Then I Wrote…

But he had a nagging doubt that her surrender was to her fantasies and her own sexual need, and not to him. He had to make sure that her surrender was to him, for him.

Thoughts of Amber intruded at inopportune moments, and he was finding it more and more difficult to banish them. Random thoughts would pop into his head in the middle of intense negotiations with foreign dignitaries — the image of her lying beneath him, her arms pinned beneath his, her legs spread wide and hips arched up to receive his fiercest thrusts. His loins would tighten, and the increased pressure in his groin made him grateful for the invention of conference tables.

The curve of a server’s buttocks at last night’s state dinner brough Amber to mind with such force, Ewan actually had missed a question raised by the prime minister. He’d had to ask him to repeat it. Not good, not good at all (nod to Jack Reacher).

Damn her anyway! As that thought flashed through him, he could hear her voice saying, “Am I really the problem, Ewan?” Good question.

Click here to read the whole story so far. Stay tuned for Neil’s response…..

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