Free Martine The Beginning (Cruising to Love, The Prequel) by Edwina J White Page B

Lucas.  However, if you’re looking for a girlfriend, I have a couple of gorgeous single women I could introduce you to.  Belinda Boyle, who painted the Abstract in the window is beautiful, and Penelope Martin, the singer, just split with her boyfriend.  He was transferred to Australia…”
      “Penelope Martin?  Is she the blonde who sings with “Blue Boys”?
      “Yes, she is.”
      “I saw them about two weeks ago in concert.  The girl I took is a big fan.  Penelope was better than the band, I thought.  And she is a beauty.  I wouldn’t mind meeting her…”
      “Give me your card,” said Martine.  “I’ll set something up and give you a call…she needs a nice man in her life and you seem to be nice.”
      John Brown, the man from the Times , laughed. “But not nice enough to lure you away from your Lucas, Martine?”
      Martine smiled.  “Nobody could lure me away from my Lucas, John.  Nobody.”
      “He’s a very lucky man.”
      “I’m a very lucky girl.”
      John left presently, and Martine tidied the showroom, went into the back and brushed her hair and teeth, applied fresh lip gloss and blusher, put on her coat and emerald scarf, and waited for Lucas to come. 
      He was there just past seven. He had changed into jeans and a vee necked pullover.  Tight jeans that molded to his long legs and gorgeous bum.
      “Sorry, darling, I had a couple of phone calls to make.  Did the reporter stay long?”
      “Quite a while.  He said he would write a story about the Gallery, but didn’t say when it would be published.  And he said you are a very lucky man, to have me.  He thought you were my husband,” she smiled.
      “What did he say when you corrected him?”
      “Actually, I didn’t correct him.  I knew if I did, he would ask me out. I told him you are the only one for me, darling…in a roundabout way, and offered to introduce him to Penny.  He seems very nice.  And she needs to meet somebody new.  Somebody who isn’t a flakey musician.”
      “Does she go for flakey musicians?”
      “No.  In fact, her last boyfriend was a very conservative accountant who just got transferred to Australia. But flakey musicians are all that she seems to be meeting these days.”
      “Ah…so you think she might like this reporter?”
      “John.  His name is John Brown.  Yes, I think she might like him.  At least for a week or two…”
      Lucas set the alarm for her, and locked the door.  He held her hand tightly all the way into his flat.
      “You cleaned, darling, and changed the bed.  You didn’t have to do that.  And I love the flowers.  They look just right in here.”
      “My charge for all that is six kisses,” she teased him.
      “I’ll be happy to starting paying you back right now,” he smiled….and proceeded to give her six kisses in a row, leaving Martine quite breathless.
      “I’ve been thinking about kissing you all week, darling,” he told her.
      “Me too, Lucas.  I’ve been thinking about you kissing me all week, and touching me. And holding me close to you…”
      Lucas picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.  He stood her beside the bed and unzipped her mini, pulled it over her head, unclasped her bra, and cupped her breasts in his hands as he kissed her deeply.
      She responded passionately, her nipples crinkling at his touch.  Lucas dropped to his knees and undid her boots.  She sat on the side of the bed and he pulled them off, then her tights.
      Lucas stood and swung her legs so that she was in the middle of his bed.  He pulled his sweater off, and laid beside her, kissing her lips, her breasts, touching her everywhere, exploring every curve of her body.  She responded passionately to his kisses, his touch.  He rolled her onto her side, facing him, pulled her leg over him, so that all that was between her and his manhood was his jeans and her panties.  Her breasts were pressed against his bare chest.