Fit For Purpose by Julian Parrott (novels for students .TXT) 📕

Tom thought for a moment.

“I like to think that our lives are now,” he said. “And they’re whatever we make them.”

She tilted her head back and laughed a full-throated laugh.

“No,” she said. “I actually meant, where do we,” she made a gesture circling them both, “Go on from this restaurant.” Their eyes locked.

Nia knew her eyes glistered with desire and she hoped he could translate.

“Is there a decent hotel nearby?” Tom asked quickly. He had decided that he would be a hostage to his past no longer.

“Yes,” Nia said with a smile. “There’s a rather smashing little boutique place just around the corner.”

***

The hotel was off a quiet Georgian square. It was well-appointed and discreet. Tom checked them in, and Nia kept her head down and turned away from the small, CC camera above the reception desk. The concierge and the night porter exchanged knowing looks. Tom was given a room on the third floor and he and Nia held hands without speaking as they took the lift up. Tom opened the room’s door with the key card and held the door open for Nia. She moved into the room but turned to Tom and kissed him. She shut her eyes, felt the warmth of his lips, responding, felt his lips part. Tom put his hand gently on Nia’s lower back and pulled her even closer. He felt her tongue tease against his lips, touching his tongue and sending an electric sensation through his entire body.

Tom pushed the door shut with his foot and together they moved like tango dancers towards the bed. They both collapsed on the mattress still deep in the embrace of the kiss. They finally broke to throw off their heavy winter coats. She kissed him quickly and then got off the bed.

“Let me freshen up,” she said. Nia swayed her hips provocatively as she went to the bathroom.

Tom took off his shoes, suit jacket, and tie. He turned a bedside light on and turned the bright, overhead light off. A police siren wailed somewhere in the middle distance

In the bathroom Nia stripped down to her underwear, a black matching bra and panties. Not lingerie but appropriate and sexy. She had showered at the theatre and had chosen her underwear with care, she had thought, just in case. She breathed into her hand, Thai food and wine. Not great, but not terrible. She washed hands and face and brushed her teeth with a finger. She ran her hands through her hair and noticed her cheeks were flushed pink with desire. She stepped back and quickly observed herself in the mirror. The Pilates and cardio-boxing were paying off. For a forty-four-year-old, not a bad bod she thought.

She turned out the light and opened the door. Only a bedside light was on. Tom lay on the bed in shirt and trousers. She tried to stand naturally but coquettishly leaning against the bathroom door frame. His eyes grew large as he watched her. She had an hourglass figure, he noticed, with full curves beneath matching, sexy underwear. He could tell that she had done some gym time. He slipped off the bed and quickly unbuttoned his shirt, the cuff got caught around his wrist, and he yanked it off sending the button flying, he then took off his trousers and socks. He stood there in his pants, erection obvious. He smiled embarrassingly. Nice body Nia thought; natural, nicely muscled, fit, decent chest hair, quirky tattoo on left shoulder. Quite nice really. Then she saw the scars, not so much scars but a wholesale mangling of his right leg. She moved towards him, she knelt unselfconsciously in front of his right leg and ran her fingers over the angry scars.

“Oh my God, Tom,” she said. She looked up into his face.

He reached down and held her face and she stood up. Their eyes locked followed by their lips again. They fell onto the bed. Hands pulled, tugged, and unlatched underwear as they tumbled into each other. They made love with a joyous abandon.

After it was over, they lay side by side holding hands. Nia asked him about his leg wound. They moved together and both faced each other. He reached out to her face and gently moved a lock of hair from over her left eye.

“Helicopter crash,” he told her. “Quite a bad one. Some time ago now. Looks worse than it is.”

She sensed there was a lot more but now wasn’t the time to ask. She reached down and ran her fingers over the raised welts and knotted skin from his knee to his thigh. She lingered over his upper thigh. Felt him harden again. She threw back the sheets, pushed him onto his back, and straddled him. He entered her and she gasped a little.

“Let me do the heavy lifting this time,” she said.

Tom woke early. He watched her sleep. He knew that he had never felt anything like this before. He had almost only just met her. He already loved the tilt of her nose, the lift of her breasts as she breathed, the sleeping pout of her lips, her hair, her smell. Nia stirred and opened her eyes. She saw him and smiled. She felt a warm sensation in her core.

“Coffee?” he asked. She nodded. Tom got out of bed, slipped on his underwear, and moved to the room’s Nespresso machine and turned it on. His back was to her.

Nia observed him as he ran the machine, “That’s a really nice arse,” she thought. The scars on the back of his right leg coiled around this thigh like a snake. They looked as if they still hurt. He passed the first cup of coffee to her and made a second. He moved the curtain aside slightly and was surprised to see that the grey old city was adorned