“Hi,” he said, with a slow and curling smile shifting automatically and effortlessly from his sullen mood of a second ago into confident pick-up mode.
The girl returned a sparkling smile of her own, her blush wine lips mesmerizing with their smoothness, fullness, and shine. He almost didn't hear her when she said hello back to him; it had been too long since he'd kissed lips that fine, or felt them rolling over his cock.
He pulled a deep breath through his nostrils, silently willing himself to slow down; it wouldn't do anything for his first impression if he popped a stiffy at her after just saying hello. That was strictly pimply-faced, squeaky-voiced teenager shit; Ross Finch was far more suave than that.
Introductions first, then; after that, they could move on to the more interesting stuff. “I'm Ross,” he said, extending one hand to her.
She took it and squeezed at his fingers. Her hands were soft, but her grip was strong, though not in a forceful way, like she was grateful for the offer, and probably the attention, too.
Fuck, this was going to be easy!
“Amber,” she told him, her smile softening. He liked that look of her, too: still eager and interested but somehow gentler, now.
“I haven't seen you around before,” he said, and, in an effort to look nonchalant, he relaxed his stance, leaning back on one elbow against the rise of the table. “You visiting someone?”
She shook her head, and he noticed of a sudden that she had subtle curls in her flaxen hair, like the glassy waves that rolled in at low tide when there was no wind. “Just moved here,” she said. “From London.”
“London,” he echoed with mild interest. So, no naïve bumpkin, then, to be beguiled simply by a devilish smile and a cocksure swagger. That was fine, though; he appreciated a bit of a challenge.
“Welcome to Harbram, then,” he said, and he smiled again, half-teasing but mostly charming. “I'd hazard to say that it's a far more enchanting place with you here, now.”
She blinked her eyes – they were a strange shade of almost brown but not quite, little leaf-green flecks scattered among the maple whole, like leaves too stubborn to vacate the branch after a frost – as though surprised. But then she grinned, dropping her gaze and her chin toward the floor as a delightful pink blush flushed her cheeks.
“I'll bet you say that to all the new girls,” she said as she raised her eyes to him again; he was pleased to see that he hadn't been imagining those dappled green specks.
“Only the pretty ones,” he admitted truthfully, and then he shrugged his shoulders, unconcerned. She'd likely heard just as silly lines in London, probably more.
She didn't walk away, though, and she didn't stop smiling. In fact, she took a step toward him, her arm touching the edge of the table. “You think I'm pretty,” she said; it didn't sound like a question.
Ross snickered; this girl was brassy, too. Nice.
7249 / 50000 words. 14% done!
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