An Acute Attraction (4 page)

             “What delights may I tempt you with then Miss Chambers? May I tempt you to a banana or some yoghurt perhaps?”

                I may have only known this guy for less than three days, but I know a double entendre when I hear one. So rolling my eyes and shaking my head, I determine that two can play at this game. So relaxing back into the seat, I make my first move.

              “Mmm!! I think I will have some strawberries please Sir.”

                Cocking up one of his eyebrows, I surmise he is taken by surprise by my reply, but he knows the game is on!! “As you wish Miss Chambers” And he bows before me like a butler would.

                Trying his best to keep a serious face on, Marc places six and then seven, delectable strawberries into a bowl for me. Handing the bowl over is not in his game plan however, as he slowly strolls forward. I lift my feet on to the sofa so that they are curled around to the side of me and this movement causes my robe to slide open revealing my shapely legs. One side of his mouth lifts into a half smile, in a decidedly wicked way, while mine suddenly goes bone dry. Have I taken on more than I can chew here?

                I would usually be shy having had that happen and cover myself back up as he undresses me with his eyes in an epicurean manner. Yet right now I don’t feel embarrassed one miniscule by what he sees. Casually sitting down on the floor in front of me he cheekily glides his right hand along my exposed thigh, forcing my eyes to close in an involuntary way and making my head hum. Waking me from my sensual haziness, Marc comes out with a classic.

             “Did you know that strawberries are classed as an aphrodisiac?”

              Trying to keep a straight face as he says that is easier said than done. Marc sees the glint in my eyes with the thoughts that I have whizzing through my mind.

            “I did yes. I’m not sure how true that is though, as you would have a lot of incredibly horny people after a day out watching tennis at Wimbledon and what with the cream as well!”

               Marc throws his head back as he lets out a roar of laughter. Move over Barry White, Marc Sanders is the newly crowned ‘Chocolaty Coated” King of laughter. It is the most amazing sound; deep and full of heart. Once he has composed himself, he picks up one of the strawberries and offers it to me; now isn’t this something you would die for, to have coated in chocolate? Tantalisingly slowly I take the strawberry seductively between my teeth and bite.  Marc has his thumb there at the ready to wipe the juice that runs down my chin, yet still I automatically cup my hand to catch any drips that he misses; which I can tell you are none. Taking the half I have bitten off into my mouth I start to chew as Marc vehemently watches me and then exquisitely sucks the sticky red liquid from his thumb. I physically feel my pupils dilate as it is one of the most erotic acts I have ever seen in my life. It takes a moment for me to realise that I have stopped chewing the darn strawberry, as I was hypnotised by Marc. 

             “Is it ever likely the Romans had the best orgies if this is anything to go by?”

              Now how I don’t choke on what was in my mouth by what he has just said, is a bloody miracle. In the most un-lady like fashion I cough on the seeds I just inhaled on hearing what I did. Standing so I can get my breath, Marc gets to his feet to rub and pat my back. At this exact moment in time, I cannot quite make my mind up as to which has the redder complexion, the fruit in the bowl or me!

              “Cough it up Isabel, cough it up!” Marc continues rubbing my back to help. “Are you Ok now?”

               Even though his words are said with some concern, I can hear the amusement in his voice. In the meantime, all I can do is nod my reply before my breathing returns to normal. When I’m finally able to talk I stand and regain my composure.

             “Yes I’m fine, Thank you.”

              Marc looks down at me, with his right hand still firmly affixed to my back. With his other hand he lifts my chin so that I’m looking directly up at him. I anticipate what happens next, so when I feel the warmth of Marc’s mouth up on mine, I welcome it. Resting my hands on his waist, he deepens the kiss. The hand that lifted my chin moves around, so his long fingers can rake through my hair and hold me firmly to him. There is no roughness to the kiss, just pure amorous desire. It takes some effort for the both of us to break away from one another, but when we do Marc rests his forehead laboriously against mine and running his fingers down the length of my hair, he exhales heavily.

              “Good God Isabel, we will never leave this room if we carry on like this. I don’t think you realise the effect you have up on me.”

               As he says that he moves away and I notice him adjusting himself in his trousers. Did I really do that to him? I smile; I caused that reaction to Marc Sanders, the sex God who could quite possibly have anyone he wanted.
Go me!

               The next hour passes by with us eating our titillating breakfast, along with chatting about anything and everything. Marc reads the Sunday paper while I go to have a shower. I have to dress in the only clothes I can get my hands on; which are from last night. Once I’ve gathered my belongings I awkwardly walk towards the front door and fidgeting with my bag I look over towards Marc.

             “Well thank you for what was undoubtedly a memorable night and morning, I really did enjoy it.”

               Leaning his head to one side Marc pauses as though he is contemplating what he is going to say to me next.

             “What do you have planned for the rest of the day? Don’t change whatever you may have already organised, but I would really like it if we could spend it together. There is an enchanting House I’d like to visit and it would be an honour if you would say yes to coming along with me.”

                Even though I’m surprised by his invitation, I truthfully cannot think of anything else I’d rather be doing today and so it is no real surprise when I accept his invite.

               “I would love to. Let me go get changed and I will be right with you.”

                Marc doesn’t hold back on showing his delight to my response. Standing, he walks over to me and before opening the door, he bends to kiss my cheek.

               “I’ll wait down stairs in the lounge. As soon as you are ready I will drive us there.”

                 I have always taken an interest in British history, especially when it comes to our monarchy and aristocracy. My mum actually traced our line, through her maiden name, down to a monarch; Charles II had a mistress apparently, I’m not sure how much of it can be proved, but I will go with it; Princess Isabel! Lady Isabel! Baroness Isabel!! Any of those sound good to me. After a recent visit to a Tudor House with my class though, I’m glad I didn’t live during that era. Did you know Elizabeth I allegedly admitted to bathing only 4 times a year? Yup! I couldn’t do without my bubbles, candles, rest and relaxation, and occasional glass of wine, at least 3 times a week. Okay, I’ve never done the wine part, texting yes.
Come on! Who hasn’t?
I do worry as to where my mind wanders to sometimes. Anyway, here we are driving up a long straight drive way in Marc’s hired black Mercedes M Class and its plush, comfortable interior is everything I expected and more. It's only when I come to get out of the blooming beast of a car, I realise that for a not so tall 5 foot 3 inch woman like me there is no flattering way of doing it. If I was to own one,
which would be like never
, I would have to have a retractable step ladder fitted to it! So thank the gentlemanly Gods, when Marc comes around to help me. Once I am out of the car we see Ickworth House in all of its grandeur.

                 Situated in the county of Suffolk; one of the largest counties in the UK, and its surroundings are as picturesque as the house itself. The Georgian Building built in 1795 houses a history of scandal and controversy, brought together by the Hervey family, particularly the Marques of Bristol; an eccentric man who is described as having a passion for art, Italy and enjoying a darn good party! Depending on which way you see it, unfortunately or fortunately, the lifestyle hasn’t changed with the generation of today. Luckily as what has to be a positive, you can certainly see the influences in the beautiful Italianate gardens; expertly trimmed trees, box hedges and bushes, plus I am not joking when I say that the grass looks as though it has been artistically painted on to the ground. Walking around them with this incredibly handsome man beside me, I can see he would look every bit at home here. As time passes, I am glad I wore my flat sandals, blue cropped trousers and white tunic top, as feeling the stones crunch under foot and the heat radiating off the grass would have been uncomfortable had I have worn anything else I had packed to bring away with me.

                Sitting on a low wall looking towards the impressive white house and its dome that covers the main part of the building, I sigh with contentment. For most of the morning we have talked about the surroundings and the intriguing history of the place. Any silent moments have never felt uncomfortable, just being able to share this point in time with the man sat next to me was enough! Looking at his Rolex watch, Marc then nudges me with his shoulder.

              “Are you getting hungry?”

                Realising I felt quite ravenous I nod. My stomach also voices its opinion.

              “I am actually. What and where do you fancy eating?”

                Staring at me with his hungry eyes tells me exactly what he fancied and it wasn’t a cucumber sandwich! With a butterfly sensation in my stomach, I knew the effect he must be having further down. I squeeze my thighs together to try to stop what is happening.
Jeez, how does this guy do it to me?
When that doesn’t work I break the eye contact. I hear the smile as he speaks.

               “I have a picnic basket in the back of the car, I’ll go and grab it, and then we can find somewhere to sit.”

                Frowning I think back. When did he find the time to put together a picnic? Reading my mind he adds,

               “While you were taking your shower this morning, I asked the manager at the hotel if the kitchen would be able to put one together for us.”

                 I raise my eyebrows suspiciously at him, “You hadn’t even asked me if I would come along with you at that point, so how on earth did you know I would say yes?”

                 Laughing he replies, “I didn’t. I just hoped you would agree to and prepared for it. If you had said no, well I would have one big picnic all to myself.”

                  I can’t help but laugh with him and at the nerve for him to assume I’d take him up on his offer. In spite of that, I have to congratulate the guy on forward planning. I shake my head and watch as he jumps up and stretches out a hand for me to take.

               “We must take some pictur
es before we leave,” I suggest, “It would be a shame not to while we’re here.”

                “I concur Miss Chambers, it would be”.

                 With that Marc takes out his iphone and points it in my direction. “No not of me you fool, the house”, I squeal as I put my hands up to cover my face.

                 Chuckling he says, “Why can’t I have two beauties in the same picture?”

                 Crossing my arms in front of me I pout, “Are you mocking me Mr Sanders?”

                 As quick as a flash he replies “Never!” And takes the most unflattering picture I have ever seen
in my life, which he finds all the more hilarious. This only makes me pout even more like a sulky teenager, so snatching the phone out of his hands, I line the camera up to snap some photos of him.

               “I believe it’s your turn Mr Sanders”
                A few more photographs are taken of us, even a couple with the both of us in; with an outstretched arm he takes some quite good ones. Well nothing can be worse than the first one he took! I will have to ask if he can forward them to me.

                Once we’re done, with laced fingers we wander back to the car. I occasionally feel him squeeze my hand, which makes me go all gooey inside!