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Alexia Lockhart – Wildflower Series

Wildflower – Becoming His

Copyright 2018 Alexia Lockhart

Published by Alexia Lockhart at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to or your favourite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents



Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

About Alexia Lockhart

Other books by Alexia Lockhart

Connect with Alexia Lockhart


For My Marcus……

One person inspired this story, this novel was originally written for his eyes only, and although the story has developed and grown since the very first draft was created for him, it is still his book! Marcus was moulded in his image. This person is my dear husband, and I want to thank him for challenging me and inspiring me in everything I do.


Welcome to the story of Imogen-Kelsie.

Imogen, is a feisty young woman, working to fund her studies, studying Dance & Movement Studies and English.

She has struggled with love, but still believed in love, but was afraid to let anyone in. her feisty façade disguising a scared young girl lacking confidence, afraid to love. One quiet evening Imogen’s life is changed when she meets Marcus. He catches Imogen’s eye. Something about him makes her feel emotions she has never had before. A romance interlaced with erotic scenes touching on aspects of BDSM. Marcus leads her on a rollercoaster taking many twists and turns as Imogen learns to let him in, discovering feelings she’s never had before, and learning to love. But can she learn to trust and rely on someone else?

Music features highly in her life, so much so the novel has a soundtrack of suggested songs relative to the story.

The suggested song list can be found on the website.

Chapter 1

Imogen was a young feisty girl with a big heart but rebellious nature. Her feisty confidence a façade to hide her sensitive nature. She was in her final year of her degree. Studying in the quiet seaside town, Scarborough, the place she now called home.

It was a night like any other. A normal Friday evening. Imogen stood behind the bar. The usual regulars filled the club. She leant on the bar. Her long wavy brown hair was lying over one shoulder as she looked out over the dimly lit room. The old fluorescent lights giving a warm cosy atmosphere. She worked at a local working men’s club in the middle of the town to fund her studies. It was almost a year since she began working there. She always felt secure in a CIU club. Sitting round a table sat a group of men playing a game of dominoes, she could feel the tension in the air. The bar was quiet, she twiddled her hair with her fingers in a seemingly absent-minded way.

Back home, in Newcastle, no-one believed she would succeed, but she gained a scholarship onto a BSc (HONS) in Dance & Movement Studies and English. The door opened. The little bell which hung above the door signalled that someone was entering. Imogen watched as a very tall handsome man, entered the bar.

He caught Imogen’s eye as he’d never been there before, she would have remembered him. She watched him, intensively, studying every part of him as he walked to the bar. He had what looked like a three-day stubble, but wore a neat pressed suit, and he wore it well. She admired his chiselled jaw, and welcoming smile. His soft, feather-like brown hair brushed away from his brow. A small but distinct gold stud in his right ear. Imogen turned her head away quickly, so he didn’t notice she had been staring at him.

He sat down on a stool at the end of the bar. He glanced at the array of drinks along the back wall. He thought how it had a more limited choice than what he was used to.

“Double Vodka, with 1 cube of ice.” He instructed. Speaking with such a commanding presence.

Imogen poured his vodka, and placed it on the beermat, before picking up the £5 note on the bar next to him. She turned, walking towards the cash register. Turning slightly, glancing over her shoulder, watching him.

He swirled the vodka in his glass, listening to the clinking of the ice cube. Bringing the glass up to his lips, he poured the clear liquid into his mouth, letting it sit, savouring it for a while before swallowing. He closed his eyes, dwelling only on the flavour.

“God that was good” he thought to himself. He placed the empty glass on the bar and sat quietly.

Imogen watched slyly as he removed his tie and unbuttoned his top button. He removed his jacket, his muscles rippled beneath his tight shirt. She glanced around the bar before accidentally making eye contact with him. He looked up, catching her gaze. It was the first time he really noticed her, he had been too distracted by thoughts of the day. She felt drawn into his eyes. There was something drawing her to him. Staring into his dark eyes she was stuck in a trance like state. They were so mesmerizing. It was as if they looked deep into her soul. She couldn’t take her eyes off them.

A customer approached the bar, Imogen turned walking away. He watched as she served the old man, noticing how at ease she was with the customers in the bar.

“Another?” She asked as she picked up his empty glass.

“No, a pint of John Smith’s” He replied.

He continued to watch her as she poured his pint. She placed the pint on the beermat in front of him. Their hands touched as he passed her a £20 note.

It had been too dark to get a good look at them before, but his eyes were a captivating steel blue. A sparkling dark sapphire, like staring into the ocean, like a water so deep that she was afraid to jump in but couldn’t resist. Turning her back on him to use the till she took a deep breath. Imogen handed him his change, trying to remain cool and collected. It wasn’t the first time a stranger had entered the bar, but there was something about him which made her heart flutter.

He wrapped his fingers around the glass eyeing the amber liquid, the perfect head. She watched him from the corner of her eye as she polished a glass. He raised the glass to his mouth. As he took a sip of his pint, she smiled, biting her lip trying not to giggle as the foam from his pint lay delicately on his upper lip. His lips were a pale pink. A little chapped but irresistible. She stared at them as his hand glided over his lips wiping away the foam. She wanted to kiss those lips, she imagined how they would feel against hers.

“A perfect pint from a pretty perfect young lady” he commented, jolting her back to reality.

Imogen began to blush as she realised she had been daydreaming, she bit her lip as she tried to hide her dimples. He looked up at her. Drawn into her eyes, captivated by her smile. Her lips looked very soft and very kissable! Her innocence was too much for him to bear.

“Thank you” she replied as she glanced up at him nervously.

He sat quietly watching Imogen as she worked. Although confident he looked a little uneasy. There was something she found to be so sexy in that vulnerable look of his. He gazed at her as she continued working behind the bar, becoming entranced by her pretty blue/green eyes. Her long brown wavy hair falling over her face, which brought out the pink in her blushing cheeks, her top showing just a little of her small rounded breasts. He watched attentively as her hand gripped around the leaver of the hand pump beer tap.

“Next time, I’m ordering real ale, just so I can watch her do that!” he thought to himself.

He looked away blushing, hoping she didn’t notice. He didn’t want her to know what was going through his mind. He watched her as she walked out from behind the bar carrying the freshly poured pint to the table where the men were playing dominoes. Watching as she leant over, her arm resting on the shoulder of one of the players. He couldn’t help but smile as he looked at her tight jeans accentuating every curve of her perfect ass.

He admired her perfect hourglass figure, the way her hair fell perfectly on her shoulders, imagining how soft they would be to touch. Gorgeous, simply stunning, he thought to himself as he watched her walked back to the bar, his eyes followed her every move. Leaving his seat, he walked up to her, his words failed him. Imogen looked deep into his dark eyes, bit her lip, smiled and walked past him, looking back briefly with a sexy look in her eyes.

He returned to his seat at the bar. Holding his pint glass, he looked at Imogen.

“How do I go about getting service like that?” He asked inquisitively.

“You have to be a regular” She replied, smiling.

“I’m Imogen” she said as she gave her hand to him, he took her hand and kissed it.

As he looked up at her he replied,

“I’m Marcus, nice to make your acquaintance.”

His voice was warm and rich; well spoken, but also with a ruggedness. Her heart began to beat faster as he talked, but she wasn’t focusing on his words.

Imogen tried to make small talk, her words kept failing to take flight. From the moment she had saw him there was an attraction. An attraction like a magnet drawing her to him. There was a look in his eyes, filled with a sincerity. He reminded her of the man that took up most of her thoughts and daydreams. Though the man in her dreams was fictional, the man sitting in front of her was real. He paused, silent for a moment, looking down at his pint. She watched as he brought the glass to his lips. She leant her head to one side, her teeth gently biting her lips just a little, watching as he finished his pint. He looked up, their eyes met, blushing. A smile crept across his face as she turned away trying to hide.

From the moment he saw her, Marcus had instantly fell for her blue eyes and the way she would bite her lip to try and stop herself from smiling. He had entered the bar by chance, looking for a quiet drink to clear his mind. Her beauty filled him with feelings of lust - a thin replica of love based more in desire and conquest. He had sworn off playing the field, taking a break from women. He wasn’t looking for love, wasn’t interested in starting a relationship. He had never imagined committing to anyone. A new chapter in his life was beginning, he needed to focus.

He had always been in control. A newly trained firefighter. Everything from the way he held himself, to the way he spoke, demonstrated his unassailable confidence. Recently moving to Scarborough to take up his first post, in the quiet seaside town, renting a small bedsit in the centre of town. He had moved away from his hometown of Derby, leaving family and friends behind, a fresh start. He loved the freedom of having his own space, doing things on his own terms, not having to think of anyone else. But the longer he spent in her company the more he began to feel she was worth breaking the drought. He thought how this girl knocked the wind out of his sails. She was definitely a girl worth taking a risk for.

She poured him another pint placing it in front of him. Before she could take her hand away from the glass, Marcus touched her hand, their eyes met, his eyes looked deeply into her own, in that moment there was a connection, as if in that moment their souls had made a bridge. They broke apart as a customer approached the bar.

The hours passed while Marcus continued to admire Imogen. Sitting at the bar all evening quietly and attentively watching her, listening to her sweet voice and innocent laugh. Soon the bar became empty,

“are you going home?” Imogen asked.

“I thought I’d stay here and continue to enjoy the view” Marcus replied.

The room became silent as the music ended. The lights began to be turned off except those nearest the bar.

“I’m sorry I have to finish tidying up” Imogen said apologetically as she turned and walked to the other end of the bar.

A few moments later Imogen heard the door open and close, she turned around to see Marcus had left, her heart sank. She went to pick up his glass, underneath was a note,

Imogen smiled when she read the note, she folded it up and put it in the back pocket of her jeans. Smiling at the thought of seeing him again.

Chapter 2

Imogen left the club. The air was cold and crisp, she felt the cold wind stroking her skin. She fastened her coat, wrapping her arms around her. The streetlights were casting their sulphurous glow on the wet concrete pavement.

She walked home slowly dreaming of her encounter with Marcus. As she walked her hair fluttered in the cool wind. With each stride her mind was filled with thoughts of him. She reached her front door. For a moment her hand rested on the door handle, she smiled and sighed, was he real? She entered her flat. She removed her coat hanging it on the coat stand. Her flatmates were still up, sitting on the settee in the living room. They turned to welcome her.

“How was your night?” Lorna asked.

Imogen smiled, and bit her lip.

“Hmm…” Imogen replied as she walked past them entering her bedroom. She closed the door behind her.

As she removed her clothes, she imagined Marcus’ hands running down her arms, undressing her. She threw on her nightdress, pulled back the quilt and collapsed on her bed, pulling the quilt over her. She lay awake thinking of him. She closed her eyes and could see his face clearly as though he was there.

Thoughts consumed her restless mind. She thought how there wasn’t one feature which made Marcus so handsome, though his eyes came close! How from them came an intensity, an honesty, a gentleness. She believed a person’s eyes are a window to their humanity, showing the person, you really are.

Something about him captured her, like never before. She looked at her hand. As she stroked the back with her other hand, she remembered how her hand felt in his, and the feeling of his lips during that lingering kiss on her hand. She closed her eyes. Although she was tired, she couldn’t sleep, her eyes were heavy, she asked herself,

“why can’t I sleep?”.

She looked over at the clock, it was 1:00 AM. She tried to stop thinking of him but images of him filled her mind. That smile, those eyes…

She tossed and turned in her bed trying to get comfortable. Her hand slowly moved down her body till it gently glided through her pubic hair and began stroking her clitoris. She began to imagine being with him, images of him kissing her flashed through her mind. She began to touch herself again. Masturbation was never an event that took place in her life. She felt confused as the feelings overwhelmed her. Her nerves were on edge as she was beginning to sweat. She swept her hair away from her face, her pillow damp with perspiration. Her legs began twitching as her calf muscles spasmed.

Her hand again began to search out her clitoris. Sweat now covered her whole body. She kicked the quilt off the bed, the room was so hot. Her hand slowly moved further down, a finger entered her vagina, she took a deep breath, her body trembling. She hadn’t done this before, she began shaking as a second finger was inserted. A gasp escaped her lips and pleasure shot through her thighs and pelvis. A noise outside of her room startled her, she turned over slightly, looking at the door, a shadow appeared underneath; she heard the mumbled voices of her flatmates before the lights went out. With relief she turned back over and moaned softly, her fingers again entering her vagina, this time she went in deeper, staring at the ceiling above,

“What is happening to me?” she thought to herself.

Her left leg lifted instinctively as she rolled onto her side, as her fingers pressed against the inside of her vagina. Her other hand began caressing her clit, she let out a clearly audible moan. She buried her face into her soaked pillow and let out muffled moans of pleasure. It was heaven. The pleasure increased, and her breathing began to get heavy. She could feel a warm liquid between her fingers leaking down onto the palm of her hand. Minor relief came at once. She lay there for a few minutes, exhausted. Slowly, she removed her drenched fingers.

Her body was now chilled, as she lay naked on the bed, uncovered. She looked over to the floor where her quilt lay. With effort, she turned to her side reaching for the quilt, covering her naked, sweaty skin, and fell asleep dreaming of him.

Chapter 3

Imogen awoke as the sun shone through her window. She wondered whether the previous night’s encounter was just a dream, she reached into her trouser pocket to find the note. The flat was empty, she put on her silk dressing gown, and went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. As the kettle boiled she wondered whether she should go. She didn’t want to spoil the memory of such a wonderful encounter. She also began questioning what she did the night before. How could a man she’d only briefly met cause her to act that way? She had only had one love before. She was 16 when she met Jacob, she thought she had met her prince.

Fiercely independent, she had spent her life looking after herself. She was beginning to discover who she was as a person, the young girl slowly becoming a woman. He crushed her spirit till she was only a shell of what she was before, her confidence lost as she was made to believe she was never good enough, she lost all of her own identity as he controlled every aspect, including her friends, her hobbies, her loves, extinguishing her passion, the fire within her, before breaking her heart.

Deep down she was a hopeless romantic, a girl who loved to dance. There was a hole in her heart, she yearned to be loved, but was afraid. She remembered reading how we really, only fall in love with three people in our lifetime.

Our first is when we are young, in high school even. It’s the idealistic love—the one that seems like the fairy tales we read as children. That we enter into it with the belief that this will be our only love. Finding ourselves having to swallow down our personal truths to make it work because deep down we believe that this is what love is supposed to be. Because in this type of love, how others view us is more important than how we actually feel.

The second is supposed to be our hard love—the one that teaches us lessons about who we are and how we often want or need to be loved. This is the kind of love that hurts, whether through lies, pain or manipulation.”

Both these loves described her first love, she hoped her next love would be real, to find her true love.

The third is the love we never see coming. His is the love that comes so easy it doesn’t seem possible. It’s the kind where the connection can’t be explained and knocks us off our feet because we never planned for it. This is the love where we come together with someone and it just fits—there aren’t any ideal expectations about how each person should be acting, nor is there pressure to become someone other than we are. We are just simply accepted for who we are already—and it shakes to our core. It isn’t what we envisioned love would look like, nor does it abide by the rules that we had hoped to play it safe by. But still it shatters our preconceived notions and shows us that love doesn’t have to be how we thought in order to be true.”

This is the love that keeps knocking on our door regardless of how long it takes us to answer. It’s the love that just feels right. Now 21 years old, she had rediscovered herself, rebuilt her life. She had spent the past 2 years searching, beginning to follow her dreams, to find that confidence and freedom she once had. To dance through life. Her feistiness was just an act to hide the broken soul beneath, she had vowed never again, though still dreamed that real love would find her.

She poured her cup of tea and walked back to her room. She sat on her bed thinking. Above her bed was a quote from her favourite writer, a reminder to never fully close her heart, to never give up on love.

Thinking of Marcus, she wondered, could she risk letting this man in? And if she did what would she wear, and how was she to get there?? She recalled her best friends’ wise words from a few weeks earlier, as she browsed through her wardrobe,

“You'll do anything to make someone else happy, but you don't know how to be happy yourself."

Those words echoed in her head. She picked up her phone to send him a text, telling him about this man she had met. But how could she explain the feelings she had for him?

She typed a quick message…

“I’ve met someone…. Will tell you more when I see you!”

Putting down her phone, her hand glided through her wardrobe, touching every outfit till she stopped on her leathers. She smiled as her hand ran up and down her leather trousers.

“That’s it!” she said to herself.

She was always more confident whilst on her bike. She put on her leather trousers which tightly gripped her thighs, she fastened her bra and picked out one of her tight-fitting t-shirts. Her phone pinged. She eagerly read the reply from Rob.

“Stay safe, and remember you deserve the world nothing less”

She smiled and sighed. She leant down picking up her lipstick, a light peach, she looked at it and shook her head,

“that won’t do!” she muttered.

Sneakily she borrowed her flat mates red lipstick.

“She won’t mind” she thought to herself as she applied the lipstick.

“That’s much better!” she thought as she smiled at the reflection in the mirror.

She put on her leather jacket and took a deep breath. As Imogen left the flat, she picked up her helmet and her keys, exiting the house she scooped up her hair and put on her helmet. She climbed onto her bike, and turned on the engine, her hand gripped the throttle, revving the engine, the bike vibrated between her legs. She revved the engine, dropping the bike into gear and sped off through the town, down to the beach. She pulled up at the local café on the north beach which was popular with bikers. The air was cool and crisp. The air smelled so fresh. It was a little chilly, a cool spring morning. As she sipped her tea she watched the waves crash against the shore, her hands were shaking,

“You’ve got this!” she said to herself.

She looked at her watch, it was 11.45am.

“15 minutes? No problem” she proclaimed, as she dropped her paper cup in the bin and mounted her bike.

She started her engine and raced along the road around the shore, through the town and up to the Mount.

Chapter 4

Imogen pulled up to the top of Oliver’s Mount, she removed her helmet, her hair fell down onto her shoulders. She looked around, before unmounting her bike.

Imogen walked slowly to the viewing area looking over Scarborough below. She looked at her watch... 11.55am.

“Not bad” she thought.

She had dreamt of racing on the mount, but she was a girl, though she sure could give the men a run for their money! She felt someone behind her. Marcus’ hand gently touched her arm. His hand was warm, her nerves were tingling at the comfort of his contact. She held her breath as she turned around to face him. Marcus stood in front of her holding a single red rose.

“You ride a bike?” he asked inquisitively,

She nodded her eyes looking over to her bike parked at the café. He followed her eyes over to her bike then back to her. She bit her lip and looked down, trying to stay cool. She hoped she was concealing her nerves. Marcus was normally very cool and collected but seeing this beauty in leather in front of him, he felt out of control.

“This way” he beckoned, taking her hand.

Imogen followed blindly, his warmth seeping into her being, comforting her. She wondered what he had planned. He led her down into the wooded area below the viewing platform. The area was exceptionally beautiful, as the leaves were beginning to bud, spring was coming. They made their way to the picnic spot which Marcus had prepared,

“What if I hadn’t turned up?” Imogen asked cheekily. Marcus smiled.

She sat down on the blanket, a picnic basket lay in the middle of the blanket. Another blanket was neatly folded near the basket. Marcus sat down opposite, watching her as she unzipped and removed her leather jacket. He opened the basket taking out a bottle of wine.

He poured the wine and gazed into her eyes. She sipped the wine, not wanting to drink too much, knowing she had to ride back home. They sat eating and chatting, Marcus remained quiet, attentively listening to every word she said. She talked of her studies, her love of music and dance, he was captivated by her passion.

Marcus remained mysterious, Imogen wanted desperately to learn about this man who had captured her heart in such a short space of time. Their conversation was filled with smiles, the gentle gaze of their eyes was the real communication, not the words which were spoken. What they talked about never mattered, only that they were talking, connecting. Hidden beneath their talk was a passion building, a spark igniting, a deep passion beginning to grow.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he watched his own reflection dance in her silver blue eyes. He refilled his wine glass in the hope that more alcohol would slow him down, calm him, camouflaging his feelings.

She watched him, her eyes glancing up and down filled with nerves. She leant back her hand resting on the blanket beneath. What was beautiful about him, came from deep within; making her want to feel how his lips felt touching hers. All she could think about was kissing him, she longed for his touch, she had never felt this way before. How could she feel this way when she had only met him the night before?

She looked up at him, their eyes met, she looked away. Her hair fell down over her face. Marcus leaned in and his hand gently caressed the side of her face pushing her hair behind her ear.

Shyly she looked back, again their eyes met. Imogen’s lips parted in anticipation, drawing him in, her heart beating fast. Marcus gently leaned in and kissed her soft warm lips.

It was slow and soft. She hadn’t felt like this before. She pulled back slightly, her breath shaky and shallow. She leant back to steady herself, as her hands fell against the wildflowers in the grass around them, she remembered a quote from her studies. Their lips brushed like wildflowers in the wind.

She tilted her head, looking at him from the corner of her eye. He kissed her cheek and she turned to face him. He leaned in a little closer, their foreheads touching. His hand rested below her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek as their breaths mingled. The caress of his lips on her lips was softer than she had imagined. Again, their lips locked together, her head was full of emotion, feelings of lust and desire, no man had captured her the way he did.

The world around her blurred as she gazed into his eyes. She couldn’t fight against the thoughts that were going through her mind. Her arms reached up wrapping around his neck. She breathed in sharply and kissed him delicately, his arms encircled her waist drawing her in.

His passion for her took over, he could no longer hold back, his lips were hungry for hers. His lips moved from her lips to her neck. Gently he began kissing her soft neck, she struggled to catch her breath, her heart pounding, losing control. His lips moved back up to hers, kissing her his teeth caught her bottom lip, gently biting it, pulling apart. She ran her fingers gently down his chest, feeling his muscles under his t-shirt before gliding her hand around his back, under his t-shirt. She leant in kissing his neck. Her fingers began running up and down his spine, before pulling him closer until there was no space left between them. He shivered, and a big smile came across his face.

She continued to kiss and mouth his neck. His hands grasped her head, his fingers running through her long dark wavy hair. He pulled back a bit just staring into her eyes. Such kindness and warmth, not to mention the passion.

He brushed his lips to hers, gently biting her top lip. She gasped slightly. His kiss took her breath away. He paused again, looking deep into her eyes.

A cold breeze began to sweep in from the coast. He wrapped his arms around her and gently laid her down on the blanket. His hand caressing through her hair.

He looked down at her chest, he couldn't decide if her erect nipples were from the excitement of his kiss or the cooler temperatures. It didn't really matter, he just knew he wanted to feel them. In his hands, and on his lips. He reached under her t-shirt and gently caressed her breasts.

He pulled her T-shirt over her head, her arms lifted above her head, he removed it throwing it on the blanket. His hand glided around her back and effortlessly unfastened her bra before removing it. She lay there still, as if paralysed by his touch. The cold breeze hit her bare skin, her nipples became even more erect. All Imogen could think of was, what if someone saw them?

His hand moved up her body and up her arms, again he lent in to kiss her. Her breath was shallow, her heartbeat quickened. He looked deep into her eyes, his hand gently caressing her cheek, calming her.

“Are you OK?” he asked nervously.

She tried to catch her breath, unable to speak. She nodded. He began kissing her neck then moving slowly down till he was kissing her left breast. He lay down beside her and with his other hand, he began caressing her other breast. He twisted her nipple between his forefinger and thumb. She started to squirm just like the night before. She gasped as the pleasure shot through her, her calf muscles spasmed, her head arched back.

He moved his lips to the other breast. Kissing her breast, then softly sucking her nipple. She could feel herself getting wet below. She was in heaven. He moved his hand gently down her body and around her tight arse, he loved the feel of the leather, his hand glided across the front of her pelvis, with one hand he unbuttoned and unzipped her leather trousers.

It all felt too fast, too soon, she wasn’t that type of girl, but she couldn’t control it. His hand glided down, sliding his hand under her knickers. As his fingers reached her clit she opened her legs. He spread her lips open with his thumb and middle finger and flicked her clit with his forefinger. She moaned at the touch, she began to shiver. He could feel the wetness and could hardly control himself.

He took a deep breath, and began rubbing her clit with a slow, steady rhythm. He leaned in and kissed her again. Her head was spinning. He slid two fingers deep inside her. She arched her back and dug her hips into the earth beneath her. He began to move his fingers around inside her. She let out a cry with each wave of pleasure that escaped her body. She had never felt this way before, she didn’t want it to stop.

He removed his fingers, she opened her eyes and watched as he licked his fingers clean before gently touching her lip with his finger, before holding her chin, leaning in for a soft delicate kiss. He draped his arm over her chest his other hand gently caressing her face, her body began to relax but she was still breathing heavily.

He pulled the spare blanket over them wrapping the blanket around them both, holding her tightly as she recovered. Moments passed, she turned onto her front, her eyes closed. Marcus gently began kissing the arch of her back.

There was silence, the only sound was the birds singing in the trees. Imogen opened her eyes as she began to recover, her mind racing as she was conflicted by what she had just done. She looked up, a single dandelion clock grew in the middle of the grass in front of her. Imogen picked the dandelion. The dandelion was her favourite wildflower, the dandelion clock resonated with hopes and wishes.

Wishes carried on the seed. She once heard it said that if you successfully blow every seed off the dandelion in one breath, the person you are in love with will love you back.

Imogen flashed back to the previous year. She had spent the summer looking back at her life and trying to rediscover herself. While walking on one warm Octobers morning she found a spot of dandelions, in the middle one lonely dandelion had gone to seed, the dandelion clock ready to disperse. She had picked the dandelion and closing her eyes she made a wish that she would find real love, a love she deserved. Gently blowing on the dandelion, every seed dispersed. She caught 2 seeds in her hand, taking them home with her. Later that month she had the 2 seeds made into a necklace, seeds of hope. She was wearing that necklace. She held the necklace in her hand, against her chest. She glanced over her shoulder at Marcus, before gently blowing on the dandelion clock.

Again, the seeds of a dandelion dispersed into the air carried on the spring breeze. As every seed dispersed again she made a wish. A wish that this was real. She was willing to show her vulnerable heart and see where this journey would take her. Imogen glanced down at her watch,

“I’ve got to go” she said hesitantly as she sat up, looking around her.

“I’ve got work tonight...” she continued. She didn’t want to leave, she bit her lip and looked down, his hand touched her jaw lifting her head and reached in kissing her softly.

He stood up took her hand and helped her to her feet. He picked up her t-shirt then gently kissed each breast, before putting her t-shirt over her head, Imogen pulled her arms through, he pulled her close kissing her. He pulled her top down, falling to his knees he kissed her naval before fastening her trousers. He picked up her leather jacket, returning to his feet, he passed it to her, wishing she would stay. He picked up the single red rose and taking her hand he walked her back up to the cafe. As they walked back to her bike, both were feeling the wrench of parting.

She smiled at him as she straddled her bike and started the engine. She was desperate to see him again but didn’t want him to know that.

“Can I see you again?” he asked.

Imogen fastened her leather jacket half way up, trying not to look at him. He leant in, lifting her chin, kissing her gently before placing the rose under her t-shirt, between her breasts. Imogen smiled, her dimples showing.

“You know where I work” she replied sheepishly before putting on her helmet and riding away.

She watched Marcus through her rear-view mirror standing where she left him. It wasn’t till she got home she realised she had left her bra behind….

Chapter 5

At work every time someone walked through the door she hoped it would be him, but every time her hopes were dashed. Time passed slowly, she found herself drifting off thinking of him.

Her mind was so much like the ocean calm on the surface with so many deep under currents, she felt like a buoy, bobbing on the surface of the water, watching for the incoming ship.

“What’s up with you tonight?” one of the regulars asked.

“Nothing…” she sighed as a single tear beginning to well up in her eye.

Soon it was the end of the night, the last customer left the bar. She heard the door open,

“We’re closed” she shouted as she turned around to see Marcus standing in the doorway.

“A bit late, don’t ya think?” She asked inquisitively, she didn’t want him to know she’d been waiting all night.

“Well, I had to return this….” He said as he pulled her bra from his trouser pocket and placed it on the bar.

Her hand reached out for her bra, touching the blue lace, looking up into his deep blue eyes. His hand covered hers.

Imogen blushed.

“Thank you” she replied trying not to giggle.

She moved her hand away, turning to pour him a drink. Marcus sat down at the same spot he had sat the previous night.

“The least I can do for you returning it to me” she said as she passed the pint to him.

Their hands touched as he took hold of the glass. She looked down trying not to blush, biting her lip. She turned away pouring herself a drink. Taking a deep breath, she went and sat with him.

“Since I had your bra, does that mean your braless?” Marcus asked while looking at her breasts.

“Well that’s for me to know….” She said, but before she got to finish her sentence Marcus finished it for her,

“…and for me to find out…”

He leaned over and touched her waist, his hand began to glide up under her top, and up to her breasts.

“Well I guess you won’t be needing this?” he said as he went to pick up the bra from the counter.

Her hand reached over to her bra, their hands again met.

“That’s my favourite bra” she answered.

“Well I’ll just have to hold on to it, that way I’m guaranteed that I’ll see you again.” He answered as he put the bra back in his pocket, downed his pint, then turned and walked out. Imogen sighed. She turned off the lights and exited the bar. As she was locking the door, she felt hands around her waist. Marcus spun her round and with one hand moving up behind her head taking hold of her hair, he kissed her passionately.

Come on” he said as he took her hand. She looked back but couldn’t help but follow him.

“This is crazy!” she thought to herself as they walked, Marcus a few steps in front holding her hand.

She was not the type of girl to go walking off with a stranger. Though he wasn’t really a stranger, she told herself. She took out her phone from her pocket and began texting her flatmates.

They continued to walk till they reached the centre of town, the quietness becoming taken over by the crowds queuing for the nightclub. Marcus walked straight to the front of the queue, the door staff waving him in. Pulling her close, he wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her into the club.

The club was packed, but to Imogen everyone apart from Marcus was just a blur. Standing at the bar, Marcus looked at this beauty in front of him. She began to sway to the music. Taking her hand, Marcus led Imogen onto the crowded dancefloor. They began to dance. He stepped back watching her, he watched her attentively.

Dance was the adrenaline to her heart and all at once she was moving like one with the music. Imogen knew how to dance, she came alive on the dancefloor. It was as if her body truly knew how to speak.

Her sensuality bursting through, a vibrant picture of a beautiful soul.

He was loving the way her breasts bounced when she danced, the way the movement of her hips were speaking out to him, telling him she would know how to fuck him if she straddled him.

He continued to watch her dance, she owned the dancefloor. He began to get aroused as he watched the way she rubbed her hands along her body as she danced.

He began to imagine her in his room, with him taking off her clothes. He imagined taking her breasts in his hands, squeezing her nipples and licking them, running his hands along the curve of her back and butt, caressing and pinching her round flesh.

He closed his eyes, in his head he could almost see what she would look like, down on her knees, her tongue lapping at the head of his penis, her hands pumping the shaft. Her mouth would be soft and warm, her breath coming out in hot gasps as she got turned on by the pleasure he felt from her teasing licks.

He imagined how it would feel, as she took him into her mouth. How he would reach down with one hand and start to massage her tits, running his thumb over her hard nipples, while with his other hand grabbing the back of her hair and push her head down deeper onto his cock, feeling her moaning onto it as she tried to take all of him in.

How he would run his hands over her breasts and down her belly and onto her inner thighs, sliding one finger down her clit, feeling the wetness brimming inside.

He would slip in his fingers slowly, making her squirm and thrust her hips up for more. How he would tease her, spreading her pussy lips far apart and exposing her clit, imagining how it would be swollen, bright and throbbing longing for his touch.

How he would flick his tongue over it quickly and then slowly, driving her crazy till she begged for him to enter her. How as he entered her she would throw her head back gasping.

Taking her over the brink and into an orgasm, thrusting hard and fast as she came in waves, her body clenching tighter and tighter around his cock.

The music changed. One wild night began to play. He realised with partial embarrassment that he had a very noticeable erection. He knew then that he had to have her.

She turned, her eyes caught him watching her. He dropped his eyes, her eyes followed. She noticed his bulge, his hands trying to hide it. She smiled, biting her lip, her dimples showing. He smiled back, a hopeful smile playing on his lips. He was drawn to her.

He pulled her close. Imogen could feel his cock against her. He put his hands on her hips and gently guided them to sync with his own. Brushing his lips against the nape of her neck. Her legs felt weak as his hand glided up from her waist to the back of her neck and into her hair, bringing her face close to his.

Their lips touched, softly, gently. His hand glided down between her thighs, he circled behind her. With his hands firmly on her hips, he took control of her body's rhythm. It was definitely one wild night, and it wasn’t over yet! The song changed, slowed…

Turning, she found herself leaning back into him, his breath against her neck. His hand moved from her crotch up and under her shirt, across her stomach.

She let her head fall back against his shoulder, she felt his mouth touch her neck. She closed her eyes, her breathing heavy. She broke his hold abruptly, turning to face him. Her hand glided down his back and around to his front.

Once he thought she had caught her breath, he brushed her hair out of her face and gently kissed her. Her hand glided down over his trousers delicately brushing over the bulge, her fingers tracing up and down his shaft. He wanted so desperately for her to touch him, she slyly smiled. With Imogen he became weak, he began to realize what it must be like to be submissive, he yearned for her touch.

He pulled her close. Imogen took hold of Marcus’ hand and raised it up above their heads and spun round smiling at him. She stopped facing away from him, she pushed her ass into his groin, she could feel his hard cock between her cheeks.

His hands took hold of her waist before slowly rising up until both of his hands began to massage her breasts through her t-shirt. Imogen could hear Marcus breathing heavily, as he began to kiss the side of her neck.

She spun around turning back to face him her hand again, gliding back down rubbing against his stiff cock through his trousers. She began moving her hand up and down, her other hand firmly gripping his ass. Imogen looked around, her hand fumbling with the zip of his trousers.

She unzipped it, reaching inside. Finding his hard cock through the opening in his boxers, she slowly started stroking up and down his shaft, before grasping it lightly. She looked around, feeling a little uneasy with what she was doing, this wasn’t her? Though it felt good! After a few minutes she removed her hand leaving his fly unzipped and leaned into him, he pulled her close and they danced till closing.

Chapter 6

They left the club, it was cold. Marcus took off his coat and wrapped it around Imogen as they walked along to the cliff top. They sat on one of the benches looking out to sea. It was quiet, all they could hear was the sound of the waves crashing against the shore beneath them. Imogen sat looking down, looking up then turning her gaze away at the shore below.

Both silent, unsure what to say. Imogen looked down at her fidgety fingers before lifting her hand to her face to nervously bite her nails, trying hard to resist. Shifting sideways, Marcus looked at her, taking her hand. Imogen tilted her head and shyly looked back at him. His right hand reached under her hair below her ear, his thumb caressed her cheek, she looked into his eyes. Eyes filled with such warmth, glistening in the darkness. He watched her hair blowing in the breeze, his hand reached up and he began running his fingers through her hair, brushing it off her face. He leant in and kissed her before slowly pulling away gazing into her eyes.

She dropped her guard, glimpses of her innocence began seeping through. She stared up at the star filled sky which was like a beautiful, surreal blanket above their heads.

They sat talking, their souls connecting. Imogen listened attentively as he spoke. Through their conversation Imogen learned that he was a firefighter, and how he had recently moved to Scarborough. He spoke of the 12-week training he had recently completed. He spoke passionately of how he had successfully completed the training and was about to start his first post at the local fire station. He told her how the night before, the night they met, he had just come from the station, meeting the crew, how nervous he was. He spoke of how he would be starting work at the station that following week.

She learned how before training to be a firefighter he would occasionally DJ, he told her how he’d worked in Scarborough the previous year and fell in love with the town. Thinking back to earlier that evening, she realised that was the reason they were able to skip the queues for the club. Something she could get used too.

All her life she had to be strong, to be strong enough not to risk being broken all over again, to be her own hero. But now knowing her own fragility she was determined to be strong enough to step out and take a chance on finding love. She remained guarded giving little away, afraid to open up to him. Was he the one to save her, protect her, to love her? She imagined what he would look like in his uniform, a sight which she had to see!

He put his arm around her, her head fell onto his shoulder. She listened contently as he continued to talk, overcome with the power of his words, filled with a gentleness, introduced to a world she didn't think really existed, at least not for a plain girl like her.

Imogen stared out at the horizon. She didn’t want to look up at him. Because if she looked up she would find herself at the mercy of his eyes, and those lips. Shyly she looked up to catch a glimpse of him. Marcus lifted her chin with his hand, looking at her with a deep sincerity. It wasn't the colour of her eyes that were so breath-taking, it was what was inside them.

“I can’t resist you, the moment I saw you, I knew I had to have you, I want to take you home with me. But you deserve so much more”

Were they just words? Or the beginning of something real? Every time he looked at her it felt like her world stopped, and every time he held her face between his hands it felt like he was untying all of her knots, freeing her.

“Stay here with me, so we can watch the sunrise together” He asked.

Imogen nodded, not wanting to leave, not wanting the night to end. He began to kiss her gently, stroking her soft brown hair. Being so close to her he began to realise that he could so easily fall in love with her. As she lay in his arms her mind began to wander. She began thinking back to her last love and thinking of the empty words he spoke; the hurt and the heartbreak, how his words destroyed her. Filled with fear, tears began to well up in her eyes. She tried to avoid his gaze, not wanting him to see the tears in her eyes.

He looked deep into her tear-filled eyes, wondering what was going through her mind, wanting to protect her, save her. He wiped her eyes smearing her mascara. Her eyes were brightly shining with the tears that had yet to fall. Her eyes were a blue-grey, like stormy skies which threatened to drown you in the rain to come.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, with a slight crack in her voice.

He smiled slightly, his hand caressing her face. He looked deep into her eyes, holding her gaze as he replied.

"Because you are the most beautiful thing I ever seen."

An embarrassed smile crept across her face. He kissed her and pulled her in close, never wanting to let go. Her head fell onto his chest, soothed by the sound of his heartbeat. They sat together watching the sun slowly begin to rise over the horizon.

The dawn sent shimmering rays of light over the dark placid sea, creating a golden path from the horizon to the shore beneath them. It was magical, he held her tightly, not wanting to let go.

An unforgettable memory began. She wanted to freeze the moment for as long as she could. Her face glowed not from the sun’s rays, but from the joy in her heart.

"Am I falling in love?" she asked herself.

But she couldn’t form an answer with her lips because she was too focused on his. Marcus leant in gently kissing her forehead as she rested on his shoulder. She let the moment sink in, soothe her. A new day was dawning a fresh page yet to be written. Like the dawning of this new day Imogen wondered whether this was the dawning of a new chapter in her life. With every moment spent with Marcus she began to believe a new beginning was possible.

“Time to get you home” Marcus sighed as the warmth of the sun began to hit them.

The birds were beginning to wake, the sound of the bird’s song breaking through the silence. Holding hands, he walked her back to her flat. Standing at her door, their hands parted. She turned to face the door, hesitating, looking back at him over her shoulder. His hand glided over her parked bike.

“Maybe, you could take me for a ride one day” he said with a cheeky grin on his face.

She turned back to him.

“Maybe” she replied as her hand found his.

“So, does this mean I’ll see you again” she asked nervously.

Looking deep into her eyes he reached down to her trousers. His hand gently gliding passed her crotch before reaching her pocket. He took out her phone, typed in his number, then slid her phone in her back pocket. He leant in, kissing her, a long lingering kiss, before turning to walk away. Turning back, he looked at her.

“Maybe I should keep a hold of this as a guarantee” he said as he took her bra from his trouser pocket.

She tried to grab it, but he moved his hand out of reach. Holding her hands together with one hand restraining her, he returned the bra to his pocket. Holding her hands firmly he leant in for another kiss, biting her lip as he pulled away. Imogen gasped, he stepped back breaking his hold on her wrists.

She watched as he walked away, up the alleyway to the street. Standing watching, unable to move. As he turned the corner, she stood waiting, wishing he would return. Taking her key from her pocket she opened the door quietly.

She entered the flat, everyone was still asleep. She crept along the hallway to her room and collapsed on her bed. Staring at the ceiling she remembered that day, a day that she would remember for the rest of her life.

That special day, that breezy spring day, when she let his voice soak in, engulfing her. Remembering the way their eyes met and how she didn't turn away, drowning in his smile. Imogen closed her eyes.

Memories of the day flicked through her mind like photographs. Picturing him in her mind she drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 7

Imogen woke up, to the sound of her friends chatting, she looked at the clock on her bedside table, 10.45am… She left her room walking through the living room into the kitchen to make a drink. She flicked on the kettle and stood barefoot on the cold kitchen floor waiting for it to boil. She could feel her flatmates staring at her,

“Aren’t they the same clothes you were wearing last night?” her friend asked inquisitively.

She tried hard to avert their gaze.

“I went clubbing after work, then watched the sunrise” she replied, neglecting to mention Marcus.

How could she explain it to them? The kettle boiled, and she poured her drink as her flatmates stood watching her.

“Guess you’re not coming to church with us then?” They asked.

“Not today” she replied as she sipped her hot tea. They left, leaving her behind in the empty flat.

Wrapping her fingers around the warm mug. She looked out of the window and shook her head. She knew she wanted love, but she also wanted to stand on her own two feet. Although she had undergone a lot of healing the previous year, managing to put her past behind her, believing she was ready for love; She still felt like she could not fully let go. Was he the one to free her from her chains? Could she trust him? Could she let him in?

He had captured her attention, her heart. There was something about him, and the way he made her feel. It was as if she was gravitating towards him like a magnet, unable to resist the pull towards this extraordinary man.

She went back to her room where it was nice and warm and sat on her bed. The crimson red rose lay on her bedside table, her hand brushed over the soft petals. She picked up her phone from the bedside table. As she looked at it, she thought to herself,

“Is it too soon to text him? Also what would I write?”

She put her phone down on the bed and finished her tea. She was about to go for a shower when her phone vibrated. She picked it up, realising she had received a text.

She was still tired, but she couldn’t resist those waves. A good surf would help clear her mind, and at least the lads wouldn’t quiz her about her exploits the night before!