Susan didn't have much to wear that would be appropriate for going out alone, let alone going out escorted by one of the richest men in the country. She settled on something she thought would be suitable and slipped into her highest heels, waiting on her porch for him to pull up. When she got into his car, he looked her over, smiled and reached around her to unpin her hair so that it fell in waves around her shoulders. Then he unfastened the top button of her blouse and nodded approvingly. Susan was holding her breath, relishing the feeling of his skin on her chest. She wondered if she was blushing, if he could tell how attracted she was to him. She thought maybe he could because he stared at her quizzically for a moment before pulling out of her driveway.
"I suppose you've no idea where we should go," he said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.
"No, I don't," she said shyly, her hands clasped in her lap.
"Do you ever get out?"
She looked at him coyly, smiling. "My boss keeps me pretty busy, wears me out."
"Oh, I haven't even begun to wear you out."
That stilled her tongue. If he meant anything by it, he didn't stop to let it sink in. He kept talking, pulling up to a bar and handing his keys to the valet to park as he guided her inside with his hand on the small of her back. He chose a table and slid across from her, staring at her face until they ordered.
"I've known you for three years, now," he said, sipping his drink. "And I know nothing about you. Tell me."
Susan took a drink of her wine, holding it in her mouth to savor its bold sweetness on her tongue.
"What do you want to know?"
"If you don't go out, you don't live with anyone, what do you do when you're not at work?"
"I sleep," she said, shrugging. "I read."
"And you don't get bored?" he asked, the tip of his finger tracing a circle around the rim of his glass. His eyes were intent on her face and he was leaning forward, every bit of his attention focused on her. She felt exposed and yet thrilled by his interest. Susan had never thought herself a particularly fascinating person, but his eyes made her feel that way, and so she took another drink.
"I get bored, but I'm shy, and I'm not sure how to do anything else."
"Shy," he said. "I see that. You're shy with me and I see you every day."
She didn't say anything, only swished the dregs of her wine in the bottom of her glass until Tyson waved a server over and had him bring the bottle.
"Do I make you uncomfortable?"
"Not necessarily," she told him slowly. The wine was already getting to her, making her head light and bubbly. She never drank, not even on special occasions, but he was so convincing and she was enjoying herself immensely.
"Not necessarily?"
"You do make me feel particularly shy," she said, speaking without thinking. His eyes sparkled in the light and he gave her a half smile, raising his eyebrows.
"Why is that, Susie?"
"You're so handsome." She reached forward to stroke the back of his fingers. Even as she did it, she knew she would regret it, but the wine made her bold and his eyes made her hot and it was a terribly seductive combination. "And charming and powerful. I don't know how to act around you."
He took her hand and held it between his, his eyes grazing over her face, lingering on the spot he had revealed when he'd unbuttoned her shirt.
"You shouldn't have told me that," he said. She blushed then, looking away from him.
"I'm sorry."
"No, no," he said, his eyes lighting upon hers once more, burning her with their intensity. "But now that I know my attention might be well-received, I'm not sure I'll be able to help myself."
"Help yourself?"
He brought her hand to his lips and brushed the knuckles lightly across them.
"I can't tell you how long I've wanted to see you let your hair down," he said, reaching forward and fingering a strand of it. "And wondered if you'd let me."
Susan pulled it to one side, draping it over her shoulder. His eyes were bright with drink, studying her face, and his hand was frozen in the air as if he wanted to touch her. She felt shy again, very shy, and when she looked down at her hands he did touch her, tilting her face to look at him.
"Tonight, you're going to relax," he said, grinning. "And have another drink. I want to know everything there is to know about you."
So she talked, relaxing with every sip of wine every time he laughed or smiled at her. She told him where she'd grown up and what her favorite books were. When the topic
came up about past relationships, she blushed a deep red and shook her head.
"I've never..." she said, "that is, I've never met anybody I wanted to."
"Never?"
"No."
"Mm," he said, steepling his hands beneath his chin. "Would you like to?"
She looked at him for a moment before nodding. He wasted no time in paying the bill, then led Susan out to the car and opened the door for her. When they were at her house, she let him in, shut the door behind him and sat perched on the edge of her couch. Her head was swimming with tipsy lust, her body feeling somehow swollen and light at the same time. Tyson knelt down in front of her and wrapped a lock of hair around his finger before bringing his face close and brushing his lips over hers. The feeling was electric. It made her body sing, made her wrap her arms around his neck to hold him close. Her mouth responded to his intuitively when he kissed her, sucking on her bottom lip, then the top, then slipping his tongue into her mouth to tease and toy with her own.
"Bedroom?" he asked huskily when he'd moved his lips to her throat. All she could do was point and he lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist, and carried her into the small room. He laid her on the bed and began to undress her, unbuttoning her shirt with slow, sure fingers and unclasping her bra in the front to free her breasts. Susan gasped when he touched her there, when he leaned down to pull each nipple between his lips and suck them until they were hard and aching. While he did this, his hands worked to unfasten her skirt and pull it down around her ankles and off until she lay in front of him in only her plain white cotton panties. His palm traced a line down her stomach and stopped at her panty line so abruptly she moaned.
Tyson lowered his face to kiss her then, climbing on top of her. She wanted to feel his skin against hers. She wanted to feel every part of him. While she unbuttoned his shirt, he pulled her thighs apart and traced his fingertips up and down, teasing her so that she was pushing her hips up to grind against his.
The skin of his chest was warm and smooth and felt so decadent against her, felt better than anything she'd ever really experienced. He tasted good, too, like cinnamon gum and amber liquor, and she couldn't get enough of his tongue.
When he took her panties off, she caught his eye, her body feverish.
"What is it?" he asked, looking over her face.
"Is it going to hurt?"
He groaned then, burying his face in her neck.
"Susie, I can't do this right now," he said, crawling off of her, standing up and looking down over her body.
"Why not?" she asked, propping herself up on her elbows. "What's wrong?"
"I will hurt you if we do this right now. I'm not used to being gentle."
"I don't care," she breathed, lifting her head to capture his lips between her own. "Please."
He took her wrists and laid her down, kissing her once more, then groaned as he set to dressing himself.
"I want you sober," he told her. "And unafraid. I want to see that you're completely comfortable with me before we do this."
She nodded. She supposed she understood. How would he feel if she showed up to work tomorrow shy and regretful, with her hair tied up tight and her proper shoes as if nothing had happened? She would prove to him that she was ready.
"Good night, Susie," he said, kissing her forehead, then her lips. "I'll see you in the morning."