3

Lydia Alison

She was going away with him.

Lydia hardly knew herself. A one-night stand?

And what was more, she'd just been through a serious relationship. That was who she was— the girl who had serious relationships.

And where had that got her?

Dumped, and humiliated because for some inexplicable reason, Pete just hadn't felt she was good enough to make a commitment to.

And that was totally rubbish.

Maybe she was not one of the girls who walked around campus, who had lots of friends and huge trust funds, but she did have a few things going for her.

And Henry could tell that. He treated her like she was worth something.

Lydia knew that for an extremely long period of time, Pete had made her feel like she wasn't worth anything. She'd just been so caught up in their picture of 'forever' that she hadn't even known how he'd started to ignore her, and how he'd started to treat her like she was a maybe to him, when he'd been a definitely to her for so long.

Henry looked at her as if she was the sole female in the entire world. Although only for this evening, the manner in which he behaved made her feel better.

They drove with the windows open. He edged his hand up along her leg and intertwined his fingers with hers. It was warm, yet sweet, as well. Everything that he did, every little thing, was perfect.

His vehicle was nice. Expensive, but not ostentatious. Lydia liked that about him—he was obviously further up on the economic hierarchy, and he had at least a couple of doors already ahead of him in life. But he didn't let her think it made him. He didn't flaunt it or make her feel like he was only using it to sleep with her.

And that made her want to crawl into bed with him all the more.

However, Henry was a stranger. And Lydia did not go home with strangers. She had always had the notion that going home with strangers meant trouble. But remembering Pete, she knew that even though she had thought that she knew him all this while, it so happened that she had not really known him that well. She would have never guessed that he would go and abandon something they had worked on for so long…

For no reason whatsoever.

And Henry… there was something about him that made him feel like he wasn't a stranger at all. When they talked, it was like he knew her. And Lydia hadn't had that with anyone.

Not with Pete, and not with any of the men she'd dated before him.

Not even with her girlfriends, if she was being truthful. Not like this.

Lydia had just always figured it was because she was an artist. A little weird like everyone else. She had never thought that someone would actually understand her.

But Henry did.

And Lydia was not about to let him go.

So when he had asked her to come home with him, the only answer that had made sense was 'yes.'

They arrived at his apartment and he opened the door and invited her in ahead of him.

"Oh," Lydia said when he turned on the lights and she looked around. "This apartment doesn't look at all like my student apartment."

Her flat was a bit dingy, with water-spotted ceiling, an oven that she had to wedge open with a broomstick, and a door that she had to apply body weight to get open or shut if she wanted in or out.

Henry's apartment was nicely decorated with smooth modern designer furniture, and it smelled of fresh, manly cleanliness.

Henry was chuckling as Lydia stared at the apartment.

"It's not much, but it's home."

"Are you kidding me?" Lydia said. "If that's your idea of 'not much,' I don't want to see what the rest of your life will be like when you're some zany business mogul."

Lydia shrugged off her coat and Henry took it from her. A real gentleman.

He laughed. "You think he's going to be a business mogul?"

"Oh, yes," Lydia said.

He certainly looked the part. She was pretty sure he would be drop-dead gorgeous in a designer suit.

He was already jump-his-bones hot.

All he needed was to take that commanding air a step further and he was going to be everything.

He cupped her cheek, his face close to hers.

“You’re staring,” he mumbled, his lips so close to hers Lydia could barely concentrate on the words he was speaking.

“You’re distracting,” Lydia said.

She sounded like a fool. But he chuckled, and his voice was thick and smooth and it caressed her skin like honey.

When he kissed her, it was just as intense as it had been at the café when he'd kissed her, but this time it was different. There was so much more passion that lay behind it. So much more desire. He crushed the length of his body against hers, and she could feel the shape in his pants, testament to his growing desire for her.

And God, Lydia wanted him. He was nice and handsome and confident—exactly the sort of man she never expected to fall for. And, as a bonus, he wanted her too.

Lydia felt it all the way down to his boxers, where his dick strained against his pants to find her.

It was a blaze igniting her body as he thrashed against her. Her gut knotted. Lydia was wet for him.

God, so wet.

Henry ended the kiss and gazed at her.

"Can he get you something to drink?" he asked.

Was he kidding? Lydia didn't need anything to drink. Or eat. Or anything that wasn't him naked and on top of her.

Lydia flushed with herself for remembering such things about a total stranger.

But then again, he didn't quite feel like one to her either.

Lydia shook her head and kissed him, running her hands across his chest.

He laughed into her mouth and pulled her against him. His hands moved onto her ass, and he lifted her off the floor. Lydia yelped. He scooped her up like she was lighter than air, and when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, she felt the muscles harden as he bore the weight. Lydia wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her into the bedroom. His tongue was in her mouth again and Lydia moaned softly, dimly sensing the apartment through the fog of lust as he urged her into the bedroom.

He didn't bother to flip on the lights—the bedroom was filled with light from seeping from the other rooms—and he shoved her onto the bed. Lydia laughed for no reason afterward. She was intoxicated with lust. He smiled at her.

He was on her in a second, kissing her, his fingers probing her body, caressing her, tracing the contours of her with his fingers.

He pulled up her shirt, exposing her bra, and bent his head to her chest. He kissed down the length of her bra cup, leaving a path of flames down the soft flesh of her breasts.

Lydia drew her top over her head, and strained back when Henry tried to come around her. He unbuckled her bra and drew it away from her, and Lydia stood before him, topless.

For a moment, Lydia was shy. No matter how immediately close she felt to him, he was still unknown to her. And she was suddenly as good as naked. His eyes slid over her breasts and then back to her face.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said.

Lydia blushed and he leaned forward to kiss her. He took hold of her left breast, his fingers firm and confident, and had a very clear idea of what he desired. Lydia moaned as he manipulated her breast, his fingers finding her rigid nipple, and rolled it with his thumb and forefinger.

Lydia gasped and moaned, his sensitivity to her breast causing shudders through her pussy, making her even more moist.

Henry bent his head, breaking the kiss, and his lips captured her right nipple. He drew it into his mouth and Lydia gasped as he sucked and tongued her, holding her between his hand on one and his mouth on the other.

For a second, all Lydia could do was get lost in the sensation of Henry loving her body. He made her feel incredible. And they hadn't even reached the below-the-belt boundary yet—Henry was still wearing pants and Lydia was still wearing hers.

As if he knew Lydia had been thinking about it, Henry started making a journey down her body, kissing his way along her belly. His fingers moved quickly to unbutton her jeans, and he slowly pushed them down her legs, unwrapping her like a gift. Slowly. Sensually, mouth-wateringly.

His fingers seared against the flesh of her skin when he took off her jeans and mapped his hands down her legs. He opened her thighs and blew hot breath across her.