The Flirt. Kathleen Tessaro
an old film and he could really do with a drink.
As Flick strolled along, dry leaves, bereft of colour, crunched underneath her feet. Her thoughts were drawn again to the past and her gauche young lover—of the way he used to look at her. He was the first person who’d made her feel intoxicated; completely alive and powerful. At the time, she imagined that feeling would be hers for ever.
What a shock it had been when she began to grow invisible to men and they no longer registered her. How humiliating to discover time had abducted her favourite version of herself and replaced it with a saggy middle-aged woman instead.
Then she thought of Hughie Venables-Smythe’s amazing, clear blue eyes. Even now, she could still feel them gazing into hers, taking her in; seeing her.
And she smiled.
It was autumn. The leaves had begun to fall.
And she was still lovely, after all.
Hughie rang the bell of Leticia’s shop later that evening.
‘I’ve never seen you in a suit,’ she said, as she unlocked the door and let him in.
He smiled.
They hadn’t seen one another in days. And now a delightful frisson sparked between them, a certain shyness that made him feel as if they were starting all over again. She looked perfect tonight; all soft and so young in a simple pink silk dress. And he was struck again by how much he’d missed her. The room was dimly, sensuously lit and a breeze lightly ruffled the sheer curtains of the open window.
‘I had an interview,’ he explained, catching her about the waist and pulling her to him. ‘But seeing as we’re all dressed up, why don’t I take you to dinner?’
Her body yielded against his. And, nuzzling into his neck, she traced her fingers lightly over his torso. ‘Fuck me first, darling. You know I hate sex on a full stomach.’
He sighed.
It had been a long, weird day. Sometimes he wished he could just take her out on a date like any normal girl.
But, as her hand slipped down the front of his trousers, he reconsidered. ‘Oh, all right then.’
‘Your suit makes you look so distinguished.’ There was a gleam in her eye. ‘Like a big, powerful businessman.’
Forcing him backwards, she toppled him into one of the chairs. She shimmied a little and the silk dress shifted, slowly working its way down her naked shoulders. Brushing her mouth against his, she climbed on top of him and the dress fell to her waist. ‘I’m so sorry, sir,’ she whispered, her lips caressing his neck. ‘It seems I’ve forgotten to type those letters you wanted.’ He tried to pull her closer but she continued to work her way down. ‘I’m a very bad secretary.’ She deftly unzipped his fly. ‘But perhaps I can make it up to you.’
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