Free Wait for Me by Sara Tessa Page A

smile.
    â€œYou’re a tough one, Sophie!”
    I chuckled at the compliment.
    â€œLike a stone,” I muttered with satisfaction, and leaned against the railing in front of him. The comment, somehow, had put me at ease. It seemed like I was finally getting through to him.
    â€œI’d say you’re more like an egg,” he said, breaking the silence. “You have a tough shell but you’re soft on the inside.”
    My smile faded. “Soft on the inside?” I asked, appalled. “An egg?”
    â€œSophie,” he said, taking a step towards me, with an ardent smile and unmistakable body language. “Sophie, I really like you,” he said, a little too close now.
    â€œAdam, I think I’ve made myself pretty clear,” I said, sliding away from the sexual tension that seemed to radiate from his body.
    â€œSophie,” he said again.
    â€œPlease,” I begged, looking down at the floor. “Don’t be so persistent.”
    â€œYou didn’t ask me about my resolution because you already knew the answer… Sophie.” I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, afraid that I would give in. It was enough to keep myself standing. What would happen? How long before he showed his true self? What lay beyond this charming seduction? A single mantra reverberated through my mind: I will get hurt, I will get hurt, I will get hurt… and the disappointment will endure. But from the moment his car pulled up, I knew how that night would end. The ninety-nine per cent of me that was screaming ‘no’ was powerless before the remaining one per cent. And so it had always been. There is nothing more deadly than desire. His pull was stronger than anything I had felt before and resistance was futile. The wall kept me on my feet. I was trembling now.
    There was no hesitation: “I look at your lips and all I want to do is taste them.” His hand slides onto my hip. I hold it at bay to stop it from slinking around my waist.
    â€œAdam, I can’t do this.”
    He swiftly took my hand around his waist, binding me to him.
    â€œTell me why not. I don’t know what’s happened to you in the past, but I want to understand.” He was inches from my face, enveloping me with desire.
    â€œPlease, Sophie, give in,” he muttered, lightly brushing my cheek. “You won’t get hurt.” He was almost on my lips now. “After all, it’s New Year,” he added, with an elevating smile. That was the moment – I buckled.
    In the next instant, his arms were clasped around me and his tongue was in my mouth. I sank into the whirlpool, clutching his body – out of instinct, out of necessity. Weightlessly, he carried me to my room. He tore off my clothes, kissing everything that he uncovered and nourishing the flame within. I needed him inside me. I began to unfasten the buttons of his shirt, he slid out of it, followed by the remainder of his clothes. As he unveiled his body, I longed for him to touch me again, but I started to see a montage of images: images of him with different women. I stiffened up and recoiled, blocking the trickle of his fingers against my bare skin. As though he were reading my thoughts, he leant down and held my face in his hands.
    â€œI always take precautions,” he said, holding a condom between his fingers. “I have regular tests and the women I see are carefully selected, with valid medical certificates.”
    The passion withered and reality resumed.
    â€œMaybe it’s best—” I muttered, reaching for my t-shirt.
    â€œNo, no, no.” He started kissing me gently, caressing my face, my neck, my shoulders. His lips fluttered over my skin. “I swear, I’m clean,” he said, pressing his forehead against mine, gasping for breath.
    â€œSophie, I want you so badly.”
    All of my uncertainty disappeared as his fingers drifted lower. Before I knew it, I was in the raptures of