Page 100 of Into the Dark
“I’m not really dressed appropriately for a date. I literally just had sex in this dress.” I slide my hands into his hair and tug at the length softly. It’s gotten so long. He suits it though.
“You look and smell fucking perfect to me…” he mumbles, moving further down my body.
“You said I smelled good after my run this morning,” I point out.
“What?” He looks up. “You did.”
“You’re deviant and delusional,” I tell him.
He shifts up off me and stands up, and I just stare open-mouthed. Christ, he looks like a sex god. Topless, loose sweatpants hanging deliciously off his hips, hair mussed from sex. Right then, I don’t particularly want to leave the bedroom, let alone go outside on a date.
“So why don’t we go buy you something then?” he suggests brightly. “Something appropriate.”
“You want to take me clothes shopping?” I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face.
“Yeah, why not?” He shrugs.
“You’d want to do that? Go shopping with me.”
“There’re a million things I want to do with you, baby.” He waggles his eyebrows.
“And clothes shopping is one of them?”
He nods. “Yeah. And a second date.”
Shopping with Jake. I imagine him holding my bag and cardigan outside the fitting room, other women casting longing looks at him as they pass to go inside. Then I imagine him fucking me in the cramped cubicle, a hand over my mouth to keep me quiet. Okay, that obviously can’t happen, but the thought itself is enough to propel me up from the bed into his arms. I rise up on my tiptoes to kiss him gently, and he wraps an arm around me and pulls me tight into his body. He smells of sex and his faded shower gel, and it softens my still warm insides.
“You look very hot in these, by the way.” I drag a hot, loaded look down his body.
He follows my look down his body and then looks back at me, confused. “I’m wearing five-year-old gym gear.”
I sigh. “Mmm, and it looks great on you. Remind me to come to the gym with you sometime.” I float away from him and downstairs, leaving him to change.
In the kitchen I pour myself a large glass of cold water from the tap on the fridge and drink deeply. When I turn around I spot the piece of paper with Susan’s number on it still lying on the counter. Tentatively, I move toward it, setting the glass down and picking it up. It’s written in an almost childlike hand, and I feel a wash of sympathy at the sight of it.
Though I have absolutely no clue why, or what I’m going to do with it, I rush over to my bag to get my phone. Then I use the camera to take a photo of the note, ensuring the number and address are clearly visible. I place it back in the exact spot she left it and take my water to go wait for Jake on the sofa.
When I hear him coming down the stairs I look up. He’s dressed in loose blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt, his hair smoothed back and neat and his sunglasses hooked casually into the V-neck. He looks bloody handsome. Fresh and relaxed, sated too. I watch with interest as he crosses into the kitchen, and when the note snags his attention he snatches it up, scrunching it, then throws it into the large white trash can in the corner. When he turns to me I drop my eyes and hit save to store her number and address into my contact list.
“Ready to go?” he asks.
“Crumpled and covered in sex, yes, I am.” I grin as I jump up from the sofa. I slide my feet into my brown wedge sandals and lift my bag. By the breakfast bar, I slide my hand into his. “Let’s go shopping.”
He kisses me quickly on the lips and pulls me toward the door.
Shopping with Jake is a lot like I imagined it would be. He’s patient and follows me around dutifully, capturing the interest of curious salesgirls in almost every shop we go into. Men browsing happily in women’s clothes shops are a rare breed.
Oxford Street is, of course, ridiculously busy, but since it’s getting late the stores have thinned somewhat and the staff are flagging. Much like me. I’m hungry, and I start to wonder why on earth I didn’t just drive back to mine and get a change of clothes—it would have taken less time than this. I’m an exceptionally bad shopper at the best of times, fussy and meticulous and then irritable when I can’t find anything. Shopping with Jake is a completely different experience. He’s cheeky and relaxed and in fact a very good shopping companion. Except that every time he places his hand on my neck and presses a lingering kiss to my mouth, I forget almost entirely what I’m supposed to be doing.
“What about this?” he says from behind me. When I turn he’s holding out a gray semi-shift dress with cap sleeves and a very small houndstooth pattern. It has a thin belt of the same material. It’s actually very me. I’d certainly wear it. For work.
I smile encouragingly. “It looks like something I’d wear to work, not out on a date.”
He nods and looks at the dress again. “Ahh, that’s why I like it then. I like you in your work clothes.”
I lower my voice and shoot him a flirty look. “I thought you liked me in no clothes.”
His mouth twitches. “Yeah. That too…” His eyes turn distant as if he’s imagining just that.
