and demanding, but only when she'd made it clear she wasn't going to stop him. He was polite .
Wulf had no similar such compulsion. He touched her often and frequently, and without any sort of hesitation. It was like it didn't even occur to him that he should ask permission – or he just didn't care. They sat side by side at the bar and he would reach out occasionally, tucking a stray hair behind her ear, touching her thigh below the hem of her dress, running his finger down the side of her arm. It made her think of the other night, when he'd kissed her without any ceremony, any hesitation.
It made her feel stupid with anticipation, wondering how far he'd go. She liked it, that he assumed such a familiarity. Took such charge. When his hand would leave her skin, she found herself holding her breath till it came back.
If this keeps up much longer, I'm going to pass out from lack of oxygen.
“So what else do you do?” he asked as their plates were taken away.
“Just baking,” she answered.
Wulf spun on his stool so he was facing her, one of his elbows propped on the bar, a glass of brandy in his hand. She had both her elbows on the bar, her hands clasped together and her cheek pressed against them so she could face him. His knee was jutting into the side of her leg and just that simple contact caused her temperature to sky rocket.
She glanced around, wondering if anyone was around to witness her spontaneous combustion. The place had cleared out. It was only them, the bartender, and a bus boy wiping down tables. The setting sun was filtering into the space, coating everything in a soft gold glow.
“That's it? Morning till night? From the moment of waking? Jesus christ, your life must be so bland,” he snorted. She actually laughed – she was getting used to his odd sense of humor.
“No, smart ass. I have a roommate, I spend a lot of time with her. I like going to museums – love the aquarium,” she told him. He nodded while she spoke, but his eyes were wandering around the bar. Like he was bored. She took a deep breath. “Though recently, I've kind of been going through a change.” His eyes cut back to her.
Ha, got him.
“Really? What kind of change?” he asked.
“Like I said, it's recent. Very recent. I'm not sure how long it'll last,” she warned him.
“I swear, if you try to convert me to Scientology, I will wring your neck.”
She burst out laughing again.
“No, no cults or anything. But … I guess I should tell you, I'm kinda sorta seeing someone else,” she said.
“Ah. Kinda sorta?” he asked.
“Yeah. He's a new friend, sorta.”
“You sound unsure.”
“We're not boyfriend and girlfriend or anything,” she assured him. “But I like spending time with him, and we have slept together. I just thought you should know.”
She'd never in her life had that kind of conversation with a man. She suddenly felt very grown up. She wanted to order a gin and tonic, and start discussing the Dow Jones Industrial, or something.
“Well then. Thank you for sharing. Do you plan on sleeping with him again any time soon?” he checked.
“I don't plan on it,” she was honest.
“But it's a possibility.”
“I guess so.”
“Are you always this unsure about people you may or may not be sleeping with?” he asked. She slapped him on the knee.
“Yes. I told you, this is new to me. Seeing you, seeing that guy. I just wanted to be honest with you, from the beginning,” she said.
Wulf reached out and grabbed her knee, his fingers curling into her skin, and he gently pulled her so she spun around on her stool top and faced him. Both his hands came to rest on the tops of her thighs and she bit into her bottom lip.
“Well thank you, Katya, for your honesty,” he said, sliding his hands up so his fingertips disappeared underneath her dress. “I have to say, though, I'm curious about these 'changes' you're going through. If they involve sleeping with two men at the same time, what else are you
Wulf had no similar such compulsion. He touched her often and frequently, and without any sort of hesitation. It was like it didn't even occur to him that he should ask permission – or he just didn't care. They sat side by side at the bar and he would reach out occasionally, tucking a stray hair behind her ear, touching her thigh below the hem of her dress, running his finger down the side of her arm. It made her think of the other night, when he'd kissed her without any ceremony, any hesitation.
It made her feel stupid with anticipation, wondering how far he'd go. She liked it, that he assumed such a familiarity. Took such charge. When his hand would leave her skin, she found herself holding her breath till it came back.
If this keeps up much longer, I'm going to pass out from lack of oxygen.
“So what else do you do?” he asked as their plates were taken away.
“Just baking,” she answered.
Wulf spun on his stool so he was facing her, one of his elbows propped on the bar, a glass of brandy in his hand. She had both her elbows on the bar, her hands clasped together and her cheek pressed against them so she could face him. His knee was jutting into the side of her leg and just that simple contact caused her temperature to sky rocket.
She glanced around, wondering if anyone was around to witness her spontaneous combustion. The place had cleared out. It was only them, the bartender, and a bus boy wiping down tables. The setting sun was filtering into the space, coating everything in a soft gold glow.
“That's it? Morning till night? From the moment of waking? Jesus christ, your life must be so bland,” he snorted. She actually laughed – she was getting used to his odd sense of humor.
“No, smart ass. I have a roommate, I spend a lot of time with her. I like going to museums – love the aquarium,” she told him. He nodded while she spoke, but his eyes were wandering around the bar. Like he was bored. She took a deep breath. “Though recently, I've kind of been going through a change.” His eyes cut back to her.
Ha, got him.
“Really? What kind of change?” he asked.
“Like I said, it's recent. Very recent. I'm not sure how long it'll last,” she warned him.
“I swear, if you try to convert me to Scientology, I will wring your neck.”
She burst out laughing again.
“No, no cults or anything. But … I guess I should tell you, I'm kinda sorta seeing someone else,” she said.
“Ah. Kinda sorta?” he asked.
“Yeah. He's a new friend, sorta.”
“You sound unsure.”
“We're not boyfriend and girlfriend or anything,” she assured him. “But I like spending time with him, and we have slept together. I just thought you should know.”
She'd never in her life had that kind of conversation with a man. She suddenly felt very grown up. She wanted to order a gin and tonic, and start discussing the Dow Jones Industrial, or something.
“Well then. Thank you for sharing. Do you plan on sleeping with him again any time soon?” he checked.
“I don't plan on it,” she was honest.
“But it's a possibility.”
“I guess so.”
“Are you always this unsure about people you may or may not be sleeping with?” he asked. She slapped him on the knee.
“Yes. I told you, this is new to me. Seeing you, seeing that guy. I just wanted to be honest with you, from the beginning,” she said.
Wulf reached out and grabbed her knee, his fingers curling into her skin, and he gently pulled her so she spun around on her stool top and faced him. Both his hands came to rest on the tops of her thighs and she bit into her bottom lip.
“Well thank you, Katya, for your honesty,” he said, sliding his hands up so his fingertips disappeared underneath her dress. “I have to say, though, I'm curious about these 'changes' you're going through. If they involve sleeping with two men at the same time, what else are you
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