Page 40 of What's the time, Mr. Wolfe
“Yes, you’re trying to make ends meet. We’ve all been there, but there is nothingpoorabout you. You are courageous, talented, good looking, great at sex, I’ll say it for you, and I don’t want all the Amelia’s of the world.”
He hadn’t said he wanted me, though, I realised.
“I’m good at sex?” I asked, raising one eyebrow.
“I fought so fucking hard not to come within minutes of being inside you. No one has made me feel like that before.”
I looked up and down the street. “Shush, for fuck’s sake,” I said in an angry whisper.
He laughed. “I’ll ask again. Do you need help?”
“You’ve stood there fucking watching me, Sebastian. It’s done now.”
“What are you actually doing?”
“I wanted to get the upstairs bedroom ready for redecorating. Remember that part? It hasn’t happened.”
“You need to get on your landlord.”
“Getonorget on to?”
He winked. “I’ll have someone here in the week. Can I come in? It’s cold out here.”
I sighed; I knew I should have sent him on his way. I smiled and led the way back into the kitchen.
“This is cold,” I said, pouring the coffee down the sink. “I’ll make a fresh one.”
“You need a coffee machine,” he replied.
“No, I don’t. I have a kettle, that’s good enough for me.”
I made two coffees and placed the black on in front of him. He looked at it as if I’d just served up dog shit in a mug. He sniffed it and then took a sip.
“Good enough for you, is it?” I asked sarcastically.
“No, not really. But it’s hot and wet.” He stared at me; his eyes narrowed as he focussed in.
“Don’t do that,” I said, sipping my coffee and waving my arm.
“Do what, Ruby?”
“Or that.”
“Give me a clue here,” he asked.
“Don’t narrow your eyes, or get all throaty, seductive,” I said, stumbling over my words.
“Why?”
“Because I’m not in the mood. This is wrong. I’m too young, remember?”
He slowly shook his head. “And you decided you weren’t. You also asked to return to the club because you’re curious, remember that?”
I screwed my eyes shut. I had, hadn’t I? “Well...” I had no reply, really.
“I have your clothes, and I want to take you out to dinner tonight. I promise that I’ll return you back here. There is a great restaurant that has opened, and if it makes you feel any better, I’ve been invited but I have no one to go with. I don’t like to dine on my own.”
“Oh, so I’m the fill-in, am I?” I asked, knowing that wasn’t what he meant at all.
