“Nice place,” she says. “I wasn't expecting this.”

  I hand her a glass of wine. “What were you expecting?”

  “I don't know. Something between a hovel and a lair, I think, given your single status. Not a top floor apartment with books and plants and real artwork on the walls, anyway.”

  I'm proud of my place. I bought it years ago before the restaurants, wine bars, and art galleries moved into the area, and I've done a lot of work on it bit by bit to get it looking like it does now.

  I grin at her. “Take a look around, if you like, while I finish cooking.”

  She doesn't need to be offered twice. She puts down her glass and goes into the hall from the open plan living room, kitchen and dining area.

  Just then I remember. “I tidied up. Just don't open the hall clo…”

  Crap. Too late. There's a crash as all the stuff tumbles out onto the wooden floor. “Sorry,” she says. “I thought it was the door to a room.”

  I peer out into the hall and laugh. There's all kinds of stuff lying there in a heap—my cricket bat, tattered jeans and T-shirts covered in paint, tools, games, DVDs and a mountain of ironing. “Now you know all my secrets. How I keep the place tidy. What I did just before you arrived to remove everything hovel or lair like.”

  “Your secret fetish for… what's this? Scrabble.”

  “I threw everything in there last minute. Keep meaning to clean it out.”

  She starts piling everything back inside.

  “Don't worry,” I say. “Just leave it and finish your tour while you can. The mess will only escape into its natural habitat eventually. Dinner's just about ready.”

  She giggles. “Are all the other doors safe?”

  “Completely safe.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Amy

  I'm not so sure about that. I might be safe from piles of ironing and Scrabble landing at my feet, but when I open the door to what must be his bedroom, my heart pounds. The bed is huge, covered in pristine white linen. The modern furniture is dark wood, the carpeting soft and the lighting subtle. I gulp. What the hell was I doing coming here? Yet I knew what I was getting into. And I still showed up. Nothing would keep me away.

  I peek quickly at the bathroom and spare room, and go back to the main room trying to forget about that huge bed. He's just bringing dishes from the kitchen area and serving up at the small dining table in one corner overlooking the park. The whole apartment is lovely—Victorian-style high ceilings and big windows with comfortable twenty-first century furniture, mainly in shades of cream and coffee with dark wood. I love it. He's so lucky to have a place like this. I guess firefighters get paid a lot better than nurses, even though I'm lucky to work in a private hospital with better pay.

  Tonight is one of those times I regret still living with Dad and Grace. Sandra wants us to get a place together, but I can't really afford it on my nurse's salary. It would be nice to have a space like this, though, high above the street away from the noise and bustle, but right at the heart of things.

  Living at home, I had to tell them I might be late tonight and not to wait up. Of course, they were curious where I was going and who with. It was like being a teenager again. I didn't want to lie to them, so I just told them I was going on a date with Ronan again and hoped they would leave it there. I left quickly in case they started giving out warnings about staying safe.

  “Did you like what you saw?” Ronan asks.

  “I love it.”

  “I love what I'm seeing too,” he says, looking at me. “Not just your dress. You look beautiful.”

  And I'm pleased all the extra effort I made after work with my hair and clothes and makeup paid off. If he looked at my bedroom right now, he might think a herd of stampeding buffaloes had just run through.

  *

  The food is good. It's more than good. I feel like I'm being treated to a feast of delicacies, not just a dinner.

  “Wow! Where did you learn to cook like that?” I say when I taste the little Thai appetizers.

  “I had to cook at home because dad worked long hours. So, I taught myself. My first efforts were terrible. Solid macaroni cheese. Lumpy mashed potatoes. Raw chicken.”

  “It's a wonder you survived.”

  “I had to learn fast, for sure. Dad ate it all. He never complained. Well, maybe he drew the line at raw chicken. We had to call out for pizza that night.”

  “So what made you become a firefighter instead of a chef?”

  “We had a career day at school.”

  “I don't remember getting anything out of those. They wanted everyone to be accountants at my school.”

  “This was when I was five. We got to sit in the fire engine and try on the full gear. I never forgot it.”

  The main course—beef in red wine—is just as good as the appetizers. I think he could give Luigi a run for his money. Ronan talks about all kinds of stuff: his work and mine, movies, places he's been. He asks all about my work, my childhood, the things I like. I find myself telling him things I never talked about to a guy in the past.

  And then just as I feel most at ease in his company, he makes a “got to love women and their funny ways” comment and it makes me wonder how many he knows and if he's so good at small talk because he's used to chatting to and seducing so many of them. A whole line of them. He probably cooks women dinner all the time. Puts them at their ease. And I just fell for it along with all the other women.

  I get up from the table. “I should be going.” I'll call a cab so I can get out here as soon as possible and lick my wounds in peace.

  He looks startled and puts his hand on mine. Damn! His touch is still electric. I stop in my tracks.

  “Hey, there's no need to go,” he says. “A frown came over your face just then. The emojis were working overtime. Tell me what you were you thinking.”

  “Nothing.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “Don't tell me that was nothing. One moment you were telling me about your pet guinea pig. And I thought it was cute. The next, you want to go home. Unless you have a sudden urge to get another pet, there must be something going on.”

  Why can't he just let me go? But he's waiting for an answer, and I have to say something.

  “I was thinking that you do this all the time.”

  “Do what?”

  “Give women dinner. Turn on your charm.”

  “Wrong.”

  “Wrong?”

  “I don't usually cook for women. I just wanted to cook for you. And this is just me, not some charm offensive. The real thing. Am I making you nervous again?”

  “Yes.”

  “The last thing I want to do is scare you away. You can go home anytime, if that's what you really want.”

  He gets up and pulls me to him, holding me against his chest, my breasts pressed against his hard abs, my nipples hardening at the delicious pressure, as if they had a memory of their own from last night and could smell the now familiar man scent of him. “Do you really want to go home?”

  “No,” I mumble into his chest. “No. I want to stay.”

  “I'm the one who should be scared,” he says into my hair so quietly I just catch it. I don't get a chance to ask him what he means, because he leans down and kisses me, his body hard against mine. I feel the evidence of his arousal and every thought gets obliterated by my aching, hungry need for his touch.

  CHAPTER 15

  Ronan

  She lets out a small moan of pleasure as our lips and bodies clash.

  “You're so fucking sexy,” I murmur between kisses. “I want to touch and stroke and lick every part of you.”

  She whimpers at my words. I don't know whether they are with shock or delight or both, but I can't stop.

  “First, I want to see all of you.” I run my hands over the front of her dress where her nipples are threatening to burst through the thin fabric, and I tease them with my fingers. There's no trace of a bra.

  “Are you naked under there?” I ask.

  She nods, blushing, and another surge of blood rushes to my cock as I unbutton the front of her dress, never taking my eyes off hers, and pull the dress off her shoulders so it falls in a pool of fabric at her feet. She has little white lace panties and bare sun-kissed legs. I wasn't lying. I want to touch and stroke and lick her all over and then all over again and make her beg to come.

  I pick her up and carry her in my arms over to the couch, setting her down there beside me.

  “You're overdressed,” she says.

  “But my mouth is naked, so that's what counts.” I bend and plant a path of kisses down her neck and chest, until I reach her protruding nipple and engulf it with my mouth, licking around the tip in slow motion.

  Her breath comes out in gasps. Holding her breast up to my mouth with my hands, I look her in the eye and lick the peak back and forth, teasing it mercilessly. She lets out a squeak and closes her eyes at the sensation, the squirming of her lower body and legs, betraying her pleasure.

  With my hot mouth sucking on the tip, I circle a path around the underside of her breast with my finger and trace a line down over her flat stomach to the softly elasticized edge of her panties, and then on over her fabric-covered mound to the tantalizing lacy dampness between her legs and the burgeoning hard nub of her clit.

  She whines and tries to grind down on my hand as I take my finger away. But I retrace the path of my finger with my lips, down and down, taking in the delightful scent of her arousal.

  Pulling aside her panties with one hand and holding her open for my mouth with the other, I delve into her center for a first delicious tasting of her sweetness with my tongue.

  Then, like a man possessed, I feast on her, holding her open as she squirms beneath me, licking and sucking her exposed folds. Spurred on by the unbridled sounds of pleasure coming from her mouth, I don't stop until she cries out my name, her soft thighs shuddering around my face.

  I lift her onto my lap, kissing her hair and neck softly, pulling off the discarded panties and toying with her folds while she comes down from her orgasm.

  “You're fucking amazing when you come, Amy. I can't wait to see you come on my cock.”

  She gasps at that like a skittish little maid. If she wasn't naked on my lap, my fingers between her legs and I hadn't just seen her open up her thighs to my mouth, I would have guessed lack of experience. I want to make our first time together something she'll never forget, no matter how many lovers she's had. It's a first for me to care about anything like that. If a woman comes, I would have thought “job done” in the past. But I want to find out all about Amy. “Tell me what you like.”

  “I don't know. What do you like?”

  I look her straight in the eye. “I'd like to take you every which way, and then some.”

  “Which ways? Tell me.”

  I look at her wondering how much talk she likes. I hope it works for her, now that she asked me. And then, what the hell, I plow in where angels fear to tread. “I'd like to bend you naked over my bed, and watch you lying there waiting for my touch. I'd reach around you to feel the weight of your breasts in my hands, squeezing your magnificent nipples between my fingers, listening to your breath as it catches in your throat. I'd like to spank your beautiful ass as I spread your legs and impale you on my cock, sliding deep and hard inside you.”

  She moans almost a growl, her thighs gripping my fingers, and shifts around on my lap, her naked body against me, sending my cock wild.

  I lift her chin so she's looking at me again before I continue. I want to see her reaction to plain vanilla sex. If she's skittish about this, I won't take it further. Not now.

  “Next, I'd have you turn around and face me, showing me your naked breasts. I'd have you climb on my cock and take me inside you. I'd watch you moving up and down on me, feeling your heat on my cock, watching the gentle bounce of your gorgeous tits until I couldn't take any more. Then I'd flip you over on your back and take you so hard and fast and relentlessly you couldn't think straight.”

  A sound escapes her lips, halfway between a groan and a whimper.

  “You like it hard or not, baby?” I hope she says hard.

  “I don't know.”

  “You don't know. You mean you never had it hard and rough.”

  “I never had it… at all.” She blushes redder than I've ever seen her blush before.

  “Damn! You're a virgin?”

  “Is that so surprising?”

  “Frankly, yes. You're a beautiful woman. I just expected you'd have had guys taking you out all the time.”

  “No one that mattered.”

  “You weren't even tempted?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Fuck! What does Sandra say about that?”

  “She thinks I should get over it so I can stop worrying about it.”

  “And you chose me to get over it with? I'm honored and all, but I don't like being used, Amy.”

  “It wasn't like that. I want to, with you. You're the first guy I've ever wanted to sleep with.”

  “There's no sleeping involved. Just want to be clear about that.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Amy

  No sleeping involved! We both laugh at that. It breaks the tension. I told him about me and he hasn't run for the hills. I guess I'm still naked on his lap and in his apartment so he couldn't exactly run away, but it doesn't seem like he wants to either.

  “So, your first time,” he says, his fingers still stroking lightly between my legs and every sensation pooled there. “I think the phrase is supposed to be I'll be gentle, but I'd rather it was good and memorable for you rather than just gentle. I'm taking you to bed. Couch sex comes later.”

  He picks me up and carries me through to his bedroom and lays me on the white bed cover. It feels like hours ago I took fright at seeing his room.

  “Er, I might bleed,” I say, looking at the expanse of white around me.

  “It's only bedding. Don't worry about that. I have whole sets of sheets, somewhere. Probably all over the hall floor at the moment.” Ronan smiles at me.

  He undoes a couple of buttons on his shirt and pulls it over his head. Wow! I knew he had abs but he's amazing. I smile up at him. “It was about time you got naked.”

  “You like?”

  “I like.” I want to reach out and run my hands over the planes of his torso, but he's undoing his belt. He sits down on the side of the bed and pulls off his jeans and underwear in one go. His cock springs out from the confines of his pants, hard and impressive.

  “I have to get that inside me?” I blurt out without thinking, as he swivels around and starts ferreting about in the nightstand drawer.

  He pulls out a handful of condoms, looks around at my words and laughs. “Oh, Amy, I guarantee it will fit.”

  “I'm on the pill,” I say, nodding toward the condoms he's left by the side of the bed. “You might not need those if you're sure you're okay.”

  “Pretty sure. I've never had sex without them, not before or since my last check up.” He throws them back in the drawer. “A first for me too, then.” He smiles.

  I like I'm the first for him too, in a way.

  He pulls me under the covers with him and holds me as we lie side by side, his hands on my bare behind. His naked body feels amazing against mine between the cool sheets. I move my body against him, my breasts urgent for friction, my nipples pulled tight with need, my hips grinding against him I think he's taking it slow, being considerate, but I don't want slow. I want him now. His fingers reach between my legs.

  “Mmmh—you're already so wonderfully deliciously wet, Amy, so goddamned sexy. I'm trying to hold back.” He groans. “But I'm not sure I can. Not if you're ready.”

  “Don't,” I say. “Don't hold back. I want you now. I don't want to wait.”

  He rolls me over onto my back and I open my thighs so he rests between them. He holds himself at my opening, running the tip of himself over my slit, back and forth, until I'm moaning for him to enter me. He presses the head lightly against me and then he pushes in slowly. I feel a sharp pain and wince as the solid mass of him breaks through and he waits there for me to catch my breath. “Okay?” he asks, his mouth set with the effort of self control.

  “Yes,” I say. “I'm fine.”

  “You're so hot and wet and tight,” he says. “I'm sorry I hurt you.”

  “It's not hurting anymore,” I say.

  He smiles at me and looks me in the eye as he slides deep inside me with one slow controlled perfect movement, stretching and filling me completely, his cock massaging ever part of my inner channel.

  “Oh, that's so good,” I say.

  “You fucking said it. Are you ready for it to get a lot lot better?”

  I squeal in delight as he pulls out and plunges right back in, hard and deep.

  And then he takes me with long slow strokes, opening me wide around him, my thighs spread open, making sure I know he's inside me, looking into my eyes. “I love how you look when I push into you,” he says. “I love your grunts of pleasure, your little mewling sounds.”

  Why didn't I know it could feel this good?

  “You want it fast now?” he asks.

  I nod, hardly able to form words.

  He speeds up, filling me over and over, faster and faster with ecstatic abandon until I don't know who I am, where I am–I am nothing but pleasure, sensation, need building higher and higher with every rock-solid thrust until I buck violently against him and cry out, my limbs shaking, and I feel him release deep inside me as he growls out in pleasure at his own climax.

  CHAPTER 17

  Ronan

  It takes us a few minutes to get back to reality. Fuck! That was something else. The feel of flesh on flesh. Knowing I was fucking Amy and it was her first time.