I just can’t help myself sometimes, and in the end he just sat and watched me
Everybody’s Favorite Erotic Author….
It’s naughty Olivia here again with another one of my life story!
It started off well, and then we hit a bump in the road. He was coming over with my suggestion to have a drink with a girl he had never met before. Just the two of them alone at my villa in the South of France. If I wrote that line in one of my books what do you think would happen next? The guy is a trained soldier and always ready for action, and that was what I was hoping for.
If you remember from last week, my sister set me up with Hugo, the Army Major with the broken arm and ribs. I should have remembered those details, but instead, I focused on his smooth voice and could imagine my clothes being left strewn across the floor when he entered my home.
He was convalescing at a friend’s apartment and was said to be writing a book which was perfect because we’d have common ground. Before he had to return to duty, he was going to finish writing his book and would need help with the subject matter.
My sister wanted me to slow down a bit, and after I had thought about Hugo for a time, I agreed. He was going to be around for another 8 weeks (a long-term relationship given my latest track record), and with Valentine’s Day coming up, I could have Hugo all to myself. A boyfriend, imagine that?
He rang me, and I sensed he was in a rush too. I listened to his voice, it sounded like an audible version of chocolate. He was very polite, just like an army officer should be. He had holes in his story plot. I thought we could talk about all the holes he wanted. I daydreamed as I listened to him talk.
He asked for consideration of his proposal, and I countered it with a better offer, and before I knew it, he was at the door.
I only had just enough time to shower and change before he arrived. I was feeling good about this evening and felt it only polite to restrain myself until he made his move on me. As I opened the door, I knew I’d hit the F***ing jackpot. My sister had done me proud. His eyes gave away his thoughts too.
We sat on stools in my open-plan kitchen area, we drank good wine, and I served olives and crudité for us to nibble on. We talked about his book, and then he tried to find out more about what I did, and it was evident straight away that my sister hadn’t told him. In the past, I’ve had guys beg me for all sort of things when they found out I write books that contain a lot of sex. Hugo didn’t know, not yet anyway.
I kept batting the conversation back to him, he complimented me on my dress, it was short and showed off my legs. He only had to dip his head down a little and would see I had no panties on. I was trying to behave, but a woman has got do what she must to get what she wants these days.
Hugo said he heard something outside, and I explained it was probably one of my neighbors, but then I heard one of my garden pots break. Oh crap, I said.
What is it? He asked standing up and putting himself between me and the unknown pot breaker.
I moved from behind him and slid the terrace doors open, and there she was, Betty. Yes, I’m calling her Betty this week, which is not her real name. If I told you her real name she would hurt me, she could be a mean b*tch sometimes. My ex-girlfriend had called me earlier and left a message telling me Betty had just boarded a flight from Stockholm and now she was here already.
Hello Liv, can I come in? She asks me in her thick Swedish accent. She had lived in London on and off for over five years and still can’t say my name correctly without people laughing. Thankfully, Hugo wasn’t one of them. It was embarrassing most of the time, but Betty (I can’t believe I chose that name for her!) was drop dead gorgeous – tall, with blond hair and blue eyes. Every guy that met her literally said the word Wow. She only liked girls though and more to the point, me. We split a few years ago, when her parents, who are very well to do socialites in Sweden, insisted she move back to Stockholm. She expected me to go with her as we were (more or less) living together at the time. She wanted us to run away and get married. I had other ideas. Don’t get me wrong, we were in love, but I could never see myself being married and I liked guys too. In fact, I really like the guy who was standing in front of me at that very minute.
Betty still had an obsession with me, and I had agreed to take things as they came with her and share the odd moment together. I knew she was heading my way, but I hadn’t expected her to scale the high walls surrounding my villa, walls that had nasty sharp bits on top to deter people from entering.
I asked to look at her hands which were holding her backpack hanging behind her legs, she had some blood on her white jeans.
She dropped her bag and offered her palms, they too had blood all over them.
Oh my, Hugo said, let me look at them, I’m a doctor!
A doctor, I said, I thought you were an army major?
Yes, I’m that too, I’m a field surgeon. Come inside, and I’ll take a look at those cuts on your hand. My name is Hugo, he said, I’m Betty, she replied.
Have you got a first aid kit Liv, he asked? My heart leaped out of my chest as he said my name like that. My sister must have told him to, only my closest friends and family call me Liv.
He took charge and used the large first aid kit my father got me, it had all he needed to sort out Betty’s hands. I was dreading having to take her to the hospital. Even with his arm in a plaster cast, Hugo saved us from that and stitched a deep cut on her thumb and bandaged both her palms.
I told her to make herself at home and get cleaned up. Then I had to explain to Hugo what was going on. Betty had already told him about our relationship as I watched him treat her. He knew that I had been in love with a girl and that thirty minutes earlier I was flirting outrageously with him. The guy was owed some answers.
I filled him in with everything in my world. I told him what I wrote about, he didn’t seem to mind. I explained I liked men and women, not to impress him, but to open myself up to be understood. I then told him that if he wanted eight weeks to live and always remember, then he had a choice to make.
He listened mostly, then explained that his ribs still hurt, and he needed to be careful. I then made him an offer, come and share our bed tonight. His face changed three times in as many seconds, and I was little unsure of what he wanted. I did the only thing I could think of and took his hand, his good one, and lead him to the bedroom. Betty was already set up in her usual seductive pose waiting for me to find her. She sat up and went to say something as we entered the room. I told her to be quiet.
I got undressed in front of him and climbed into bed next to Betty, and he sat on the edge of the bed and watched.
I cannot tell you the continued details of my story here now, but I promise you that it will appear in one of my books real soon for you to enjoy.
Hopefully, you downloaded and enjoy my last two free offerings, Darker Shades of Scarlett and Scarlett’s Valentine. If not, you can still claim them free (see below).
Darker Shades of Scarlett
Click on the image to get your free copy
Click on the image to get your free copy
If you have not read the other books in the Scarlett series, you can also pick them up here by clicking on the images below…
I hope you’ve enjoyed my story about my little world!
Have a fabulous weekend my lovelies.
Loving you, Olivia, xoxo
Caring and Sharing.
P.S. Share with your friends if you dare!
If you think your friends would enjoy a touch of our communal spiciness, please share it with them on Facebook, Twitter or perhaps in person, or by email. Yes, by email, forward it now and shock your friends, and let them sit or lie back (maybe) and enjoy it too.