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Katie pretended to be fascinated with the French toast on her plate. The man’s gaze was relentless, and she was beginning to feel a little harassed by it. Gathering all her energy, she lifted her eyes and glowered right back at him. Bad move! Time stopped and Katie forgot to breathe. His eyes were hypnotic, and they held her captive for the longest time before he smirked lopsidedly. Katie broke out of the haze of bewilderment and arousal, and panted as her fork clattered noisily to the floor. She squirmed in her booth. Although a woman accompanied him, there was something about the man that made her want to cry out in aggravated longing.
He looked thoroughly spent, yet his personality was a bright, magnanimous being in the small cafe. Katie’s friend Brianna seemed unaffected by the man’s allure. Although to Katie, it seemed as if his heart-stopping virility blanketed the whole place.
“We should go,” Katie murmured to Brianna, too panicked to peek at the man again.
“You haven’t finished your breakfast. I thought you were famished?”
Katie swallowed past the lump lodged in her throat; it was immovable. There was no way in hell she could force a bite of French toast past that lump! Involuntarily, she glanced up as the couple moved in her peripheral vision. The woman, tall and curvaceous with cropped blonde hair, stood up. She smiled timidly at the man, almost bowing, and Katie grimaced at the very obvious devotion pouring out of her form.
“Thank you, Sir.” Her whisper was soft.
Katie’s eyes widened. What’s going on here?
The man nodded as if he was bestowing a royal favor upon her, and she walked toward the exit. Katie completely forgot about the man, and the fact that his eyes were boring holes into her profile. She gawked at the striking blonde, mystified by her dainty walk and flawless beauty. It was 6 a.m. on a Saturday morning and her hair was a mess, which led Katie to deduce that they had shared a bed. She looked thoroughly fucked and disheveled, and that managed to add to Katie’s curiosity – and shockingly – arousal.
Sir? What was he? Her boss or something? The reverence…God! It had been so…tangible. Her pussy tightened and Katie was caught by surprise by the erotic feeling.
Tap tap tap.
She lurched upright as long, masculine, tanned fingers tapped at the tabletop right in front of her. She didn’t have to look up to decipher whose hand it was. His nails were short and neat, his fingers thick and long. They reminded her of what Brianna had told her once: the connection between a man’s hands and the size of his cock.
As if to reinforce her contemplations, Brianna’s elbow prodded Katie’s ribs forcefully, making her lurch sideways. She looked up, her eyes shooting sparks of indignant fury. The same hypnotism, same magnetism, engulfed her again. She paused and his blue eyes – bright and unreal – twinkled at her discomfiture. Katie raised her eyebrows, pretending to be brave and self-assured, but her insides had melted. The liquid heat was pouring out of her pussy, pooling in her PJ bottoms. Shocked into immobility, she bit her lip, and the man’s demeanor changed.
His face hardened imperceptibly and his eyes narrowed, boring into hers as if he was trying to see into her soul. Katie reeled back from the expression in his eyes, but he instantly turned around, leaving the café.
“What the hell just happened?” Brianna’s voice was comically high pitched.
“I uh…he was…”
“Do you know him?”
“No no. I don’t.” Katie struggled to breathe properly. The waiter came over and handed Katie a piece of paper. “What’s this?”
“A gentleman at the counter asked me to give this to you.”
“Oh, my God! That…” Brianna was quick to jump to Katie’s side.
Katie opened it tentatively, and her fingers shook in excitement. In it, written in concise, beautiful handwriting, was her address. Katie’s mouth dropped and even Brianna seemed incapable of speech. A few seconds passed. “That Bastard!” Brianna cried and Katie jumped.
“Lets go, Brianna.” Katie grabbed her bag and headed out, afraid to look up in case the man would still be there. My address. How in hell did he know my address? She checked her bag to see if her wallet was still in it. There was no way in hell he could’ve known her address. She had never laid eyes on him before, and she wished she would never again.
Katie slipped her keys into her front door and stepped in. She had spent the night at Brianna’s place, and hadn’t slept for a moment. Her joblessness, and eternally problematic life had kept her awake. Poor Brianna had just stayed up to talk.
