Spontaneous – Book One in The Suited To You Trilogy
An incredible night left Tara with The Suit’s phone number.
But who exactly is he…Tara’s desire for another encounter with the anonymous, mysterious and devastatingly sexy Suit compels Tara to dial the number. As The Suit leads her into increasingly exposed and exhilarating situations, Tara finds herself in deep pleasure. She may let him control her body, but can anyone control her emotions?
The torn fragment of peach-coloured paper poked out of my diary, compelling me towards it yet again. My pencil tapped distractedly on the desk.
‘I wish you’d bloody stop that.’
‘What?’ I glanced up. Polly was frowning at me over her monitor.
‘That. Tapping. Does my head in.’
‘Sorry.’ I sucked in a breath, tearing my attention away from the scrap of the Financial Times.
‘What’s the matter with you, Tara? You feeling all right?’
‘I just …’
‘Haven’t had a decent shag recently? I know the feeling. Not like you, though. You’re never exactly short of offers.’ She grinned across slyly, her dark eyes sparkling. Polly knew to a large extent of my varied and active sex life, but for once her compliment made me a little queasy. Since the incredible night on the Tube two weeks before, I hadn’t been with anyone – a record.
I’d replayed the journey in my mind every day and night since. Five men and me, shut in a train carriage for several hours with the sole intention of fucking each other’s brains out, witnessed by passing passengers and ourselves.
I wasn’t supposed to see any of them again. That was the deal. That was the intention. But he’d left his number. He’d written it on the newspaper he’d left behind. He was the one I’d most wanted from the first lurch along the tracks, and he was the one I now could not get out of my head.
The Suit. Immaculately attired, distinguished: an elegant, inscrutable mystery.
I took out the little piece of newspaper and stared at his words again.
You are perfection. Call me.
My eyes lingered on the number he’d written underneath.
I’d almost dialled it that same night. I’d almost dialled it the next morning. I’d come so incredibly close to dialling it every single minute of every day since. But I hadn’t. Why not? I was a busy, working girl. I had no need for commitment at this stage in my life. I craved new sexual encounters and experience; I’d proved that to myself time and time again. But The Suit exerted an influence which almost unnerved me. God, I wanted him again, but his sexual aura and potency evoked in me a feeling akin to inadequacy. Was I actually worthy of this man, who loomed so large in my erotic imagination?
‘Earth calling Tara. You’re at it again. Away with the fucking fairies,’ Polly sighed.
‘Sorry. Late night.’ I shook myself out of it and tried to focus on the email dancing across the screen.
‘Thought not. You need to be done good and hard, my lovely. Let’s go out tonight and find you someone.’
‘No, Pols, really …’ It was hopeless. ‘You know what? I’m going to call it a day. I’m really not feeling too great.’
‘Oh Tara,’ she sighed, frowning sympathetically. ‘Time of the month?’
‘Might as well be,’ I mumbled, standing up.
‘Take it easy, babe. Hope you’re better tomorrow. I’ll let Sarah know you’re feeling rough.’
I smiled meekly, affecting my infirmity, and, gathering my things, left work.