Protecting Miss Dawes - a job like any other

Chapter 10: Charles

Ms. Dawes said her good byes and we got into the car with Terry. I asked him to drive to the flat, but she leaned forward, asking;

"Could we pass a drive-in and get some fast-food to bring with us?"

"You're hungry?" I was surprised as she just had been through a dinner.

"Yes, starving", she smiled.

"Burger King? There's one nearby."

"That will do."

When we stopped, she placed her order in the microphone, then turned to me and asked if I wanted anything. I was actually starving too, since I had not eaten since before we went to her flat to get prepared, so after a second's hesitation I made an order. I was not sure if she would want me to keep her company eating, or if she expected me to eat it on my way home but I thought that I would know soon enough, and I needed to eat something either way.

When we got up to the flat, she put her paper bags down on the coffee table by the sofa and nodded to me to do the same, so then I reckoned she expected me to stay.

"I hadn't figured you as someone who eats junk-food, so far I have thought of you as the healthy-salad-kind-of-person."

"This is going back to my roots. I was raised on junk-food but less exclusive than Burger King", she smirked.

"Really? Anyway, I'm impressed by your appetite, especially as you're quite small" I glanced at her bags, she had ordered at least as much as I. "After all, you have eaten a three-course meal tonight."

"That's where you're mistaken. I ate almost nothing during dinner", she laughed. "I had this idea that it would make me look pregnant in this dress. I mean, I love it, but it shows everything. There's no way to hide a swollen stomach here."

She looked down on her own body and so did I, and could only silently agree to that, yes, the dress really showed every curve of her slender body.

"I need to get changed before I eat", she concluded. I thought that would be a relief, so she would wear something less tantalising – but then she turned her back to me, enhancing my predicament instead of putting an end to it.

"Will you help me with the zipper? Sorry to ask, but I'm not sure I can manage on my own without destroying the dress."

She did not say it in a seductive, husky voice, just her normal one, so I felt completely certain that all there was to it was that she needed help. Still, I had to focus on my fingers to make sure they did not tremble slightly as I unzipped her. I did it slowly, partly because I did not want to risk getting stuck in the delicate fabric and destroy the dress, but I must admit that I also did it slowly because I could not help enjoying the moment. I made sure not to touch her skin, I did not want to be creepy and scare her off – she had enough of that with Rob and I would never want to be that guy. I just pulled the zipper down slowly, touching the fabric softly and saw her bare back appear, probably skipped a breath when I noticed that my guess earlier had been correct and she was indeed not wearing any bra. I would have loved in that moment to let my fingers caress her soft skin, to push the dress off from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, but instead I took a step back and said with surprisingly steady voice;

"There you go."

"Thanks, I'll be right back."

When she returned a few minutes later, she had wiped off the red lipstick and taken away the clasp in her hair, so it now fell loose over both her shoulders. She was wearing a pair of joggers and the West Ham t-shirt I had seen hanging over a chair before. She was about four inches shorter as she now was barefoot. She still looked amazing but in a more approachable way.