Driftwood Deeds Read Online Free

the table, smiled and sat down again. I took one conscious breath, trying to remember the last time I had spoken as much as a word. I managed a smile and reached for a cookie.
    “Thank you,” I said quietly. 
    “Paul,” he suggested and then his mouth curved into a crooked, attractive smile. “Or... Sir.”
    I was back to having trouble breathing with the sudden wash of pulsing need between my legs. My eyes went wide, and he reset his glasses, smiled pleasantly and reached for a digestive himself as though nothing of consequence had been said.

 
     
     
    IV
     
     
    “It’s okay, I’ve read your review of Secretary ,” he said after a while, and I looked up from my biscuit, revealing the blush that colored my cheeks as I made my lips curve into a vaguely mocking smile I didn’t really feel.
    “And you made choosing me sound like such a sophisticated research process...” I said, casting my eyes down as I managed a chuckle that picked up life when he joined in and his eyes sparkled with mirth.
    “Oh, it was. This was a bonus, just information to store away somewhere in the back of my mind.” 
    I bit my lower lip and our eyes met over our mugs of tea. 
    “It was very insightful,” he continued. “I liked how you expressed your disagreement about its placement under comedy.”
    His praise was like fire in my veins, too. I must have smiled and agreed and just like that, we talked about movies and I felt safe again because it was my chosen subject, something I could talk about at length without feeling inferior, younger or silly with those hot flashes reminiscent of my teenage years. And yet, at all times I was under the impression that he knew this very well and gave me a few minutes’ respite to gather myself quite deliberately. It felt natural at the time, but when I had finally relaxed and was speaking more animatedly, with my hands in the air, gesturing and laughing, we found our way back to Secretary and this time, it didn’t make me blush. He extolled the characters and their portrayal, and while I was still nodding in avid agreement, he tilted his head just an inch or so.
    “Did it make you curious when you watched it?” he asked and where repetition made the shock easier to bear, it still soared through me with unexpected force.
    I nodded, only once. Then quickly recovered. “I think... That’s the charm, it would make most people wonder, wouldn’t it?”
    “I’m not sure, actually,” Paul disagreed openly for the first time, his brow was wrinkled in thought before he smiled. “A lot of people think it’s comedy.”
    I had to laugh and his eyes shone. I don’t know how long we looked at each other like that but when I blinked, he raised his brows.
    “Come here,” he said in that quiet voice that carried easily and seemed to fill the entire room. It wasn’t a question and I didn’t answer. Drawn up by the force of his will, I got to my feet and walked almost numbly around the table. He had not moved and he only looked at me once, before he indicated the spot on the floor next to him. I felt my face pulsing heat into my cheeks, and my cunt contracted and swelled against the panel of my knickers.
    “You know what to do,” he said and I felt strangely humbled by his quiet and friendly confidence. It was this more than anything else that had me sink to my knees. Because it made him smile like that. He reached over and smoothed his hand over my cheek, freeing it from any stray strands; then his thumb found my lips and he traced them slowly, taking his time with his careful exploration. I couldn’t quite suppress the way my thighs trembled and my hands fidgeted in my lap, but he didn’t seem disturbed by it.
    “Tell me what made you most curious, Iris.” 
    I swallowed and thought about it, the images mixed with the warmth of his body right next to mine, the rough texture of his hands and fingers—worker’s hands even though he was a writer. 
    “I...” my voice failed me and I