Hot and filled with butterflies, she tossed the bra aside and then slipped her thumbs beneath the fabric at her hips. Once she was naked, he could have her any way he wanted, any time he wanted.
Never one to refuse him, she was surprised not to feel any ounce of embarrassment or self-consciousness when she eased her panties down her legs. Score wanted her. He’d told her that he did. Shyla had to show him trust, had to show him that she was all his, every single part of her.
Naked. She stood there before him. He took a step backwards to widen his view of her body. He liked to look. Liked to take his time absorbing her features, enjoying her.
“Kneel,” he said.
Without wasting a second, she sank to her knees. Honesty was her greatest ally. Although Shyla was concerned about missing something basic through inexperience, she didn’t have to dwell on the possibility. Score knew the truth and wouldn’t expect her to have any special expertise. Besides, she had a feeling he would enjoy talking her through every detail.
As much as she didn’t want to tear her gaze from his, she had to do it to remove his boots. Putting them aside, Shyla rose higher on her knees. Everything about him seemed zeroed in on her. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t watching him as her trembling fingers slid onto his belt. The tension in her shoulders was all anticipation. They were there, alone, and about to leap the final hurdle.
Unbuckling his belt took a little longer than usual. Her fingertips were cool, but the rest of her scorched. In more ways than one.
She reached for the top button of his jeans but never made contact because Score took one clear step back. Wondering why he’d retreated, she questioned him with her gaze. As usual, his gave nothing away.
“Go pour two scotches.”
Go? The last thing Shyla wanted was distance between them. “You don’t want to…”
“Be patient, my love.”
Though still uncertain about his intentions and how long they would delay, the last word spurred her into action. He’d never used that word in relation to her before. It jangled around in her mind bouncing off the inside of her skull until it settled itself deep in her brain.
He offered a hand to help her to her feet. Still speculating as to what would come next, she doubted the alcohol was meant for Dutch courage. He was experienced and didn’t need any sort of liquid motivation. Perhaps he was thinking she’d enjoy having an excuse to loosen up. They couldn’t drink too much. Score wouldn’t want her to be inebriated before they got anywhere near his bed.
At the bar, she did as instructed. Retrieving glasses, she filled each with a generous measure and pondered whether technically, it was “their” room as all of her possessions were in there.
Before she’d turned all the way around, Shyla noticed he wasn’t where she’d left him. He’d gone to sit next to the chess board as a matter of fact. Taking the scotch across to where he sat, she handed over a glass.
Score enjoyed a sip and then pointed a forefinger to the opposite side of the table. “Sit.”
Shyla didn’t want to sit, but it would be petulant of her to stamp her feet or whine at him. Not only was he more experienced than her, his mind was clearer, his thoughts more linear. On the first night they’d played chess, she’d promised to follow his command. That meant following it all the time, not just when it suited her.
Lowering to the floor, she put the other glass next to the chess board and examined the pieces. If she showed him her sullen look, he’d know that she wasn’t happy about the delay.
Distracting her from her thoughts, he nodded at the glass she’d put aside. “Drink,” he said.
Score was there and he’d told her she could enjoy alcohol without fear while he was present. So that was what she did. Picking up the glass, she poured all of the liquid into her mouth and swallowed hard. The burn in her throat tried to make her cough. Suppressing it, she put the glass on the table, and moved her pawn.
“Still impatient?”
That was one way to put it. Shyla exhaled all of her breath, clearing herself out before starting again. “No. I’m sorry, you’re right.”
In all her focusing on what was to come, she’d neglected to appreciate the moment. They would only do this for the first time once. Rushing into it while she had the courage wasn’t necessarily the best route. Score wanted to take his time. She’d learned he knew how to turn her on with the simplest of gestures. There was nothing to worry about. They had time. The whole night. Savoring her moments with him was better than hurrying through them.
They played a few moves. Shyla hadn’t expected them to sit in silence. Her anticipation was still live and she wanted to connect with him. If that couldn’t happen physically, then mentally or emotionally was the next best thing.
“Everything okay at the club?”
“I’m not interested in shooting the shit,” he said, pondering his move before taking it. “It’s impossible for you to sit in silence.”
She shrugged when he cast a semi-smile her way. “You could say that.”
“Why?”
There was a question. Like many of her neuroses, Shyla didn’t know the root cause of them. “I suppose when my mind is mixing things up and driving me crazy, I find it’s useful to just open my mouth and fill the air.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Are you testing me?” she asked, allowing a laugh to fall from her lips. “I’d fail miserably against you in a competition of who could be the most brooding.”
“You don’t have to measure yourself against anyone.”
Seemed
