack the unfathomable mystery. Lola pretended she couldn’t see them. ‘Breaking news: I might just have a tub of Häagen-Dazs in the freezer…’
***
‘Ta dah!’ Montyannounced ten minutes later. ‘Home sweet home.’
Lola was on her feet now. She covered her open mouth as he outstretched his arm to present The Royal Crescent.
‘Oh, my God! Why didn’t you say? So much for loathing Monopoly. Monty, you live in one of the Bath edition’s properties!’
Lola could count the number of times she’d ventured into these parts on one hand. It was too much for a working class girl like her. She’d always felt uncomfortable and out of place here, hence only accompanying friends who visited from afar as if she was a snap happy tourist herself.
‘Trust me. It looks more impressive than it is.’
‘Oh, no. I’m not buying that!’
‘I’m in the cheap seats, I promise. We’re over there.’
He gestured to one of the doors sandwiched towards the middle part of the curve of the iconic Bath architecture and pulled Lola along. She felt as if she was in a period drama. But she wouldn’t spoil this experience with the unworthy thoughts that Orlando had tried to plant in her head. His home had felt other-wordly and overwhelming too, but the difference was, Monty lived independently from his parents, he was his own person. And he’d passed a shit load of Lola’s tests thus far without even knowing it.
‘Shh! Elderly but very sweet neighbour.’
He put a finger to his lips once they got inside, his consideration only making Lola’s heart bloom further, as he pointed at the downstairs apartment’s front door. Ah, so he was at the top. The view from his place must be cracking.
They tiptoed up the creaky stairs and Lola’s heart raced when Monty unlocked the entrance to his flat and flicked on some atmospheric lighting so she could take in the idyllic surroundings. Her lover finally dumped his bulky bag and Lola cast her eyes over a stylish living-room, its main feature a sumptuous toffee-coloured sofa with cream scatter cushions in a variety of sizes. Monty got bonus points for those! There was a flat screen television directly opposite it, as there would be in most man caves– although this man had a green light to watch more sport than most– but Monty’s was a regular size and not at all showy-offy.
Next came the antique ‘hand-me-downs’ that he’d hinted at. Some of these were slightly more ostentatious and looked as if they’d come straight out of Versailles. A Baroque-style throne of a chair was tucked into the corner, as if Monty was too humble to sit on it, and an olde-worlde dresser supported a glut of vintage cricket books and accessories, which were displayed adroitly. Then came another juxtaposition, the walls were festooned with modern T20 prints, as well as various photos of somebody Lola was getting to know rather intimately, in sporting action. Monty drew the curtains, and Lola’s pulse hammered as he walked back to her with an alluring gait, as if the beat of her heart was drawing him closer and closer; a tune that just the two of them could hear.
‘Now, where were we?’ his sexy voice enquired and the sacred space between Lola’s thighs began to throb.
Monty’s eyelids grew hooded as he closed the distance between them and claimed her mouth. This time their kissing was fiery from the get-go. There was nobody and nothing to stopthem and there was so much catching up to do. All those wasted days and weeks when they could have had this on tap. If only Lola hadn’t been so stubborn. Then again, the build-up to these fireworks was worth the wait. She had never felt so turned on or so bold about what she wanted.
Monty pressed a muscular knee between her damp thighs, completely in tune with her desire, and Lola thought she might climax already as he lifted her hips with his firm hands to increase the pressure, pinning her against the wall. She was all too willing. Their kissing became breathless now as they continued to ravish one another, until she could take it no more, desperate to touch his skin. She slid her fingers up the sides of his cricket shirt, relishing in the feel of his taut abdomen and the lingering hint of a moreish shower gel, mixing with his eau de manliness.
‘I’ve never had a woman take my actual kit off me.’ He broke off to inform her, his eyes twinkling. ‘I must admit… it’s a bit of a fantasy of mine.’
Lola cocked a brow as they got lost in one another’s eyes, dazed, heads spinning. Anyone else and she wouldn’t believe them but there really was a purity to Monty. He said it as it was.
‘I think I’m happy to oblige,’ she said as he plunged his lips on her neck and began kissing his way down to her cleavage.
‘Are we going garment for garment here?’ his words vibrated into her chest.
Now Monty’s fingers inched down to Lola’s arse, twanging suggestively at her knicker elastic. She arched her back and plunged her fingers into his hair. It was the sexiest of dilemmas; needing him to keep going but knowing how much more pleasure they could extract from a game.
‘I’ve never stripped a hunky sports star. Let me have my cinnamon roll and eat it, Monty! You can undress me next time.Besides, you kind of already have with your eyes… along with who knows how many other thousands of people.’
She sighed. Why did she have to remind herself?
‘Sounds like a deal to me… and I can assure you it will be a very private affair on both occasions.’
Then the kissing reached Scoville levels until Lola broke away with a throaty ‘ahem!’
