VIII

Going through the whole contract - as Frédérique explained the different people and companies that would be involved, each paper he had to sign and what it meant (not to mention the deadlines schedule) - seemed endless. If they had been at the office she would have sent him over to the lawyers no doubt about it, but that’s the hand she was dealt and, as usual, she would play to win.

Half way through, though, Frédérique’s back was killing her from leaning over the low table so she decided to sit on the carpet, across the table facing the sofa. She was so concentrated on her task she forgot that it was maybe a little too…informal. It was a wool carpet and it felt soft and fluffy when she put her hand on it to stabilize herself when she sat down. She sat crosslegged Indian style, but extended her right leg under the table a little bit, but not completely so it remained flexed and relaxed and she could keep her back straight.

“Much better”, Frédérique said, and immediately continued explaining for some more minutes until she saw Richie stand up. She stopped talking and looked up at him.  

“Go on, go on”, Richie flapped his hand and went round the table to sit next to her on the floor. At first he kept one of his legs flexed against his chest, his arms wrapped around it, but then he got tired of this position and unconsciously placed his right arm on the floor behind Frédérique’s back, his thumb millimeters away from her ass. His left hand he left resting extended over his left knee while his extended right arm supported his upper body. This way Richie could see the papers over Frédérique’s shoulder.

He payed attention for a while until he was invaded by a kind of steam than seemed to be oozing from Frédérique like an intoxicating balm. He started to find it hard to concentrate, he could hear Frédérique talking but couldn’t follow her words. Is she speaking French again? His eyes traveled to her dark silky hair, then her neck, her back…the shape of her ass. He started to feel the tightness in his fly, but couldn’t help but keep inhaling her scent and indulging his eyes.

Frédérique felt Richie’s warmth against her back, his smell snaking through the air all the way into her nose and clouding her mind. Her face was burning hot, she would start sweating any minute now if she didn’t focus on the letters in front of her. She undid the buttons of her vest: she felt she was going to spontaneously combust.

Just as the light coming from the windows started to dim, she finished. Thank God.

“That’s all”, Frédérique said and quickly started pulling all the sheets back together and rearranging them. Richie didn’t move or said anything. Is he still alive? She felt his warm breath on her neck and the tickles it provoked. At least he’s breathing. But she didn’t dare look. That’s a lot of information to take in in just one afternoon, he must be bored to death.

Richie, instead, waited and followed each of her movements with his eyes. If he wasn’t careful he could really screw things up. Big time.

Frédérique put the bunch of papers back on the table and let her head hang down from her neck, touching her collarbone with her chin. She let the air from her lungs out in a long, deep blow. The heat and the exhaustion and Richie’s smell had conjured to make her feel numb. She closed her eyes and unconsciously pulled her head back up and looked up to face the ceiling while she put her hands on each side of her neck to massage it.

Richie felt Frédérique’s head lean on his shoulder, and a warm rush passed through his body when he saw her throat exposed in front of him, her eyes closed and her lips parted. She saw her take a deep breath and then started breathing out, but somewhere along the way it turned into a soft moan. What the hell.

…

As soon as Frédérique realized she was moaning she stopped and opened her eyes, only to see Richie’s face a fraction of a second before his warm, full lips crashed onto hers. She was so overwhelmed by the rush she felt that it took her a few moments to realize what was happening. She did nothing to resist: it felt too good.

After the first rush of the kiss had passed, Richie realized that Frédérique was motionless, - Oops – but he pressed a bit more to have one last taste of her lips before starting to remove them. Just as he was about to do so, instead, he felt her hand on the back of his head and her mouth suck his lower lip. She pulled him closer.

Richie cupped Frédérique’s face with his left hand and pulled her even closer to deepen the kiss, her lips offered no resistance when he pressed his tongue against them to open her mouth. When her tongue met his, Richie felt Frédérique’s fingernails scrapping his scalp.  It feels so good it oughtta be illegal. He moaned.

The sun had set and the only lights on were a pair of foot lamps against the windows behind the sofa.

Richie’s hands then traveled down to the collar of  Frédérique’s shirt and slid under just on top of her breasts, he stopped when she started twisting her torso to face him. He pulled her into his arms and her arms circled his neck while his hands were scattered all over her back.  One hand then traveled down to cup and then squeeze her ass.

Frédérique moaned and Richie started trailing kisses down her neck. He pushed the collar of the shirt to one side using his nose, burying his face deep into her collarbone and sniffing deep as if wanting to extract all the essence from her. “God baby, you smell so damn good”, he whispered. A wave of pleasure ran through Frédérique’s body and she found herself reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it up.

As soon as Richie felt Frédérique struggling to take his shirt off, the bulge on his crotch became so tight it hurt. He finished taking the shirt off himself and started kissing her voraciously as he lay her down on the carpet. Her fingernails were now scrapping the skin over his ribs: it felt silky and just a little sticky.

Frédérique suddenly broke the kiss and pushed Richie away pressing both her hands open on his chest. Shit – Richie thought. He sat back on his heels and waited, breathing heavily, already with a glow of perspiration on his skin.

She looked at him with a serious expression, which in a matter of seconds turned into a smirk. “OK, if you’re not going to do it… - said Frédérique in a low, husky voice – I’ll have to do it myself”. And started undoing the buttons of her shirt.

Richie didn’t react until he saw her white laced bra appear when she opened the buttons over her breasts. He jumped back on her, attacked her mouth and roughly finished taking her shirt and vest off. She had already kicked off her shoes using her toes. She felt the token that was hanging from his neck sink into the skin between her breasts. “Ow” she managed to say against his lips. Richie pulled away: “Wha…” but Frédérique was already taking the chain off over his head.

After that was done Richie started undoing Frédérique’s bra while she went straight to his fly and started tugging at the button: in a matter of seconds his jeans were unzipped and her hands were squeezing his ass.

Richie concentrated on kissing, biting, sucking and licking her breasts, but slowed down when he started to feel his orgasm building. He stopped, rested his face on Frédérique’s chest and heard her heart racing. He was trying to catch his breath.

“What is it?”, Frédérique looked down at Richie and buried her fingers in his already damp hair.

“It’s just…Fred…- Richie tried to sort out what he was feeling -…you are… - then chuckled when he couldn’t find the words, she really made him feel… - …something else”. He looked up to meet her eyes.

He found a serious look on her face, but just by looking into her eyes he already knew what she was about to say before she even opened her mouth: “Take me, Richie”.

Richie crawled up back on top of Frédérique like a lizard and let his face hover just above hers. A drop of sweat fell from his forehead next to her lip and she licked it with her tongue, then brushed her upper lip with it. He swallowed hard. When he kissed her he could taste the saltiness of his own sweat on her lips.

Richie hastily stood, pulled Frédérique until she was plastered to him and then placed a hand on each of her butt cheeks. He lifted her up and she put her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. Before he started walking down the corridor, he looked at her and grinned:

“Let’s get crackin’ then: it’s a long way to the bed”