Wednesday, 3 August 2011

The Stiletto Heel - Excerpt

He pulled up short in front of me, jerked out of his reverie, jerking me out of mine.
 ‘What the…?’ he said.
 I looked into his eyes and saw they blazed with anger.
 ‘What the hell are you doing, standing there in the dark?’ he said.
 ‘Oh do forgive me.’ My words were heavy with sarcasm. ‘I’m practising for a wet tee-shirt competition. How do you think I’ll do?’
 If the state of my nipples was anything to go by, I’d win it for sure. And from the way his gaze settled on my breasts, it was obvious he thought so too.
 ‘I just fancied getting as wet as possible tonight,’ I went on. ‘With any luck I’ll catch pneumonia and have to spend the rest of the month in bed.’
 ‘Are you crazy?’ he said, dragging his eyes away from my tits and looking at my face at last. He stared at me as if I was a mad woman. I began to feel that I was. Mad with cold. Mad with annoyance. Mad with desire.
 He wasn’t much taller than I was, but then I was wearing skyscraper heels. His face was feverish, despite the rain, his eyes flashing with irritation. I was sure that whatever he did, he would do with passion.
 ‘Of course I’m not crazy!’ I pointed to my trapped foot. ‘Can’t you see my heel is stuck in the grating? And these damned straps are impossible to undo from this angle.’
 His eyes followed my finger. ‘Oh.’
 Oh. That’s all he said. Oh.
 I tapped my uncaught foot impatiently. ‘Well, do you think you could help me get it out before I freeze to death? Or are you going to stand there staring at my feet all night?’
 First my breasts then my feet. What was he? Some kind of fetishist?
 He smiled then. Smiled and my heart flipped over. It’s not that he was handsome in any conventional way. His nose was a little larger than it should have been, his lips full and thick. And his eyelashes were far too long for a man.
 ‘Beautiful shoes,’ he said. ‘Where did you get them?’
 ‘Never mind my shopping habits,’ I snapped. ‘Just get my heel out of this drain, will you?’
 He considered me for a moment his lips pursed, then he smiled again and I melted inside. Crouching on the wet pavement he took hold of my ankle. His hands were cold and wet but they were certainly as firm as I’d fantasised.

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