Requested by @ealasaid as a sequel to:
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The last week had been absolute torture. After your admissions on the phone to Richard about not being happy in your current relationship, the whole atmosphere with him had changed drastically. He had admitted being in love with you, and now you had to wait for him to come home. Richard was currently in the States filming, and was only a week away from finishing up his current project.
Your phone rang. It was Richard. “Hey, you,” you said, grinning from ear to ear like the Cheshire Cat.
“I can’t stand this anymore,” he said, his voice low and full of frustration, but with a slight hint of lust, which caused a shudder of anticipation to rack up your spine. You lay on your bed and closed your eyes, still grinning to yourself.
On the night that you had told Richard that you reciprocated in his feelings towards you, you had called your boyfriend, breaking up with him straight away. And since then he had been trying to contact you to get an answer, but you could not being yourself to give the real reason as to why you had walked away from the relationship.
“Only two more days, Rich,” you told him, biting your lip as you awaited his response.
“Two days of complete damn torture,” he replied. “Hearing your voice is unbearable. It was always difficult for me, but now that we’re together, I just need to be with you. To kiss you for the first time…”
As he trailed off, you instinctively knew where his thoughts were heading. And you couldn’t deny the fact that your thoughts had delved in that direction many times when concerned with Richard. Heat was stretching down from your stomach, winding its way towards the juncture between your thighs. Richard had always been a gentleman, only ever delving into sexual conversation when you had instigated it; he would never just dive into it himself. And that was one thing about him you adored. He was a gentleman through and through.
You could feel yourself beginning to drift off as the hour struck two am, hours after you first accepting the call. “It’s late for you, angel. I’ll let you go. Get some sleep and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“I love you, Rich. Keep safe.”
“And I love you, angel. I’m waiting for you.”
It was finally the day that you were to meet Richard and spend time with him; he had now finished his shoot back in America and was heading to England to see you. He had called through a week earlier, booking a hotel for you both in London. The whole day seemed to be seeping past you so slowly, a minute becoming an hour. The train journey was long, hot and frustrating. There was a screaming baby in the seat behind you, meaning that you couldn’t even concentrate on your music. Richard couldn’t text you as he was flying at around 30,000 feet above the Atlantic, coming in on a United Airlines flight. So boredom set in fairly quickly.
By the time you had made it into London, having taken the Underground to the hotel, you were beat. The hot, summer air was humid. You felt sticky and tired as you checked in the hotel.
For a short while you unpacked a few of your belongings for your week stay in London. Your phone remained on the bedside table, waiting for Richard’s call to say he had landed and you could meet him at the Underground train station. The hotel he had booked was very luxurious with a mini bar, ornate decorations on the walls, and large, beautiful lamps on each of the bedside tables. Richard had even mentioned you possibly going back to his New York apartment once you had spent a week in London.
Your phone finally rang an hour later, just as you had finished showering and got re-dressed.
“I’ve just landed, and I’m coming through the airport. I’ll be at the station in about half an hour. I cannot wait to see you, my angel,” he told you.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” you told him. “I love you.”
You dragged your shoes on, grinning to yourself and raced out of the door, almost forgetting your key card in your dash. And the whole time to the station you kept smiling, chuckling to yourself. But at the same time you were nervous, your hands shaking and your heart racing.
You waited at the station patiently, breathing in and out slowly, concentrating on your inhales and exhales, trying to keep calm. People were rushing around in all directions, trailing luggage behind them, the warm air circulating and causing you to sweat again.
Until you finally saw him.
You stood up tall, pressed on your tiptoes so he could see you. And then he noticed you. He grinned, breaking into a laugh. That face always made you weak at the knees.
“Angel,” he cried out, coming towards you.
And in those moments, neither of you cared who was watching. Richard dropped the handle of his suitcase, not bothered in the slightest as it tipped onto the floor. And he rushed at you, his lips seeking yours.
You could feel his hands cupping your face and you heard a groan escape his lips. “You’re finally mine,” he whispered, breaking from the kiss just long enough to look upon you and know that none of this was a dream.