Passion. P.F. Kozak

Passion - P.F. Kozak


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the way, with some deliberately chosen soft music playing in the background. I told her how I knew Steve and how I came to be at the stable for the summer.

      Then I asked when she moved here. I asked the right question because that kept her talking for several minutes. All the while she talked, I noticed there was something akin to static electricity in the car, a charge to the air I could not explain.

      Having her so close once again had an effect on me. I willed myself out of a full-blown hard-on, thinking, Down, willie, it’s too early for that. Fortunately the tape ended at that moment, creating a well-timed distraction.

      The tape clicked off and I realized we should almost be there. I knew I had guessed correctly about the inn when we headed in that direction. Ivan gave me the directions and asked me to read them twice.

      After taking several turns, we found the inn, a secluded spot surrounded by trees. On the pretense of checking a road sign, I turned around to see if he had anything in the backseat indicating we would be staying the night. He didn’t. Well, I knew Gwen had, with Steve, no less. So the stage is set, I thought. I guess we will have to wait and see.

      As I rounded the final turn and the inn came into view, I realized why it had the reputation of being a romantic hideaway. It was unlikely anyone would find this place accidentally.

      Steve had told me about his few memorable nights there—in some detail, I might add. Until this evening I never had the occasion to test the waters there. It seemed odd not carrying an overnight bag into the place. I had every intention of spending the night with Pash. But since she didn’t as yet know that, it would have been imprudent to have packed my shaving kit and toothbrush.

      It being a weeknight, I had no trouble arranging a quiet corner table. They must receive frequent requests such as mine, because the layout of the place was geared to privacy. Large plants and tall vases of flowers had been strategically placed throughout the restaurant, partitioning off the tables from one another.

      The table they gave us actually had a live tree with lights sitting beside the table that provided a sufficiently intimate setting for our dinner. A piano player sitting off to the side played music that oozed atmosphere, with dancing slated to begin at nine o’clock. It seemed I had picked a winner, both in my new lady and in my choice of places to have a romantic liaison.

      Ivan came around the car and opened the door for me, helping me out. I smoothed my skirt and hoped I hadn’t become too wrinkled during the ride. He took my arm and we went inside. He said to the maître d’, “I have reservations for eight o’clock—the name is Kozak.”

      My heart jumped when the very official-looking gentleman replied, “Ah, yes, Dr. Kozak, please follow me.”

      They had our table ready. I took in as much as possible as we walked through the restaurant. It looked like a fairy tale, with flowers and trees everywhere. Some of the trees had small white lights on them. Our table sat behind one of those bushy trees. I understood why Gwen swooned over coming here. Sitting across the table from Ivan, I felt like Cinderella must have felt, seeing her prince at the ball.

      I sat quietly while Ivan pondered the wine list. “What is your preference, Pash: red or white?”

      “White, please. A glass of chardonnay will be fine.” Rather than just a glass, he ordered a particularly fine bottle of chardonnay. He also ordered a cocktail for himself, which I declined. I felt light-headed already and knew the wine would be all I could handle.

      The menu had no prices listed—always a sure sign that a restaurant was not for the faint of heart. I ordered salmon, hoping it would calm my jumpy stomach without being too heavy.

      I watched Ivan order his steak with the same quiet confidence I felt from him on the horse; he told the waiter exactly how he wanted it prepared. He seemed just as natural here as when I had first witnessed him in the stable. Trying not to appear too starry-eyed, I couldn’t help wondering what angel had led me to him.

      During dinner we continued to talk. The same charge which filled the car now hovered over our table. I realized, with some amusement, that I carried the feeling inside myself. The damnedest thing was I liked Pash. I liked her very much. What an extraordinary delight to talk to her! I discovered she did have a voice and could talk a blue streak once she got going.

      I interrupted her at one point, as I thought I recognized someone. “Do you see that bloke over there? He looks familiar to me. I think I’ve seen him in one of the shops.”

      “I recognized him when we walked in. He is the dispenser from the chemist’s shop.”

      “That’s right, now I remember him.”

      She nearly made me choke when she told me, “I asked Gwen about him once after he patted my bum and told me to give him a call anytime. Gwen told me he is married. It seems he doesn’t spend much time home alone when his wife travels for her job.”

      “No shit, Sherlock!”

      “Definitely no shit!”

      I couldn’t help poking at her. “So have you ever called him?”

      “Heavens, no!” She looked aghast.

      This redhead had a real bite to her! Christ, I really did enjoy her company!

      During dinner I probably talked too much, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Ivan didn’t appear to mind, smiling or laughing out loud practically the whole time. When he asked me if I had ever called the dispenser, I nearly panicked. I thought I might have given him the wrong impression. The dispenser fellow gives me the heebie-jeebies. I didn’t want Ivan to think I had anything to do with him.

      Ivan had a second drink but I still preferred to stay with just the wine. I knew I could handle the wine. Anything more and I risked getting drunk and possibly making a fool of myself. I really wanted Ivan to think well of me. More than that, I wanted to attract him like he dazzled me.

      I noticed his cuff links when he refilled my glass. They reflected the lights shining from the tree beside us. I also noticed the dark hair peeking out from under the cuff of his white shirt. A ripple of gooseflesh ran down my arm. Then the lights were lowered even more than they already were, and couples started to dance.

      I made sure I kept her wineglass full, wanting some insurance that the night would continue as planned. I wanted her mellow, but not drunk. I had been there, done that. It isn’t much fun bedding a lady who is on the verge of passing out or spewing. But mellow…hell, yes, mellow is good.

      By the time the dance music began, she had noticeably relaxed. Softened and suggestible—that’s where I wanted her when I asked her to dance. As for me, I had another vodka. She got to me, she really did. I had a semi since getting out of the car and it had gotten more difficult to keep in check. The alcohol helped keep the situation under control.

      But now, as I took hold of her to dance, I knew it wouldn’t be long until she felt my erection against her body. Soon I would know which way the dice fell. Snake eyes and the evening would end, but come on, baby, give me a seven.

      We talked a bit longer and then he asked me to dance. I hoped my trembling legs would support me as he led me to the dance floor. The music seemed to flow right through my heart as he held me. I felt him kiss my hair and I moved a little closer to him. He held me even tighter, squeezing my waist.

      I closed my eyes and lost myself in the moment, smelling him through his coat. I felt the rhythm of his breathing, the softness of his heartbeat. Then I felt his hand on my neck. The same man who held me yesterday on the back of a horse held me again tonight. The same hand that held the reins with mine now massaged my neck.

      When Ivan stroked my bottom, I practically went limp. He must have realized how strongly I reacted because he asked me if I wanted to sit down.

      She had on heels, which brought her up a couple of inches, giving her just enough height to lay her head against my shoulder. That also brought her hair maddeningly close to my nose, with the fragrance making me drunker than the vodka.


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