In Too Deep(69)

With her student budget outfit comprising of a wine-red satin top, only semi-tight black skirt and forty dollar heels, I would have expected either pop or hip-hop. "Does it have Hans Zimmer?"

Her request pleased me. While Zimmer is no Beethoven, he's one of the best modern composers today in my estimation. Williams is the master of the brass, but Zimmer's got him beat in percussion and strings. "I'm sure I can find something," I said, keying the touchpad and searching. Finding what I wanted, I tapped in the request for random selections, and soon could hear my personal favorite come muted over the speakers. "What do you think?"

"Time," Sophie replied, taking a sip of her mimosa. "Nice. I've used his work on Crimson Tide and Nolan's Batman movies for cardio workouts myself, but this is a pretty good one too."

I sat down next to her, and for the next hour, we discussed music and art of all things. It was nice, an amazing change of pace from the normal conversations I have in my line of work, or the typical conversations I have with women. I didn't once have to discuss just where I got my shirts from, or how expensive the watch I had on was.

As we talked, I was more and more impressed by Sophie. She kept herself to only two mimosas, sipping the drink carefully and not letting herself get drunk at all. I didn't tell her that the whole time I was sipping flat ginger ale, a modification of an old trick that I picked up from reading Batman as a little boy. With a drop of orange food coloring added, it looks just like aged scotch. By the time the last song drifted away, I knew that I wanted to see her again.

"You know, if you don't mind, I think I would like that dance now," I said, setting my empty glass aside and standing up. The VIP room had a small open area in the front. I'm sure it's been used for plenty of dancing of a different type than what I was wanting, "Would you?"

"I'd enjoy that," Sophie said, letting me pull her to her feet. She wasn't swaying at all, which was a good sign to me. She had handled the alcohol well. "What did you have in mind?"

Instead of answering, I tapped my request into the controller. The lights dimmed slightly, and slow saxophone filled the air. "Slow dancing should always be done to jazz," I told her, pulling Sophie in tight. My hands found the swell of her hips, resting lightly on the generous curve there. There's a saying that I agree with, even though I deride most people who use it. Real women do have curves, and Sophie's were wonderful. Pulling her in tight, her breasts pressed against my chest, I could feel both of us breathing heavier, our eyes locked on each other as the slow jazz morphed, acquiring a heavy undercurrent of bass that brought us closer and closer together. I could feel Sophie's nipples harden against my chest, and my cock was aching inside my jeans, when she pulled back, suddenly shy.

"I'm sorry...." she said, her hand resting on the swell of one beautiful breast. “I forgot. I can't. I have early work in the morning."

I was just about to reply when my cell phone, which I keep only for work, rang. I stifled a curse and pulled it out of my back pocket, flipping open the old fashioned looking phone. Despite outward appearances, it has all of the security technology you can get. It pays to be secure in my profession. "Yes?"



Sophie





I couldn't believe what I'd just told him. I regretted what I'd said the moment it left my lips. Could I be any more of a geek? I don't know what came over me, the man was obviously into me, and I most certainly was into him. I guess I just got scared on where we were headed.

Mark listened on the phone for less than a minute before sighing and nodding. "Fine. I'll take care of it tonight. Yes, I'll call you when it's done."

He slammed shut his phone and looked over at me. I could still see the impressive swell of his cock in his jeans and my body was still thrumming with arousal. Still, I could read it on his face. "Work?"

"The danger of being a freelancer," he said with a small smirk. "On the other hand, I can set my own vacations."

"I understand. Well, I should go anyway. It's a long cab ride back over to the North Side."

Mark shook his head and grinned. "You won't have to. The client that called me, they're located on the North Side. I can give you a ride if you want. I promise, I'll be a total gentleman."

I looked at him and considered his offer. Again, the angel and the devil were sitting on my shoulders, both of them talking in my ear. You should really go home and take a long cold shower, get ready for work tomorrow, the angel said. If you like him, you could get his phone number and set up a real date. If he's actually interested in you, he'd be willing to do that.

Yeah, and if you do that, you can spend another couple of months with no sex except your fingers and the dildo you keep in the nightstand, the devil replied in my other ear. And for f*ck's sake, you're on the pill, even though its been ages since you’ve seen any action. Do you remember how he felt? He's f*cking ripped, and that cock you felt pressed against you, honey . . .

I could hear the devil give a little cheer of victory before whispering a final piece of advice. Just keep Harpgirl over there quiet, and get his phone number too. If he's halfway as good as we think, you're going to want to call him up again.

My decision made, I focused back on Mark, who was giving me a perplexed look. "Sorry, just thinking," I said with a sheepish grin. "Okay, I'd love a ride home. You know where King Street and Graham Avenue meet?"