Coffee & Poetry

"Turn to page 44."

It was the man with the captivating hands.

Ella gaped up at him for far too long before snapping her lips shut. Poetry was such a gift to her, exquisite and sacred, that she didn't know how to share it with this man. An utter stranger.

Up close she pegged him as a natural, pampered northerner: that suit had to have been expensive and those hands were too perfect. What in heaven's name did he do with them? Uninvited images promptly filled her mind: the contrast of his faint tan against her chocolate skin; his fingers pinching her dark nipples; his hard –

"Hi," he smiled.

There was something almost arrogant in the curve of his lips and a commanding glint in his grey eyes that made her realise how stupid she must look. She was bemused by the predator he clearly was. No matter how much she willed herself to be 'normal', she simply couldn't think of anything to say to him. Oh, how she longed for Cassie's poise and confidence right then!

Her eyes lowered to the book in her hands.

"Page 44," he repeated. "I'm a massive cummings fan and have this specific book."

"I don't know you." Way to go, Einstein.

"I'd like to know you."

She lifted an eyebrow at his reply. Was this how it was done nowadays? Did sexy white men with black hair and grey – were there flecks of blue in there? – eyes just memorise entire volumes of poetry then walk up to gauche misfits and win their hearts with romantic intelligence?

Ella pressed the book to her chest. Partly to still the thud of her heart, but also because she felt her nipples tighten and didn't want him to see them.

"I'm sorry for bothering you, but I just had to say hello. My name's Rylan Kade."

Her big brown eyes held his for a heartbeat longer then flicked to his outstretched hand. She watched hers rise to meet his and the sparks that crackled between their palms made her thighs spasm slightly. She wished her legs were together so she could squeeze to ease the lava rising in her core. How witless and embarrassing to be turned on by a stranger who wanted only to share a love of poetry.

"I'm Ella."

She hadn't let go yet, but noted with some comfort that neither had he. Their contrasting skin tones made something tingle along the back of her neck.

"So, you're a romantic, Ella?"

He phrased it like a question but she didn't feel that it was one.

He didn't wait for her to answer. "I am. Probably not your conventional sort, though... but I do love to bring a beautiful woman flowers and woo her with poetry perfectly suited to her... after spanking her 'til my name is all she speaks and making love to her 'til she can't stand up straight."

Ella pulled her hand free. "Excuse me?"

"That came out too... raw." His eyes were unapologetic, though. "I meant no offense – I did, however, mean every word."

She would have practise caution around this man who held no interest in hiding the dangerous glimmer in his eyes.

"Then you should probably find yourself some girl, a brat in need of some spanking."

He grinned, unfazed. "I prefer women. I find a woman who knows herself – as you do – irresistible.

"You don't know me." She snapped the book shut and rose to her feet.

She'd always considered herself quite tall, but standing before Rylan Kade still made her feel delicate. If she rose onto her toes... and he bowed his head her way just right... she'd be able to meet his lips with hers. Just. His shoulders were broad and his chest clearly defined within his designer shirt. His blue-flecked diamond eyes invited her to come closer and nuzzle into that chest.

What the hell was going on?

"There is lot about you I don't know," he conceded, "but I saw enough outside the store to know you intrigue me."

"So, this is a game of yours? Picking up women in Sandton?"

The blue in his eyes lightened. "Never actually."

She didn't know how, but she believed him. He wouldn't need to do this, chase random women in bookstores. So, was his focus on her, his interest, true as well?

There was something urgent in him calling out to her. When he took a step forward, so did she. Her breath stilled the instant his scent wrapped around her. He smelled so good the need to taste him hummed through her.

They weren't touching yet Ella felt like she'd never experienced a connection like this before.

Rylan's head lowered further and more than anything she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted what she felt to be real, to unfold and grow. Wanted his hands to grip her hips and for him to slam into her, turn her inside-out and make her scream. All the things she wanted from this man with his piercing eyes rushed through her... her desires frightened her.

She had far too much to lose to a man like this.

"Look, I don't know what the heck you think this is, Rylan," Her whisper was hoarse, but she forced the words out anyway, "but I'm not keen on being picked up by a fetish-crazed wolf in a in a posh suit."

She delivered the line with adequate decorum then turned and left him standing there.

Rylan followed her without a second thought.

Ella. Her name encompassed a vulnerable and sensuality that suited her. He didn't really know what he was doing or what he was after. He just knew that there was a fire in his chest and a hunger in his groin that were driving him insane. Whatever those half-understood questions were that were shooting through him, the answer was Ella.

She moved swiftly, but with a hypnotic sway to her hips that made him realise all women should be her understudies.

Where the bookstore ended, the chatter-filled coffee corner began. Most patrons sat at tables showing each other their literary finds. Unoccupied double-seater leather couches were set up near the far wall, facing different directions and interspersed with side tables and magazine racks. The smell of roasted beans tripped and tumbled over the deeper hunger that had him watching the young lady with the luxuriant hair.

She wove a path between the tall tables and stools then proceeded to a couch removed from the rest of the crowd. It was far enough for no one to see her unless someone was specifically looking for her.

Rylan watched her sit down, slip a pump off and tuck that foot beneath her.

Why the fuck was even that such a turn-on?

He'd been around women who wore skimpy outfits and bought attention with their flesh. Women who figured out what the men they desired preferred to hear; then hid their strengths, giggled and said only that. Hell, he'd even had a few employees greet him varying in states of nudity in his office.

Diane wasn't like any of those. He truly believed Diane to be an intelligent and self-sufficient woman. It's just that she lost most of that around him. She didn't flaunt herself, but then again she didn't trust who she was enough to know that that was enough either.

Ella was the opposite. She didn't know how to be anything but herself, even when convinced she didn't fit in. Something in that boy had recognised the same and Rylan didn't like that. The thought of how many men must fall in love with her each day made his jaw clench.

How long before she fell for one of them?

He most likely wasn't what she wanted... but he couldn't just walk away either, not from a beauty who slipped a shoe off to sit like that... and filled him while having completely forgotten about him already.

The boy again.

There were two employees in the coffee corner, taking orders and serving hot brews. This kid must've been purposely watching out for Ella so he could leave the books and be the one to serve her. Rylan glare narrowed in on him.

Ella looked up from her book and smiled at him. Again.

Rylan rolled his shoulders. What was this – jealousy? Couldn't be.

He didn't know her and wouldn't be seeing her again after today. And she was closer in age to the boy anyway; they'd have more in common. Like being single – which he wasn't.

He ran a hand down his face then ruffled his hair. But didn't leave.

Ella's laugh spurred him into action. He approached the two of them smoothly. Ella was facing away from him and didn't register him nearing, but the kid did and his shy smile diminished a little.

Rylan sat down right behind Ella, his leg just barely brushing against the curve of her derriere. She turned and recognised him with more surprise and less joy than he would have liked. Then something else entered her gaze, something that made him wish they were alone. What he wouldn't give to see that heat in her eyes with her lying naked in his white sheets with her hair all over the place.

He pulled back fractionally. What? You keep women out of your bed, that's your thing. Since when do you fantasise about one you know nothing about waking up in it... and looking at you like that?

Only you.

"Rylan."

For a second time he noted that she'd gotten his name right. And that her huskiness made him want to make her say it like that again and again.

"Ella," he drew back a smidge more and smiled. "Can I buy you something to drink?"

He was pretty sure she was unaware of leaning a fraction closer each time he drew back. He'd come on far too strongly earlier and didn't want to mess this – whatever this intoxication was – up. He wanted her to want him as much as he did her; he wanted her to come to him willingly, as hot for him as he was for her.

She took her time weighing up her decision, more self-assured now than at their initial meeting.

Then she turned back to the freckled boy. "I'll have a chai tea, thanks."

"Just an espresso for me, no sugar." He didn't look up as he said it.

Ella gazed back over her shoulder at Rylan. Her shoulder was lifted slightly, her lips nearly touching it. Something playful and curious danced in her eyes framed by her severely rectangular glasses and the soft mass of rich, black hair. He could get over the flow of her lines.

He reached out and slowly grabbed a handful of hair, lifting it to reveal her delicate neck again then dropping it. Her exhalation was long and heavy.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I work nearby."

"You know what I mean."

He liked that she could put him on the spot like that, challenge him. Fuck knew how he was supposed to answer that, but he did like her directness.

"I don't know. I just saw you and wanted to be near you."

She laughed. "Yeah, right."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Her laugh was as beautiful as the rest of her, but it was marred by the cynicism in her eyes.

"This is no romantic comedy, Rylan," her tone was reasonable and composed. "And even if it were, I'm not exactly the sort of woman who gets the lead role."

He put his hand on her bare foot that peeked out at him. Her skin was so warm and smooth. Again the drawn out exhalation as she eased into the backrest.

With the flat of his palm resting along the bridge of her foot, he rubbed in miniscule circles. She bit her lip and dropped her gaze. Rylan leaned in and lifted her hair again. Behind him, the rest of the coffee shop was unaware of his raging hard on fighting to break free and his intense desire to lick the full lip Ella was biting.

He ran his thumb over her ankle and, with his touch, told her all the things he desperately wanted to do to her. With her.

He leaned closer still until his lips were right by her ear. "So, have you read page 44 yet?"

The line of her neck. The dip of her jaw. The way the softness of her temple called for a kiss. He couldn't understand why she'd laughed at being considered any man's leading lady. She was that to him - already. Fuck. She was also all he'd never even known he needed in an erotic fantasy – and so much more.

He was starting to worry about how much more.

"I'd just started the poem a few minutes ago." She had her finger holding a place in the book she'd brought with her.

"Then let's finish it... together."

Calling that tall man a fetish-crazed stranger had been a little disingenuous. Ella knew it but would probably never admit that.

She'd never had a man speak to her like that before, painting such raw images in her mind. Without even knowing her. How could he claim to want her like that when he clearly had eyes, could see what she looked like? And didn't look like... More than that, what was this effect he had on her? His voice alone, deep and smooth, had been enough to send waves of yearning rolling through her.

On the couch in the coffee corner, she'd snuggled into the leather... and then turned to page 44.

may i feel said he
(i'll squeal said she
just once said he)
it's fun said she

(may i touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she

(let's go said he
not too far said she
what's too far said he
where you are said she)

may i stay said he
(which way said she
like this said he
if you kiss said she

"Would you like a coffee or something?"

Ella gasped at the interruption.

The poem... She snapped the book shut guiltily and looked up at the boy from before. Her thighs squeezed together as she tried to remember what he had said.

"Uh... pardon?"

He smiled into her gaze. "You came over to the coffee shop – I thought you might like something to drink."

She laughed. "Yeah, I guess that's logical."

"I'll get you a menu then."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," she shook her head. "Just tell me what's popular."

"Okay, well, our cappuccino range is very popular. So, are the spicy and herbal teas like..."

She noticed his gaze jump from her to something behind her but she just figured something in the busy book area had distracted him. Then his smile faded and she wondered at that – until she felt the couch dip behind her and a masculine scent teased her senses.

She peeked over her shoulder knowing very well whom she would find. "Rylan."

Ordering her tea and laughing at his flirtation – was it flirtation? – was harder than she made it look. Men didn't usually come on this strongly around her. Especially men who looked like this. She was suspicious of his motives and didn't hide her scepticism.

When he touched her Ella knew she was lost. He couldn't keep getting close like that, making her melt so effortlessly, without her breaking soon.

When he leaned in and whispered in her ear, Ella decided she was done cowering and running. An attractive man was (most certainly now) flirting with her. His reasons for doing so were irrelevant. The ruling inevitabilities were that nothing would happen in a crowded bookshop; and that they would never see each again.

So, why not have fun and bask in her soul-deep fervour?

"I'd just started the poem a few minutes ago," she told him.

His palm brushed up the length of her thigh; she felt her muscles loosen. Then, at the crook of her elbow which rested at her hip, he changed direction and ran it down the slope of her forearm until it met both of hers on her book.

"Then let's finish it... together."

She held his searing gaze for an extra heartbeat before opening the book. The words danced before her, sensuous and now dizzying. She couldn't be sure she understood what she was reading.

"Out loud, beautiful." His lips were at her ear again, his chest solid and strong behind her.

Ella cleared her throat.

"may i stay said he
(which way said she
like this said he
if you kiss said she"

Rylan's lips touched her then. He'd lifted her hair again and, as she read, put his lips to the milk chocolate softness just behind her ear. Ella's voice shook slightly.

"may i move said he
is it love said she)
if you're willing said he..."

His hand moved to her knee and she gasped, turning her face to his instinctively. Her ragged breaths landed on his lips as he moved his hand higher, suavely tucking it into the heat between her thighs. Squeezing, stimulating more wetness without yet having touched her there.

"Read," his order cut through her sweet gasps.

When she turned back to her book, he returned his lips to her skin. Her neck this time.

"(but you're killing said she..."

That was all she managed before her next moan was drawn out. His hand was at the top of her thigh, his breath hot on her neck.

"but it's life said he," he quoted without looking at the pages.

He was teasing her, squeezing and rubbing her thighs but avoiding her helplessly engorged clit.

"Read," he insisted; this time with a bite.

A small cry escaped her, flung his way when she reflexively turned to him again. She quickly faced the shimmering pages again.

"but your wife said she
now said he)"

His teeth again. Oh, heavens...

"ow said she

(tiptop said he
don't stop said she"

Her voice, like her mind, was no longer hers. The words flowed and toppled, often interrupted by her need to breathe.

"oh no said he
go slow said she

(cccome said he
ummm said she"

His hand finally touched her. He cupped her hot sex, pressed into her, rubbed two firm fingers along the sides of her clit. Ella bit her lip right on her next cry. There is no way she could manage the last lines.

"you're divine! said he," Rylan's deep timbre coaxed her on.

Her head fell back, her neck vulnerable and exposed. She rested against his chest, her eyes closed now. He watched her heartbeat pulsing away near the top of her throat; then looked down at the swell of her breasts inside her wrapped top.

Ella's lips were millimetres from his as she whispered the last line. "(you are Mine said she)"

He had to have her.

"Give me your number."

The shake of her head was barely noticeable. "No."

His hand tightened on her again. "Why not?"

"I told you," her gaze met his from beneath heavy lids. "None of this is real."

He crushed his lips to hers then, the fullness and the sweet taste of her making him groan.

He was hungry for her, but he was also angry. It frustrated him that she laughed at herself and believed so strongly that they stood no chance. Or was her amusement directed at his efforts? Did she want nothing to do with him past this encounter?

He poured his fire and need into the kiss, made her feel what he wanted the whole tower to know. That no man could want her as much as he did right then. His fingers tightened in her hair as their tongues met; his other hand rubbing her faster.

More than anything, he was mad at himself for needing her like this and not knowing how to stop his feelings. It pissed him off that he so strongly craved someone who laughed at the idea of them having anything together, despite the way he had her melting in his arms. That no one else he'd ever been with could compare to her.

This had to mean something to her as well. It had to.

She gasped again, turning more towards him and lifting a hand to his shadowed jaw. Her legs spread a little further apart, her hips gyrating to his rhythm. Rylan moved when she moved, shifting to keep her shielded from the rest of the shop behind him. She was all his and he couldn't stand the thought of anyone seeing her like this. Not this side of her that was just for him.

"One chai tea and one espress– oh, shit. Er..."

Ella pulled back with a look of horror, her fists bunched on Rylan's shirt. He removed his hand from between her legs and pulled her to him, protectively tucking her face to his chest.

The red-haired boy, of course. The only person with any reason to come to this far corner of the coffee shop. Rylan wanted to grab him by his shirt and throw him back in the busier part of the coffee shop – or into his next lifetime. He held himself in check, though, watching the kid's hands tremble as he placed their order on the low coffee table before them.