Sunday, 8 March 2015

His every fantasy unveiled

Things are getting interesting now in The Prelude to Attraction. Last week, Tom had just caught sight of Kate Ramsey, and he was having trouble tempering his reaction. This week is no better. She's still up on stage at a conference, telling the world about her cell biology experiments — and he's in the audience, lapping it all up.

Don't forget that you can skip forward a few months and read all about Kate and Tom in The Science of Attraction.

And again, a word of warning: this excerpt contains some pretty graphic ideas about what Tom would like to be doing to our fair heroine. Close the tab now if you'd rather not partake of some racy Texan brainwaves…

The Prelude to Attraction (Part 5)

The next twenty minutes slide by in a kind of blur. There’s a near-constant British soundtrack to the whole thing, but it may as well be a montage as far as I’m concerned. The only thing I can concentrate on is the sway of her hips as she moves around the stage, the twitch of tricep when she points to one of her slides. I’m intoxicated by the gleam in her eyes, the way the corners of her lips pull up right before she nears a punch line. At one point, she fumbles an explanation, and throws her head forward as she laughs it off. I am fucking lost—seriously in need of some kind of help.
And then I sink deeper into the insta-crush. Way deeper. I imagine walking down the aisle and pulling myself up on stage. I see her expression change as I move toward her—startled at first, and then patently aroused. In my mind, I pull her to me and claim her mouth in a hot, wet kiss that has her gasping. Then I twist her around and push her up against the podium. She tugs her dress up while I unbutton my jeans, and then I’m hard against her, under her, in her—my hands reaching up to cup her tits as she gropes for my hips.
Her mic is still on and she’s moaning into it as I take her from behind, with breathy little whimpers that drive me wild. I step back and pull her hips with me. Her back arches as she drops down, still holding onto the sides of the podium, and I go deeper, harder, pulling up her up and onto me.
It’s a little too pornographic though, and seems off somehow, so I switch again and imagine myself kneeling in front of her as she gets on with her presentation. She knows I’m there, and wants it as much as I do. She steps her legs apart and I take that as my cue to lift her dress up and tug her panties down. I cup her ass with my hands and pull her into me, nuzzling into her for a moment before darting my tongue out to meet her arousal.
And of course she’s a pro, so she barely misses a beat in her presentation. She simply steadies herself by resting a hand on my head and rocking her hips against me. But then I start to feel her swell against my tongue, and her breathing becomes more labored, her rhythm a little sluggish. Her hips move faster, more urgently. And soon her fingers are knitted through my hair, both hands tugging me closer as she moves against me and finds her release all over my face.
I come to with a sick sense of sleaziness. This woman is obviously incredible, and all I can think about is how I can get up her skirt. Not cool.
Except that the energy that radiates out of her is so blatantly sexual, it’s hard to ignore. Yes, she’s all business, and it’s clear that she’s earned her stripes. But her excitement has a rawness to it—an edge—and I’m completely fucking captivated by it. I’m fairly sure that she’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
I let my mind wander again, and imagine her finishing her talk, and answering all the questions that will undoubtedly follow it. I imagine her stepping down off the stage, seeking me out in the crowd, and walking over to where I’m sitting.
In my fantasy, she fixes me with a stare, says, “Did you like that?” and then pivots around to place herself squarely in my lap. And I am not about to waste any time with that. My hands start near her knees and move north, sliding her dress over her thighs as she rolls her hips and grinds against me.
“I could see the way you were looking at me,” she whispers as she leans back and turns her head to kiss me. “It was such a turn on, I just couldn’t wait to get off that stage.”
I lift her ass off me for a second, work my dick out of jeans and guide her back onto it. Because it’s a fantasy, right? And these things happen seamlessly in fantasyland. She’s wet as fuck and it’s so hot. I’m astounded by my ability to conjure this shit up, and I wonder for a moment whether she’d actually be that wet in real life. Something tells me she would be.
I shift again in my seat and force myself to focus on her talk.

Jump to Part 6