"Si!" Peter called out from the kitchen, "Simon!"

"I'm just packing my pyjamas!" his son shouted back from his bedroom

"Right, well get a wiggle on, son! Your grandad is expecting you." Peter glanced at his watch,

6:35PM

Hopefully she hasn't left yet...

"Why are we in such a rush? Are you going to see Carla?" Simon asked as he walked into the main area, his overnight bag thrown over his shoulder

"Yeah, Si but only for a few minutes, 'cause she's going out to a work event tonight." Peter responded, holding Simon's jacket for him to slip on

"Are you going to invite her for dinner tomorrow night?"

"Did you want me to invite her to dinner tomorrow night?" Peter replied

"Don't you want to invite her to dinner tomorrow night?"

"Why are you answering my question with a question?" Peter shook his head at his son

"You did first!" Simon accused him, "I mean she didn't come out for pizza on Monday, I thought maybe she'd want to come see us tomorrow instead."

Peter smiled and nudged his son's chin, "you've taken a real shine to Carla, haven't you?"

Simon shrugged, "yeah, she's cool."

"Cooler than your old man?"

"Dad, everyone is cooler than you..."

"Oi!" Peter pulled his son in and rubbed his knuckles playfully against his scalp, "I'll show you cool..."

Simon giggled and squeezed out of his dad's headlock, "Okay, come on," he picked up his bag, "let's go drop me off at grandad's so you can go and see Caaaaarla!" he teased

"Zip it, you," Peter playfully pushed his son out the door

"Dad and Carla sitting in a tree..."

"I don't think we'd be sitting in any tree, son."

"Why not?"

"Do you really see Carla climbing a tree in them heels she wears?"

"Yeah you'll probably just have to kiss her on solid ground, then,"

"Oh would you just, go!" Peter laughed as he followed his son down the stairs and out of the flat.

Peter walked to the Draper Mills Flats, his hand fiddling with the small present he had tucked away in his coat. As a gust of wind brushed against him he turned his collar up and pulled his coat tighter around him as he thought back to Monday, and the reason Carla hadn't joined him and Simon for dinner.

After getting out their frustrations with each other with some incredible sex in his office at the Bookies, he decided to make them both a brew while she picked up her clothing that was strewn around the office and put them back on. Neither wanting to head up to the flat just yet, and still having some time before Peter needed to pick up Simon, Carla pulled herself up onto the Bookies countertop, and sat with her legs dangling, while Peter sat in his chair. As they sipped on their teas, they began to talk about the whole Frank situation. She had brought up the charity event that she agreed to accompany him to, prior to her finding out that he had lied about her asking him out, and before she could tell the bookie that she was thinking of backing out of it, Peter had expressed that he didn't think she should be going to it under the circumstances.

Okay, in actuality he flat out told her that she wasn't going. No 'ifs', 'ands', or 'buts' about it.

This obviously didn't sit well with her, and after trading a few sharp barbs with each other, in which he found himself stood before her as she continued to sit on the countertop, she pointedly leaned in close to his face and told him that she while she may occasionally bend to him in the bedroom, she would - in no uncertain terms - be told what she could and couldn't do outside of it.

...Looking back now, he were more than sure it were the 'ifs', 'ands', or 'buts' part that really lit that fuse...

Before he could argue with her further, she had slammed down her empty mug, drawn her legs up towards her and swung them around the counter, twisted herself to the other side, slid off the countertop and stormed out of the Bookies; her bag slung over her shoulder and her coat draped across her arm, with a sashay in her steps that made her hair swing with her movements. He stood there just staring at the door, both angry and aroused, his mouth agape and still holding his mug in his hand. When he finally moved, he too slammed his mug down on the counter and let out a growl of frustration.

'That woman can be so pig-headed,' he had thought agitatedly, 'doesn't she realize I'm just trying to protect her?'

He debated chasing after her, but he knew they were both as stubborn as the other: He didn't want her going to that damned event and she would insist on going to make a point. They would just end up fighting and perhaps this time, he feared, they wouldn't make up... So he chose to stay put, hoping she would come to her senses once she cooled down.

Only as he sat with Simon that night in town eating pizza, having to make up some excuse to his son that Carla had other plans that night, he started to realize that it was indeed he who had overstepped. As he put Simon to bed, he sent her a text, not quite apologizing for his outburst but indicating that he did want to talk.

But he didn't hear from her; and when she wouldn't answer his calls, nor stop when he called to her on the street, that's when he decided, pride be damned, to start sending flowers to apologize...

By the look of her office earlier this evening, it looked like Frank had the same idea.

He chuckled to himself as he remembered how many bouquets lined the small office space. It did look comically like the prep room of a little flower shop - with all arrangements still tucked neatly into their wrappings. He did notice that while Frank's arrangements were definitely grander and more exquisite, that the only flowers that were actually out of their wrapping and sitting in a vase on her desk, were the ones that he had bought for her on Monday; and that definitely warmed his heart.

He was happy she allowed him to take her to the shops, convincing her to stop at his flat for him to change into his coat.

She actually seemed adorably disappointed that he would be leaving his leather jacket behind, but understood it was because of the chill in the air.

She had waited in the family car he borrowed from his dad, while he ran up to change, and then eyed him suspiciously when he got back in the car wearing his black coat as well as a fresh, button down shirt.

"Peter, I thought you were kidding about changing your clothes?"

"Well I need to ensure that I look good enough to warrant holding your bags while you drag me around the shops, don't I?" he teased as he started up the car, noting how a small smile tugged at her lips even as she rolled her eyes at him.

They only went to one shop. He couldn't deny it wasn't what he was expecting when it came to Carla and shopping. She was always so stylish that he assumed shopping with her would be a long drawn-out evening as she meticulously chose the clothes that she would be purchasing. After all, when Leanne dragged him to the mall for a dress for the Joinery's opening night - or anytime she needed a special outfit, really - it were always to multiple shops and he was overwhelming bombarded with colours and fabric names he couldn't discern from one another, and then having them making all sorts of zigzags through the mall that left him incredibly disoriented and desperately craving a ciggy, only to have her haul him all the way back to where they originally started, and wind up buying the first outfit she initially tried on in the very first store. It was always a thoroughly exhausting experience.

But Carla was a different entity all together. They went into the first shop, and as she pulled varying styles of dresses off the rack, handing them to the shop assistant who eagerly took them to a fitting room for her, he couldn't help but marvel at her focus. She knew what she was looking for, and she wasn't going to waste anytime window shopping.

He couldn't help but take a few of the skimpier, more revealing dresses off the rack and hand them to her. She quickly looked at the label and scoffed at him, before replacing it and pulling off the same dress a few sizes up than the one he had handed to her.

"Very kind of you to think I'm a size 2 darling, but I've been a size 8 for oohh years now, and quite content with that," she had said before peering closer at the label, "Look at this 'ere: a size 2 UK is a double zero US," she tutted, "I mean, how is that even flamin' possible? Being a double zero? I mean, wouldn't that just mean you wouldn't exist? Honestly, the sizing on women's clothing nowadays is getting ridiculous..." she had ranted on as she continued to browse.

Peter chuckled as she had grabbed a few more pieces and then he sat in one of the armchairs as she tried the dresses on. He had wolf-whistled at a few of them as she came out and stood in front of the multiple mirrors that were affixed in a semi-circle. She smirked at him, unable to contain the blush that flushed across her cheeks, but it was when she came out wearing one of the skimpier dresses that he had selected that he realized how bad of an idea this actually was...

...and not just because the fantasy of having a quickie with her in the dressing room was growing stronger by the minute...

It was because for the last few dresses she had tried on, he had noticed this suited ponce lingering around the dressing room area. He had noticed the guy when they first walked in, as he was in the section that contained all sorts of lacy underthings, obviously shopping for a woman in his life, as they had passed by it to get to one of the dress racks; and as Peter and Carla continued around the store the guy made it painfully obvious that he was checking her out; close and obvious enough that Peter had caught the sight of a wedding band on his finger, and simply shook his head.

'Shopping for his wife, and basically eye-fucking a woman who is clearly with another man,' Peter had thought as he stood behind her, shielding her from this guy's view as much as possible as they continued to browse the racks.

He had thought this guy had long since gone by the time she went to start trying on dresses, but yet there he was, standing near the dressing room waiting area, pretending to be looking at some of the dresses that hung nearby and asking the shop assistant questions about it like he was actually interested in it and not in the woman who was changing behind the curtain...

...And as Peter neared ever closer to the Draper Mills Flats on this chilly Friday evening, he could feel his blood boiling at the memory of the evening prior...

When Carla had emerged wearing a tightly fitted bandage-type dress, he actually heard this guy gasp from behind him and he reluctantly teared his gaze off of Carla to see where this gasp came from. After not seeing anything immediately, he had turned back to Carla, giving her another appreciative wolf-whistle as she went back into the changing room appreciating her backside in the tight dress until he heard another gasp from behind him, alerting him to the fact this guy felt the same way. Feeling more agitated now, Peter narrowed his eyes, and ducked down slightly in his chair, feeling rather silly for a few minutes only to finally catch sight of this guy who was obviously kneeling down and comically peering through a rack of long gowns.

He hadn't yet comprehended that Peter had caught him, and as he continued to peer through the long material he suddenly found himself staring at a pair of jeans that most definitely did not belong to a woman. He slowly looked up, one of the gowns draping ridiculously along his head, to see Peter staring down at him, his arms crossed and his eyebrow raised, and his eyes blazing.

If the whole situation didn't make Peter angry as anything, he would have laughed at this guy's pathetic attempt to try to camouflage himself into the silks and satins around him, simply to check out a woman who was most definitely out of his league.

Not wanting to lose face, the man rose to his feet, cleared his throat and walked towards the counter with his purchases in hand. And for a moment, Peter thought that was the end of it, until he looked around to see two more men continuously glancing back towards the dressing room area.

It was in that moment that it suddenly dawned on him that Carla was going to be wearing one of these dresses to this event the very next evening...with that Foster bloke and probably dozens of other men like that suited slimeball who would probably spend the whole evening undressing her with their eyes.

No. That thought was not comforting at all.

And so when Carla came out with her next dress on, despite the fact that she looked simply stunning in the off the shoulder, tight-fitted dress, he told her to scrap everything else, because he had found the perfect dress, to which he had held up a long, dark grey gown.

"Are you serious?" she asked, her eyebrow rising

"Yeah, course," he responded with a shrug of his shoulders

"Peter, I'm not trying that on, it's hideous."

"It's designer..." he tried

"Peter," Carla grabbed the dress off him and held it up against her, "it's got a high neck with whatever kind of ruffles these are 'ere," she said as she flicked the collar of the dress, "the sleeves are made of the same heavy material as the rest of the dress, and don't even get me started on the fact that they are puffy, it has absolutely no detail to it, except for these satiny buttons at the back that make it look like sommit out of Downton Abbey, and Peter it's so long I would need 7 inch heels to be able to walk in it," she stated before thrusting it back to him, "not that I would be caught dead in that in the first place."

"Well, it looked nice on the rack," he had grumbled and she crossed her arms over her chest as she eyed him curiously,

"Okay, out with it," she prodded him, "why the sudden change in direction for dresses?"

"I don't know what you mean?"

She raised both eyebrows in mock surprise, "really?" she smirked, "because you went from choosing out dresses that barely had enough material to cover me bits n' pieces, to a flamin' Victorian-style-" she sputtered her words, "-I dunno, corpse bride type dress, Pe'er!"

"Okay, I just-" he chuckled a bit at her description before glancing over his shoulder protectively, "Look, as gorgeous as you look in all them dresses, I just don't like the idea that you'll be wearing one of them tomorrow without me there, and have men, especially that pillock Foster, eyeing you like these guys are..."

She carefully peered over his shoulder and saw two men quickly look away, one of them trying to inconspicuously whistle a tune, and she smirked back to Peter, "Ahh, well I'll tell you what," she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body seductively into his and raising one of her fingers to his lips, "there's one dress in there that I really, really like, so why don't I try that one on, and if you approve, that'll be the one I get and then we can get out of here and go get dinner, deal?"

"Deal," he answered back with a smile as she pressed a passionate kiss to his lips, "Or," he began as she pulled her head away from his, "we can go somewhere a bit more private..." he whispered as he slid his hand down and squeezed one of her butt cheeks in his hand.

She giggled and playfully slapped his cheek, "not a chance, mister. I still haven't fully forgiven you for this week yet..." she turned to head into the change room, before facing him and gesturing to the gown, "and please put that back where you found it or you'll be having dinner on your own and all..." with a final dramatic, "Uhh, honestly!" she flounced into the change room and he laughed.

Peter paused outside the entrance to the Draper Mills Flats, and smiled. The dress she had come out wearing next was perfect, and funny enough, was the first one she had taken off the rack when they first entered the store. He knew that she knew that would be the dress she would leave with, but she had taken all the dresses he had selected with her to the changing room anyways, and the thought made his heart swell with pride.

She wouldn't let him pay for the dress, he knew she wouldn't, but as she had gone back to change into her regular clothes, he had made a small purchase at the counter, raising a finger to his lips to the shop assistant to keep it a secret to which she giggled and winked at him, as he placed the small box in his coat, just as Carla came out to pay for her purchase.

He treated her to dinner at a small Italian place, and when he dropped her off at night, she gave him a chaste kiss on the lips and thanked him for the evening out.

He had watched her enter the lobby of her flat, and smiled after her. She had no idea of his plan for the following evening...

And that's where he found himself now, ringing her buzzer with the first surprise of the night.

"Hello?" came her voice through the intercom,

"It's me, love. I know you're on your way out but could you let me up for a minute?"

He heard the buzzer go and entered into the lobby and up the stairs to her flat, where she had already left the door ajar for him.

He felt the air being drawn out of his lungs when he saw her in her completed look, as she stood holding a small mirror and applying some lipstick at the kitchen counter.

She had definitely chosen the right dress: a black dress with a soft neckline, silver detailing around the hem that hit just above her knees, and sheer long sleeves with the same silver detailing around the cuffs. She had her hair styled into a low bun that gathered closer to her left ear, with small curls framing her face. His eyes travelled down to the dark, sparkling, silver peep toe stilettos she had on that matched the silver on the dress.

"Well, this is a surprise," she said as she rubbed her lips together

"Carla, you look," he breathed out, "stunning."

She smiled and lowered her gaze to the ground, "you still like it then?"

"No," he responded and she looked up apprehensively, "I love it," at her slightly relieved look he continued, "or I will do once it's complete."

"Complete?" she repeated, her hands quickly smoothing down the dress thinking she forgot to finish zipping it, before he stepped forward and held out a small box to her, "Peter, what did you do?"

"You wouldn't let me buy the dress, so I wanted to get you something to wear with it..." He laughed at her perplexed look, "Come on don't leave me hanging here..." he pressed

She opened the box to reveal a beautiful pair of chandelier earrings, with black onyx stones, and glittering dark grey stones in dark silver setting.

"It's Marcasite," he explained, as she continued to look in awe at the earrings, "I thought it matched perfectly with the dress you chose. It's said to have been very popular especially with Marie Antoinette and Queen Victoria, because of the way it shone by candlelight." At her continued silence he started to doubt his choice, "did I pick wrong?"

"Peter," she breathed out, "they're gorgeous, I'm-I'm at a loss for words,"

"Well put them on then," he poked her playfully and she removed them carefully from their case and affixed them to her ears, walking over to the mirror she had hanging across from the kitchen.

"I love them," she said with a smile, "they're perfect," she turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, "thank you," she whispered as she pulled back.

"My pleasure," he responded as he brushed his fingers gently across her cheek, about to lean in for another kiss when her buzzer pierced through the flat

"Ohhh, that'll be me cab," she said disappointedly, "I wish I hadn't agreed to go to this now," she whispered pressing her forehead against his, "I'd much rather stay here and thank you properly for my beautiful earrings..."

"Maybe you can make it up to me tomorrow evening instead?" He whispered, hoping she wouldn't catch on to the second surprise he had planned for that evening. At her nod, he grabbed one of her hands in his, "come on, I'll walk you out..."

She unbuckled her seat belt and turned slightly in her seat to face the man driving, "Thank you for the lift home Frank, and for the wonderful evening out," she said with a smile,

"I'm glad you had a good time," he said as he eyed her appreciatively for the seemingly millionth time that night, "I am sorry you got dragged up to dance by that Michael-something or other," he chuckled as he remembered her face on the dance floor as she pleaded silently with him to save her

"Thank you for cutting in," she chuckled, "he were getting a bit too comfortable staring at me 'what-its', and I didn't think that kneeing him in between the legs would have been the type of attention to that area that he were after..."

Frank laughed, "well I am sorry you had to put up with it, but you were the most stunning woman in the room, it's not surprising the attention you were getting..."

Carla breathed out and smiled, her eyes glancing down to her clutch, before looking back to him and leaning over to place a soft kiss on his cheek, "thanks again for the wonderful evening, Frank," she opened the door and swung her legs out to the ground before rising out of the seat, "I'll catch you up on the progress of your order next week, yeah?" she said as she turned back and leaned down

"Absolutely," he smiled at her, "I'll be in touch,"

"Night Frank," she said

"Night, Carla," he replied

She shut the door and began walking to the entrance of her building.

"Good night, then?" came a voice from her right and she jumped in fright, before realizing it was Peter.

"Okay you really need to stop doing that, you'll give me a heart attack!" She playfully hit him with her clutch, "how long have you been here?"

Peter shrugged, "bout an hour or so,"

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to surprise you," he stepped closer to her, walking her backwards until her back was pressed against the wall, "are you surprised?" he asked as he playfully rubbed his nose against hers before capturing her lips in his

"Maybe," she answered back as she kissed him again

"And am I forgiven for this week, then?"

"Oh I think you could find a way to grovel some more..."

He smiled and ground his hips into hers, as he laid gentle kisses along her jawline, "so are you going to invite me up, or what?"

"hmmm, come on then." she smiled as she slid her card into the security reader, and pulled him by his coat lapel behind her into the building, unaware that Frank sat watching their encounter; his jealousy reaching dangerous new heights...

They pushed their way into her apartment, barely closing the door before he had her back pressed against it.

He pushed away from her briefly to shrug off his coat, and help her pull off hers, tossing them off to the side before reaching down, grasping the back of her thighs and lifting her off the ground. She instinctively wrapped her legs around him and he slammed her back into the door. She let out a gasp of pleasure at his aggression and dug her nails into his neck and shoulder as she continued to kiss him feverishly, pulling at his shirt to remove it from him.

He placed her down for a moment, keeping her pinned against the door with his pelvis, as he pulled the shirt up and over his head. He slid down her body, his fingers reaching under her dress and looping around the hem of her knickers before pulling them down her smooth legs with him. He glanced up at her as she stepped out of her underwear; her eyes were wild and wet with desire and he trailed one hand back up her leg and held her hip firmly in place.

She leaned her head back against the door, her eyes fluttering closed in ecstasy, and her body jolted in delight as she felt his lips lay a multitude of gentle kisses up her thigh, hovering dangerously close to her centre. He pushed the hem of her dress up so that it sat just at the curves of her hips, and smiled at the reaction and moans he was emitting from her, as he traced his tongue up the crease between her thigh and pelvis causing her to buck against him in pleasure. Unable to tease her further, he nudged her legs open a little further and ran his tongue over her bud, flicking and circling it and enhancing her pleasure.

"Oh God, Peter…" she moaned breathlessly, the palm of one hand pressed against the door behind her as the other grasped a fistful of her hair. She pushed her hips out towards him, encouraging him for minutes on end as he continued to pleasure her. He continued on, bringing his fingers up and thrusting them into her, while his tongue continued to flick over her clit. He could feel her getting close, her legs quivering unsteadily in her heels, and he sped up his movements, his fingers thrusting in and out of her quicker now, as he furiously licked at her pulsing bud. She bucked against him, her fingers gripping his hair ever tighter before she cried out his name as her climax took over. As she quivered against him, he rose to his feet, pressing a hungry kiss to her lips before pushing down his jeans and boxer-briefs and stepping out of them. She moved to kick off her shoes and unzip her dress, but he quickly grabbed her wrists and halted her,

"leave them on," he ordered her, "all of it!" before roughly grabbing her and hoisting her legs back up around his waist.

His one hand trailed the underside of one of her thighs, encouraging her to lower it from his hip and loosely wrap around his leg. With a swift move of his hips, he pushed slowly up into her, savouring each and every inch. She gasped out loud, bending her head down and resting her forehead against his, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth agape in pleasure and her fingers digging once again into his shoulders and neck.

With a smile he pushed into her further and further until he filled her entirely and let out a groan himself. He began thrusting into her in a slow steady rhythm, pressing kisses upon her neck and suckling at the flesh there. She matched his pace as she grinded down against his thrusts, her hips circling and further applying pressure upon her bud. They maintained the slow burn for until Peter began to feel her again starting to yet again reach her peak; her breaths becoming more erratic and shallow.

"God, I've missed this…" he moaned into her neck as he felt her throbbing around him, her shoes falling to the floor as she wrapped herself tighter around his body.

"Pe-Peter…" she breathed out as she felt a second orgasm coming on

He whispered lovingly into her ear, encouraging her to cum and with a cry she let herself go as he continued to plunge into her steadily. Before she came down from her climax, he repositioned his hold on her and turned, lowering them to the hard floor below without removing himself from her.

His fingers trailed down her body and he increased his speed; lowering himself and wrapping his arms under her shoulders so that they were as close as possible as he thrust into her repeatedly, feeling his own climax approaching.

"Oh fuck…" he groaned, as she trailed her fingernails down his spine sending shock waves through his skin and tipping him over the edge. He pushed into her forcefully one last time as he came, whispering her name and holding himself steady in her as she continued to circle her hips slowly against him.

"So, you really liked the dress, then?" she stated with a chuckle

"I really liked the dress…" he replied, as she leaned up and kissed him again before he pulled out of her and collapsed next to her on the floor, reaching over and pulling her close to him,

"I didn't get to thank you properly for the earrings," she smirked seductively, as she traced her fingers down his bare chest and he placed a kiss upon her forehead,

"Oh I haven't forgotten," he said, "but we have all night for that and to make up for lost time…" he pushed himself to a standing position, and held out both hands for her to grasp before pulling her up to a standing position, "I do have one request though…" he said with a smile as he led her to the bedroom

"What's that then?"

He stopped at the dining room table and pulled her close, encouraging her to lift her arms above her head, as he unzipped the dress, and pushed it up and over her body, "That you wear the earrings, and nothing else for the rest of the night…"