It’s simply hot sexual chemistry. A spark and a flame that he wants to put out before we see how hot it can burn.
“I need to go make some phone calls before it gets too late. Make yourself comfortable. Dinner should be arriving shortly. And feel free to call the driver if you want to go out.”
And then he strides out the kitchen where he just gave me the best orgasm of my life. When he gets to the bottom of the open staircase leading upstairs, he stops, twists his head in my direction, and stares at me.
For a fleeting moment, I think he’s reconsidered and is going to come back. Or ask me to come upstairs to bed with him.
“We should leave here at 7:00 a.m. tomorrow. Sleep well.”
He takes the stairs in fast leaps, two by two. Probably to get away from me as fast as possible.
Leaving me to wonder what the hell I did to screw this up.