Reilly really hadn't thought she'd get this far. Here he was, sitting in front of her, breathing her same air, and it felt different than before. James' mischievous, chiseled face grinning back at her, still a little shocked. His shoulders were still broad and strong, and she suspected he also spent a few hours at the gym each week. She imagined that his physique under those stuffy office clothes was just as good, if not better than when they had last known each other. His thick, dark brown hair played lightly across his forehead, giving him a tussled "I just always look this good" look. And his eyes. Damn those eyes. Those amber golden-brown eyes.
She didn't think it would be this hard to keep her cool around him, and she was hoping all this extra effort would eventually be worth it. She had practically thrown back her first glass of champagne trying to dull the nerves and regain the calm confidence that she had practiced so hard. Her second glass went down much slower, but she was proud to see that James had considered the first downing less of a nervous tick, and more of an adventurous fun side. So far, everything was working perfectly.
Reilly uncrossed, and re-crossed her legs, making sure to leave ample time for James to peek in between her legs as she did. She'd worn a small, black lace thong, and she was hoping against hope that her own arousal wasn't showing. She wanted to be sure James thought he had no effect on her whatsoever... however contrary that was to the fact.
James fidgeted with his cuff-links. Fidgeting didn't used to be a habit of his. She wondered if she was making him nervous. As the silence grew, she decided to look from her champagne glass to his amber eyes coyly, her gaze was met, not by his eyes, but his eyelids, as he was quite obviously staring directly at her boobs, mouth slightly agape... Neanderthal-ish. She chuckled, sipped her champagne, and waited.
