You know what Monday means…
More sexy fun with Nick and Mia from Beguiled: Frost Trilogy 1.
C’mon, of course a bloke as hot as Nick Frost has a super sexy car…
* * *
Bang on six I leave the building.
He’s there. And my heart does a little happy, skippy dance.
I could hardly miss him; parked directly outside as he is, in a white Maserati convertible. Whoa. The top’s down. Oh well, there goes my hairdo.
He gets out of the car and walks languorously round to my side all languid limbed; looking lush in a black T shirt and jeans that hang low on his hips. My inner trollop salivates at the sight as my conscience rolls her eyes: Have you no self control?
So we’re not going somewhere fancy then.
And I melt. That’s all it takes.
My conscience wanders off somewhere shaking her head and tutting.
‘Hi.’ Lowering his face to mine he bestows my lips with the briefest of kisses that sends a shimmering trail glittering down to my groin, and leaves me speechless.
He opens the passenger door and I sink into the luxurious wraparound black leather sports seat emblazoned with the Trident logo as he makes his way round to his side.
In my nervousness I pull at the seat belt too sharply causing it to stick. Frost reaches across and takes the strap from my grasp. ‘Here. Let me.’
The back of his hand brushes against my breast as he gently draws the strap across my body sending darts of pleasure sparking and causing my heart to beat a million times a minute.
When he’s happy my seat belt is secured he presses a button on the dash that looks more like an aircraft’s cockpit and the top quietly rolls up and locks in place.
‘Don’t want your hair getting messed up. It looks lovely by the way.’ He turns the ignition and the engine growls. ‘But I can’t guarantee it won’t get messed up at some point.’
Pressing another button Bryan Adams singing about how he wants to do to me what I apparently do to him, fills the car as Frost releases the handbrake and peels away from the kerb.
He drives fast, but with confidence, changing smoothly through the gears. There’s an undeniable tension between us. That awkward anticipatory tension when it’s new and the sparks are flying, but neither of you knows what to say or do; too nervous to make the first move. A tension made all the more palpable for being in the close confines of the car.
I know why I’m quiet. I’m sitting in very close proximity to him for a start and I’m flustered. But after his relentless pursuit I hadn’t expected silence from Frost. He certainly hasn’t lacked for anything to say before, but now it seems the over confident, predatory Player is lost for words? Surely not.
Turning my head just enough, I sneak a sideways glance at him. A furrow creases his forehead as he concentrates on the road ahead and he’s biting his bottom lip. Maybe he is nervous too. Well colour me surprised.
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