Chapter 31

Arran showed up precisely on time with a bottle of wine in one hand and a take-out bag, filled with their aromatic dinner, in the other. He looked handsome, relaxed, happy, and Emma felt ashamed by her earlier ambivalence. He leaned in and kissed her, long enough to say ‘I missed you’, then pulled away with a cheeky grin.

“The restaurant was packed but they rushed my order after a generous tip...oh, and here’s your wine. It’s a 2016 Chateau Margaux. It pairs horribly with Indian food but it was expensive, as promised,” he clucked, placing the bottle in her hands. She looked down at the label, trying to place it. She was no wine expert.

“Arran, you didn’t have to spend a hundred dollars on a bottle of wine, I would have been happy with cardboardeaux,” she scolded gently, reaching out for the bag of food.

“Try a thousand dollars, Darling...”

Emma’s mouth dropped open, certain she heard him wrong. “You did not spend a thousand dollars on one bottle of wine...”

“Yes, so you better enjoy it,” he smirked.

“I’m not sure if you are trying to get a bigger bang for your buck but here’s a newsflash, I’m a sure thing,” she teased, tossing him a suggestive wink.

He grinned mischievously, wrapping his arms around her waist, her full hands making her helpless to his playful advances. At first she didn’t mind, but as he hungrily kissed her, his tongue probing between her lips, offering her just a little too much moisture, she felt derailed. It always threw her for a loop how inconsistent his kisses were, as though delivered by different men. Powerless to change his pace, she giggled into his open mouth and leaned her head back.

“Ok, mister, I’m starving. Let me get some plates and we can eat. How about you open the wine?” she suggested, casually squirming out of his grip. Oblivious, he let her go, smacking her ass as she turned around.

“Have I told you how much I adore your curvy bottom?” he growled, walking behind her into the kitchen.

“I do believe that’s the first time, but I will take the compliment,” Emma said, handing him a corkscrew. He took it from her and set to work opening the wine while she dished out the food. She had to admit, it did smell delicious.

“What’s cardboardeaux?” he asked, popping the cork loudly. Emma smiled, recalling the inside joke she shared with Luke. They would buy a box of wine and refer to it as cardboardeaux so it would sound classier than it actually was. Funny how friends collected silly quips and quirks, stories and little jokes that stood the test of time, repeating themselves again and again to fits of giggles and inevitable eye-rolls. She and Luke had many of them.

“It’s just a fancy way to refer to boxed-wine,” Emma explained, including him in on the joke.

“I don’t get it,” he shrugged, filling two glasses with the ‘fancy’ wine he brought, the real stuff. He handed her a glass.

“Cheers,” she saluted, taking a long sip. She rolled the liquid around her tongue, trying to discern the difference between a thousand dollar wine and whatever was on sale at the grocery store. Aside from the price tag, she wasn’t sure, but she enjoyed it nevertheless.

“Here, take my wine and I’ll bring the plates into the dining room,” he suggested, passing her his glass. She happily obliged, following him to the table.

“So what do you think of the lamb?” Arran asked her a few minutes into the meal. In spite of her apprehension, she actually enjoyed the sweet, rich, full flavor of her dish. She hated to admit it but she might have made a rash decision about Indian food. Just because she had a dish once that she didn’t enjoy didn’t mean the entire cuisine was unsavory. She took another bite, glad she gave it a second chance.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, taking a sip of wine. “I appreciate you trying it, that was very brave.”

Emma looked up from her plate, and realized he was teasing her.

“Oh, ok, smarty-pants, but might I remind you that you also turned your nose up at a few of my suggestions?” Emma rebutted, smirking impudently. “Next time it’s sushi for you.”

He regarded her curiously, then nodded without protest. “Fair enough,” he agreed, chuckling quietly under his breath. He smiled at her thoughtfully, his gorgeous blue eyes twinkling with humor. He could be irresistibly charming, she thought, taking a sip of her wine, and wondered dreamily how long they might linger over dinner.

“So I have news to share,” he offered, sitting back in his chair.

“Oh?”

“Yes, I have to jet overseas soon. I’m needed in Dubai and then I’ll be stopping in

London for a few weeks. I have business to attend to, but I also thought I would see some family. My daughter is graduating at months’ end,” he said, his shrug indicating how inconsequential he considered the news.

“You never mentioned you had a daughter,” Emma stammered, trying to hold back her surprise.

“Did I not? Yes, she lives with her mother. To be honest, I haven’t really had a hand in raising her, aside from the maintenance.”

“Maintenance?” Emma asked, questioning the reference.

“Yes, what you call child support here in America,” he explained casually, enjoying another bite of his spicy stew. Emma stared at him for a moment, trying to process the admission. She was obviously at an age where most of the men she dated were likely to have children but she had never considered, until that moment, what that meant or how it might affect her relationships.

“What’s her name,” she asked cautiously. “How old is she?”

“Her name is Abigail, but she goes by Abby. I think she just turned twenty-five. I am terrible with birthdays.”

“Wow, twenty-five,” Emma whispered, considering the very, very tiny age gap between herself and Abigail, otherwise known as Abby.

“Yes, I was just a kid myself when she was born. Her mother and I parted ways and then business exploded. I’m afraid I didn’t see much of the girl growing up. It would be safe to say she might have some hard feelings. I can’t blame her, really,” he admitted, his smile as faded as his memories.

“Sorry to hear that,” Emma offered, unsure how to respond.

“Anyway, I can’t go backward, now can I? What’s done is done,” he continued, deliberately lightening his tone. “But I really should see her while I’m in the country. I purchased her a Mercedes. I’m sure that will make her quite happy. It’s a sweet little car.”

“I’m sure it will,” Emma agreed reluctantly, certain that Abby would probably have preferred the lost years with her father over a well made German car, but who was she to judge.

“I want you to travel with me.”

Emma met his eyes, wondering if she’d heard him correctly. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Three weeks, tops,” Arran laughed, amused by her response.

“Um, you want me to go with you to Dubai? To London...and meet your family?” she stuttered, completely at a loss for words.

“Well, no, you don’t have to meet my family...unless you want to. I just think we can build on our relationship while we travel together. Three weeks is a long time to be apart when we’re just getting to know each other. Besides, I don’t want anyone else to snatch you up while I’m gone,” he admitted, trying to keep his tone playful. She sensed there was some truth behind his humor and wondered just who he thought would snatch her up. She wasn’t seeing anyone but him.

“I don’t know what to say,” she hesitated, unsure how she felt about his offer, “there are things to consider...there’s...”

“Luke?”

“I was going to say work,” Emma insisted, thrown off by his assumption. She hadn’t expected him to be so blunt but the truth was, she did need to run it by Luke. There was a lot happening at once and her instincts were not always the most reliable when it came to men, Arran included. Of course she needed to talk to him. She found it curious that even after their sexy night at the party he still seemed threatened by Luke.

“Sorry,” he blurted, lowering his eyes, “that was uncalled for.”

She nodded her head slowly, allowing his apology to sink in.

“Honestly, I’m an ass. Forgive me?” he croaked, looking up at her sheepishly, an impish smile decorating his face. She giggled softly, touched by his humility.

“Of course I forgive you,” she agreed, taking the hand he offered, “but I still have to think about this. I’d have to get approval from work. I don’t think I can afford to take off three weeks, even if my boss agrees. I have bills to pay. Christ, this bottle of wine could pay for most of my rent.”

“Sorry, I’ve been insensitive,” he muttered, caressing her fingertips.

“No, it’s ok, I didn’t mean to be curt. I simply don’t have the same resources as you, Arran,” she replied, tempering her tone. They sat in silence for a moment, neither looking at the other, quietly respecting each other’s space.

Finally, Emma spoke, breaking the silence, “Do you regret not being there, watching your daughter grow up?”

“Regrets? No,” he began, “her mother did a fine job raising her.”

“But what about you? Did you miss having a relationship with her?”

He thought about her question for a moment before answering. “When she was younger, maybe, but the sad truth is we barely know each other. The girl has her own

life.”

“I’m sorry, Arran,” she offered sincerely, swallowing another mouthful of wine. He nodded his head but quickly shook off any emotion he might have been feeling.

He looked up at her and grinned, “well, enough reminiscing,” he offered cheerfully. She sensed he was pushing his memories down. “I want you to join me. What can I do to make that happen?”

“I don’t know. Give me a few days to sort it out. I will let you know,” she insisted as kindly as she could. She was genuinely warmed by his offer, flattered that he wanted to her to travel with him.

“Of course,” he agreed flatly, as though wishing she’d given him a more definitive answer. “And don’t worry about money, I’ll take care of everything for you.”

“I understand, Arran, I’m just not sure I’m comfortable with that. I don’t want to feel like I owe you anything,” she said, treading lightly, “I hope that doesn’t sound rude.”

He smiled at her thoughtfully and nodded, “I’d never think that, quite the opposite, in fact, it makes me want you even more.”

They finished their dinner slowly, Arran talking comfortably about work, his passion for his business and future goals. He seemed content to keep the conversation light, neutral. She wondered when his questions for her would come and if she was ready to share the intimate details of her life with him, her marriage, and her painful divorce. She wasn’t sure how much she would divulge but either way, it seemed strange to her that he hadn’t brought it up yet. In fact, he asked her very little about herself.

“What do you say, my beauty, shall we go to bed?” Arran proposed, pushing himself away from the table. Emma smiled at him demurely, considering his request. She had been thinking about fucking him all week, her thoughts constantly drifting back to the last time they were together. She wanted more than anything to be with him again, this time without a blindfold.

“I think we should,” she purred, standing up slowly. “Give me a few minutes to put on that something pretty you asked me to wear.”

“Ah, I was wondering about that. Not that this pretty frock isn’t lovely but I was hoping for something a little more ravishing,” he winked, grabbing her hand as she walked by. He pulled her into his lap and kissed her, this time with much more control. She returned his kiss, enjoying the way his hand slowly crept up her thigh, lifting her dress to caress her bare flesh. She leaned against him and opened her legs, encouraging him to explore further, turned on by his appreciative moans.

“My, my, where are your panties, Miss Emma?” he smirked, his fingers gently caressing her swollen, pink folds.

“I seem to have forgotten them,” she teased, inhaling deeply, enjoying his delicate touch. He grinned at her, brows raised, signaling his approval.

“The only downside is that I won’t be able to rip them off of you,” he growled, plunging two long fingers into her dripping hole.

Emma pulled in her breath sharply, turned on by his assertiveness. He slid his fingers gently in and out of her, priming her pussy with his slow, sexy probing. She shifted herself to accept his full penetration, sliding her own shaking hand between her legs so she could stimulate herself at the same time. She felt her climax building, churning in her center, deliciously heating up her womb. With his free hand, he laced his fingers through her long red hair, gently pulling her head back to expose her neck, and kissed her, grazing her flesh with his teeth. She was close, so close, her orgasm only seconds from igniting in her core.

“Not here,” he groaned, abruptly pulling his fingers from her, “let’s go to your bedroom.”

She sensed her climax slip away, like fine sand through an open palm. She cried out softly, unable to mask her frustration. He smiled at her levelly, oblivious to her disappointment, and shifted her gently off his lap. “I almost forgot, I brought you gifts.”

“Sorry?” she asked standing up awkwardly, her body still disoriented from the abrupt denial.

“A gift. In the inside pocket of my jacket. Go fetch it, will you?”

Emma looked at him flatly, unimpressed by his choice of words. He chuckled at her, recognizing his tactlessness.

“Please?” he added, trying to brush it off with a smirk.

She raised her brows and grinned back at him, wordlessly expressing her objection. He confused her so much at times. While she appreciated a self-assured man, especially in bed, there was a fine line between confident and cocky. She needed to feel respected as an equal. She wondered if Arran understood that, if any man would.

“Darling, please,” he insisted gently, taking her hand in his, visibly controlling his patience. “I brought two things for you. I think you’ll like them.”

He squeezed her fingers gently, wordlessly apologizing, and smiled at her. Emma nodded, her face softening with her temper. She found his jacket on the back of the couch and reached into the pocket, pulling out a pair of fuzzy handcuffs. She chuckled and set them aside, returning to the pocket for the second item. She discovered a blue Tiffany box, wrapped tightly with a delicate silver ribbon. She held it in the palm of her hand for a moment, silently considering the significance of the gift. Arran eased up behind her and lifted the precious box from her hand, encouraging her to turn around.

“It’s a gesture of friendship, Emma. You look positively terrified,” he mused, unwrapping the ribbon. She grinned sheepishly when she realized how poorly she must have hid her thoughts. She quickly adjusted her expression and greeted him with a warmer smile.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, “you just surprised me.”

Arran removed the lid from the tiny box, presenting it to her. Inside was a pair of Tiffany platinum studs shaped like little apples, a ruby gem in the center of each one, surrounded by flawless diamonds. They were breathtaking and far too extravagant for a friendship gift. They must have cost him a small fortune. She knew she couldn’t keep them but like any woman, she was dazzled by their beauty.

“Arran, what did you do?” she scolded sweetly, trying to mask her enthusiasm.

“I saw them in the window and thought they would look enchanting on you. Try them on,” he urged, slipping them out of their box.

“They are beautiful, but it’s too much. I can’t accept them,” she insisted, determined to do the right thing.

“You can, I insist. Just be grateful I didn’t buy the matching necklace. Now that would have been too much,” he laughed, handing her the earrings. “Please, Emma, try them on.”

Emma regarded him curiously, wondering exactly what the gesture meant to him. They had only known each other a short time and while she was very fond of him, she still wasn’t sure what their future held, maybe friendship, maybe much more. All she knew was that she wanted to take things slow, have some fun, enjoy some adventures along the way. Was he wanting more?

She looked down at the precious little apples in her hand and sighed, tempted by their sparkle.

“Emma, if you don’t want to put them on then at least try on the handcuffs...” Arran teased, swaying the furry cuffs on his fingertips. She looked up and grinned wickedly at him, her mind quickly shifting to sexier thoughts. He took the earrings from her hands and placed them back in the box, sitting it on a nearby shelf.

“We’ll argue about these later, even though I’ll surely win, but for now, you promised to change into something vampy. I’ll follow you in shortly with these,” he insisted playfully, waving the cuffs in front of him.

“You got it,” she laughed, kissing him tenderly on the cheek. “And I appreciate your thoughtfulness, I do. Don’t think I’m ungrateful. It just might be too soon for such an expensive gift...”

“Emma, go...” he laughed, urging her down the hallway.

She changed quickly, choosing a red lace teddy with matching thigh-high stockings. It was completely transparent, erotically displaying her pussy through the thin fabric while accentuating her beautiful curves. She was certain Arran would approve. She took a few minutes to freshen up, then tied her hair in a loose knot on the top of her head.

She waited for him to join her and laid back into her pillows, anticipating the pleasure to come. She was ready to pick up where they left off. When a few more minutes passed and he had not come to her, she slipped off her bed, opening her bedroom door just a crack. She was just going to call out his name, invite him in, when she heard him talking on the phone. He sounded agitated. She listened in for another thirty seconds or so, picking up the gist of the conversation. She was certain it was business related.

“This is why I pay you the big bucks, so you will handle these issues as they arise...Well, how did it get to this point?... Why didn’t you anticipate this?...I knew that I should have handled this myself...”

Emma closed the door, unwilling to disturb his privacy any further. She sat down on the edge of her bed and waited, annoyed that her own phone was in the other room. She couldn’t help but think of Luke, wondering if he’d texted her. She was curious what he was doing, if he was out having a good time. For a second or two, she wished she was out with him, enjoying his easy company, relentlessly teasing each other and laughing at everything...and nothing. She even felt a little anxious that he might be with someone else.

She took a deep breath, silently berating herself for thinking about Luke, when Arran, a man who clearly liked her, was right in the other room. He deserved her focus, and she intended to give it to him as soon as he walked through her bedroom door.

What the heck was holding him up, she thought, walking back to the door. She opened it a crack and could hear him finishing his call. She quickly went back to the bed and sat down.

“Emma, I’m so sorry,” he apologized, slowly opening the door. His eyes widened when he saw her. “Crikey, you look bloody hot.”

She couldn’t stifle her giggle at his antiquated remark, his accent thicker than usual. He walked over to her and pushed her back into the bed, easily lifting her into position, then shifted himself on top of her. He kissed her passionately, his cock growing firm against her. Her own kisses matched his passion. She was so worked up she thought she would cum just from the friction of his cock pressing on her clit. His breath, hot in her ear, was almost unbearable and she pushed herself against him, silently begging him to fuck her.

“God, Emma, I have to go,” he whispered, raising himself to look at her. She tried to focus her eyes on his, to read his passion, and was surprised to see a look of defeat in his eyes.

“No, no you don’t, you need to fuck me,” she insisted, holding his ass tightly. He kissed her again, this time with less urgency, almost apologetically.

“I can’t,” he mumbled regretfully as he rolled off of her. “God, don’t be upset with me. I want to shag you, believe me. Fuck, I have to go.”

She sat up, her eyes searching his, wondering what she did wrong.

“What? Why?” she asked, watching him slide off the bed.

“I received a call, while I was waiting for you,” he confessed, looking her up and down.

“Jesus, that outfit is hot...it’s business....there’s a serious issue I have to address. My CFO is setting up a conference call to Dubai as we speak, I have to get back to the office.”

Emma looked at him crossly, wondering what could be so important that it couldn’t wait until morning. She didn’t want to be angry with him, but the truth was, her ego was a little bruised and she was frustrated as hell. Didn’t he want her too?

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t absolutely have to,” he insisted, leaning over to kiss her. She turned her head so his kiss landed on her cheek.

“Don’t be cross, I promise to make it up to you,” he scolded, raising her chin with his fingers. “Believe me, there is nothing I want more right now than to take you, right here and now, but it is vital that I be there. Ok?”

She inhaled slowly and in spite of her disappointment, nodded her consent.

“That’s a good girl. Now let me kiss you.”

She tilted her head and accepted his kiss, allowing her mood to lighten. He pulled away with a soft smile, holding her gaze until she was forced to smile back. She pouted playfully at him, yielding her indignation.

“If I can sort out the trouble in decent time, perhaps I can come back and we can pick up where we left off?” he suggested, brushing a stray hair out of her eyes.

“It’s ok, Arran. I think I’ll just take a bath and go to sleep,” she said quietly, then added with a smirk, “after I finish myself off of course.”

“Ah, well that’s a torturous thought. Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

“Yes, you deserve it,” she sassed, slapping him gently on the backside.

“Yes, I suppose I do. At least think of me while you climax,” he grinned, tossing her a playful wink.

“No promises.”