New Year, New Beginnings || bloodaddictedking
Granted, kissing a strange man on New Year's was not a wise idea, nor was the fact that their setting had been a densely populated, public event where her husband's colleagues, had they not all been sloshed by the stroke of midnight, might have reported on her indiscretion, but she did not regret it. The memory of him b u r n s in her veins, his dark eyes grooming over her form in such a way that it produced chills over her form, his touch that chased away the thrilling ice with a flame that scorched straight down to the lonely pulse between her thighs that had gone barren of attention for far too long, and lastly, the gravelly, liquid cool coo of his Scottish lilt that had her enticed from the moment he'd introduced himself.
It had been nearly two weeks since the encounter, and to her credit she'd been trying her damnest to stay away despite scribbling his number on the back of one of her husband's business cards where she'd procured it from his clientele dossier and kept it tucked away in her wallet. But the days were waxing and waning, her husband busier than ever, ignoring her needs and replacing his attention with a piece of plastic she didn't even bother swiping anymore, and so she found herself with a growing urge to contact him. Just for lunch. She told herself. She could use some company for a lunch at the Hampton's.
Lounging on the plush, leather chaise in her living room she flipped the card repeatedly through the fingers of one hand while the other gripped tight to her cell phone, swiping to unlock the screen every time it returned to sleep mode. Giving in finally, her tongue runs along her lower lip and she types the number into the keypad and hits send before pressing it to her ear to listen to it ring.
