Okay. This is my first fanfic...I wrote it because of my unconditional love of Mr Darcy & Colin Firth. Its an M, because I think it is going to get quite rude later on…I would really love it if you read & reviewed, that way, if it is rubbish I know not to continue. So, constructive comments please. Thanks & here goes…
First times for everything.
Diary.
Had big fight with Mark. Sort of threw him out…regretting it immensely now. Cannot even remember what fight was about!
...Not strictly true…I said some stupid things. I want to know why he is holding out on me. Have been together for a two weeks, i.e. 4 dates, 5 lunches, 12 texts, 2 phone calls & 9 mind blowing kisses. But still nothing more, have invited him up for coffee 7 times, and each time he declines.
Why? Does Mr Fancy have a deep dark secret? Is he under endowed? I doubt it. He's not into kinky stuff is he? Maybe he doesn't find me attractive? But he said 'just the way I am'. Surely he hasn't changed his mind? Hope not. Maybe he has to wait, until one night he is so drunk he can manage to do me without throwing up.
Hope he isn't frigid. Though his kisses have proven that theory false…
Missing him lots. He has only been gone half an hour. Maybe this is it. Maybe he does have a secret, but he can't tell me. He probably just expected us to be one of those anti-sex couples. But now he knows that that can never be; he is gone. Off to find some poor librarian who will respect his need to sleep in separate beds?
What if he doesn't believe in sex before marriage? I hope not. Surely, I won't have to marry him, just to get into his pants?!
Have worked self into a state. Don't even know if he will be coming back yet.
Will have bath to calm self down. Hopefully will not be end of romantic life as know it.
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Mark paced about outside her flat. Watching the lights flicker on and off as she moved from room to room. How could she think he was holding out on her? He wasn't. Many times, after their dates, late at night, he would just lie awake and think of her; everything about her. When they were kissing on her doorstep, he had to clench his fists to stop himself from grabbing her and taking her there & then.
And when she asked him up for coffee…it would take him several moments of hesitation before he could trust himself to give the right answer.
How could she mistake all of his efforts?
He paced up to the little metal box by the buildings front door. He looked at her flat number, with her name printed next to it:
Jones.
Even her name made his breath come short.
A light came on above his head, he looked up startled. He heard a window being pulled and a silent "shit" escaping her mouth.
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Shit.
Shit. Shit Shit.
Mark bloody Darcy is down stairs! I have been waiting two hours for him to turn up again, and now he bloody has the nerve to turn up whilst I am looking a complete disaster! Must begin ultimate speedy dress up session before he rings buzzer.
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Mark banged his head against the wall. She clearly didn't want to see him.
Worth a shot anyway.
He buzzed.
Nothing.
Buzz.
She picked up, he could hear her breathing. Hesitating. Deciding.
"Bridget, please." He started. "Let's be adults – "
She interrupted him. "I am being an adult."
She lowered her voice & he had to press his ear to the box to hear her.
"I have just got out of the bath. I am all..." she searched for the right word, and failed "…ugly. If you wait a few moments I will be able to face you in a more lady-like fashion. I am, after all, a lady."
He could hear the smile in her voice. He smirked.
"Very well. Unlock the door now, and I will come up in ten. No more, no less. Ten minutes to do your worst."
"Fine." She buzzed him up, and dashed into her bedroom.
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The bath had been the hottest temperature she could have it, without quite burning her skin off.
The result was she had come out looking unbelievably red & shiny.
She brushed on some powder to calm her coloured cheeks down a bit.
Then she turned to her outfit.
She looked down at what she was wearing. Problem.
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I was wearing one of his old shirts and pyjama bottoms. Ones with little ducks on. Uh-Oh.
Tore apart wardrobe looking for half decent clothes but all were too slutty, too tight, too big, or too damn ugly!
Decided on a little yellow dress. Not too slutty, or too 'my mother' style…unless he likes that kind of thing?
Had taken off pyjama bottoms when realised underwear was decidedly below standards. Stood with hands on hips, staring at yellow dress & open underwear draw when…
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He watched the second hand tick round. Ten minutes! Finally! Longest ten minutes of his life!
He darted to the door, before an idea struck him and he slowed down.
He trod lightly up the stairs. He could hear her moving in the bedroom.
He pushed open the bedroom door to find her with her back to him.
He stopped dead. His mouth literally fell open.
She stood, hands on hips, hair down over her shoulders in a mess, wearing nothing but his shirt. She clearly wasn't aware of him.
He had never seen anything so sexy in his whole life.
"Bridget." He gasped out.
She visibly jumped & turned round, trying to pull the shirt down to cover her legs up. In doing this, she succeeded in pulling it further down her chest, giving him a nice glimpse of cleavage.
"Mark! Get out! I'm not done yet! You cannot see me like this!" She squealed.
He closed his mouth. And formed it into the hottest smirk she had ever seen. She suddenly felt very aware that he was fully dressed in huge black business coat and suit, and she was wearing his shirt & tatty knickers.
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He must have picked up on this too, because he suddenly shrugged off his coat and threw it on the bed…oh that coat! So big and warm and thick and laced with the smell of him…
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As soon as he dropped it, she darted forward and picked it up, wrapping its bulk around herself.
He grinned at her, she was quite insane.
"Get out. Wait in the living room." She repeated, trying to remain dignified. "I am in no fit state to talk at the moment."
"Bridget." He stepped towards her, they were almost touching. Even through the bulk of the coat, she could feel the heat, the power, the sexual energy emanating off him.
"I wasn't planning on talking."
R&R??