I was leaning over the table when he entered the cafe, rummaging through my bag for a file. I glanced up as he walked in, and noticed that he had paused just inside the doorway. The sunlight reflected off his purposely mussed grey hair, and his stubble gave him an intentionally rugged look. And then I noticed that the neck of my shirt was gaping open as I leaned low to reach in my bag; his eyes were trained on my pale breasts encased in black lace, exposed to his view.
I looked at him over the top of my glasses. He was standing still, his lips ever so slightly parted as he blatantly stared at my breasts. It occurred to me that I should be offended by his stare, but instead I was instantly aroused. Finally coming to my senses, I stood up straight and he snapped out of his stupor.
A blush rose under his dark skin as his eyes moved to mine. His smile caught me off guard; I had expected him to be embarrassed about getting caught checking out a stranger in a coffee shop.
I returned the smile without thinking. He looked to be nearly 20 years my senior, but he was handsome and something about him was downright sexy. His attention, and obvious appreciation, was flattering.
He walked to the counter to place his order, and I sat down to continue working. I thought it would end there, an insignificant encounter. My attention returned to the work spread out on the cafe table, until he sat down at the table next to me, facing my way. He placed his laptop on the table, but his eyes were on me.
Feeling his gaze, I looked over. He commented how the weather was finally warming up after a long winter. Just like that, the ice was broken. Work and laptops were neglected as we sipped coffee and chatted like we'd known each other for years.
I couldn't help but notice the way his gaze wandered to my cleavage. He seemed nice, respectful despite his hungry gaze. I guess that's why I smiled and flirted, casually leaning forward to let him see further down my shirt.
It grew dark outside, and he mentioned that perhaps it was time to go. I agreed that I had been there long enough. We stood and packed our bags, my skirt riding high on my thighs as I leaned to put away my files. He waited as I shrugged into my suit jacket, the black pinstripes framing my breasts against the light blue shirt. We walked towards the exit and he opened the door for me, placing his hand on the small of my back as I walked past him. It was our first physical contact and the possessive nature of it made me flush.
Our cars were both parked in the same corner of the lot, and we walked together, neither of us commenting on how odd it was that two strangers might be so friendly.
Unlocking my car, I tossed my bag onto the passenger seat. I wasn't quite sure how to proceed. It had been ages since I felt such a strong attraction to someone, and never to someone I had just met. Would he ask for my number? If he did, should I give it to him, a total stranger?
He was standing close to my car, close to me, when I turned back towards him. He wasn't a particularly big man, but his presence was commanding. I estimated him to be about 5'9", wearing dark jeans and a black sweater that showed off a lean physique. I couldn't quite place his age. I would guess perhaps he was in his late 40s, his face youthful but lined around his eyes. His grey hair stood in stark contrast to his brown skin.
He asked me if I had to hurry home to a boyfriend. Smiling, I said, "No. Is your girlfriend or wife waiting for you?"
He raised his left hand, showing me the lack of a ring on his finger. "No, no girlfriend and no wife."
I gazed up at him. He was still about 6" taller than me despite my 3" heels. He took a step closer to me and I resisted the urge to back away. The look in his eyes was predatory. I was suddenly reminded of a big cat, stalking its prey.
I saw his eyes glance downward and I realized that, once again, he had a view down my shirt. I took a deep breath, and his eyes widened as my breasts heaved. The sexual tension was palpable. It was exciting, scary, the intensity foreign. My mind told me to run, that this man was trouble. But the rest of me, the part so tired of maintaining a professional facade, ached to see what would happen next.
He leaned even closer as the wind blew around us. I shivered and he reached out to me, tucking my long blonde hair behind my ear. His eyes flicked between my eyes and my mouth. I instinctively licked my lips. He hesitated. I froze, with my blue eyes looking up at him, barely breathing.
"How old are you?"
His question caught me by surprise. Smiling, I responded, "A lady does not tell her age."
He laughed. "I'm 48. Tell me I'm not a dirty old man for standing here talking to you. Tell me I'm not old enough to be your father."
48... 16 years older than me. "I can't tell you that, but you'd have been a young dad."
He smiled, shaking his head, looking away. I could feel his indecision. Faced with the thought that he might not pursue me, I realized how very badly I wanted this older man. Emboldened, I reached for him, my hand clutching the black cashmere as I pulled his attention back to me. He felt warm and I leaned closer as he turned to me. His hand went to the back of my head, guiding me closer, before his lips met mine.
Afterwards, I would realize that this is what people mean by chemistry. At the time, my mind was blank. My lips parted to his tongue, my heart pounding. The cold of my car against my back barely registered as his warmth pressed against me. My eyes opened as I felt him harden against my hip.
His warm brown eyes were staring into mine. Before I could think, he had maneuvered me away from the car door, opening it. I looked down into the backseat, my mind still fuzzy.
"Get in." It wasn't a request. I realized I should object at being ordered about, but instead I silently slid inside.
He sat next to me, the two of us suddenly cocooned in the relative privacy of my car, darkness surrounding us in the rear corner of the parking lot. I felt like a teenager again, but then those boys were nowhere near as exciting as this man.
