Rainy Afternoon in Soho

AFTER DARK DIARIES | BREATHLESS | RAINY AFTERNOON IN SOHO

Rainy Afternoon in Soho

She only stepped inside to get out of the rain. Staying for coffee was sensible. Everything after that was not.

By half past three, Elena had had enough of London.

Enough of meetings that should have been emails. Enough of people saying circle back as though it meant something. Enough of a client in Covent Garden who had spent forty minutes disagreeing with a campaign he’d approved himself the previous week.

Then, as she walked towards Soho, the sky opened.

Not drizzle. Not the polite sort of rain Londoners pretended wasn’t happening.

A proper downpour.

Within seconds, umbrellas appeared from nowhere, pavements became rivers and people began running for doorways. Elena wrestled with her own umbrella for perhaps twenty metres before a gust of wind turned it inside out.

“Oh, brilliant.”

A passing cyclist sprayed water across her ankles.

Even better.

By the time she reached Frith Street, her shoes were wet, the bottom of her coat was dripping and whatever patience she’d started the day with had disappeared somewhere around Shaftesbury Avenue.

Then she saw the café.

Small. Warm. Fogged windows.

Perfect.

Somewhere Dry

A bell sounded as Elena pushed through the door.

Warm air wrapped around her immediately, carrying the smell of coffee and something sweet from the cake counter. Soft jazz played from speakers she couldn’t see.

She folded her useless umbrella and apologised to the woman behind the counter for the puddle forming around her feet.

“Don’t worry,” the woman said. “Half of Soho is currently dripping on my floor.”

Elena laughed for what felt like the first time all afternoon.

She ordered a latte and found a booth beside the window.

Outside, London blurred behind streaming glass. Red buses passed like moving smudges of colour while pedestrians hurried beneath umbrellas.

Elena removed her coat, pushed damp hair away from her face and checked her phone.

Three emails from work.

She turned it face down.

Tomorrow’s problem.

Her coffee arrived.

She wrapped both hands around the cup and finally relaxed.

That was when she noticed him.

Not because he was staring.

Because he’d looked away.

He was sitting alone two tables across, perhaps mid-thirties, with dark hair that had clearly been caught in the same rain as hers and the beginnings of stubble along his jaw. A navy coat hung over the back of his chair. His sleeves were rolled slightly, and an abandoned espresso sat beside an open notebook.

Elena glanced away.

A minute later, she looked again.

So did he.

This time neither of them pretended otherwise.

He smiled.

Elena found herself smiling back.

Interesting.

The Man Across the Café

For several minutes, nothing happened.

Which somehow made Elena more aware of him.

She caught herself wondering what was in the notebook.

Then whether he was waiting for someone.

Then why she cared.

She picked up her phone again.

Another email.

Absolutely not.

“You look like you’re considering throwing that through the window.”

Elena looked up.

The stranger was standing beside her booth.

She glanced at her phone.

“Would that be frowned upon?”

“Probably. Although judging by your expression, I’d support you.”

She laughed.

He gestured towards the empty seat opposite her.

“May I?”

Normally, Elena would have found an excuse.

Normally, she didn’t invite strange men to sit opposite her in cafés simply because they had attractive faces and made her laugh.

Apparently, today was developing its own rules.

“Go on, then.”

He sat.

“Alex.”

“Elena.”

“No laptop?”

“I’m rebelling.”

“Dangerous.”

“You have no idea.”

He glanced towards the rain.

“Bad day?”

“Bad meeting.”

“Same thing?”

“Frequently.”

That made him laugh.

And unexpectedly, conversation became easy.

One Coffee Became Two

Alex was an architect working from a studio in Shoreditch. He had been in Soho looking at a potential refurbishment project before the rain trapped him.

Elena worked in marketing.

“Ah,” he said. “So you’re responsible for making people want things they don’t need.”

“That’s one interpretation.”

“What’s the other?”

“I make people realise they desperately need things they previously didn’t know existed.”

“Much more respectable.”

“Obviously.”

They talked about work for a while, then stopped talking about work altogether.

Music. Restaurants. London. Travelling. The worst first dates they’d ever endured.

Alex’s involved a woman who had brought her mother.

Elena refused to believe him until he swore it was true.

“Why?”

“She wanted a second opinion.”

“On you?”

“Apparently.”

“And?”

“Her mother liked me.”

Elena nearly spilled her coffee.

The café gradually emptied around them.

Outside, the rain showed no sign of stopping.

At some point Alex ordered another espresso.

Elena ordered another latte.

Neither acknowledged that this meant they had both decided to stay.

When Flirting Stops Being Accidental

It changed slowly.

At first, Elena couldn’t have identified exactly when.

Perhaps it was when Alex leaned closer to hear her over the coffee machine and didn’t move quite as far away afterwards.

Maybe it was when their knees touched beneath the table.

Neither apologised.

Or perhaps it was simply the way he looked at her when she spoke, as though he was interested in the answer rather than waiting for his turn.

“You’ve been looking at me,” Elena said eventually.

Alex raised an eyebrow.

“So have you.”

“I asked first.”

“You didn’t actually ask anything.”

She smiled.

“Fine. Why have you been looking at me?”

He considered his answer.

“When you came in, you looked furious.”

“How flattering.”

“I wasn’t finished.”

“Please, rescue yourself.”

“You were soaked, angry with your phone and muttering something about London.”

“I was having a moment.”

“You were.”

His smile faded slightly.

“Then you took your coat off.”

Elena held his gaze.

“And?”

“And I started wondering what you looked like without the rest of it.”

There it was.

Not disguised as a joke.

Not quite crude either.

Just honest.

Heat moved through her despite the rain cooling the window beside them.

“That’s very direct.”

“You asked.”

She did.

A Bad Idea Begins

The space beneath the table suddenly seemed smaller.

Alex’s knee rested against hers.

This time the contact was unquestionably deliberate.

Elena could have moved.

She didn’t.

“What were you thinking?” he asked.

“When?”

“When you kept looking at me.”

She took a sip of coffee.

“Maybe I was wondering about the notebook.”

“Liar.”

“Maybe I liked your coat.”

“Definitely a liar.”

Elena smiled into her cup.

His hand came to rest on her knee.

That changed things again.

She looked down at it, then back at him.

“Careful.”

“Do you want me to move?”

The answer should have been obvious.

They had met less than an hour ago.

She knew his first name, his profession, his opinion of overpriced restaurants and the fact that his worst date had required maternal approval.

That was hardly a comprehensive background check.

“No.”

His thumb moved slowly against her stocking.

Elena’s pulse quickened.

There were still two other customers in the café and the woman behind the counter was stacking cups.

Alex’s fingers travelled slightly higher.

Elena caught his wrist.

He stopped immediately.

For a second, neither spoke.

Then she leaned towards him.

“Not here.”

His eyes darkened.

“My flat is ten minutes away.”

Elena should have thought about that.

Instead, she asked, “Walking?”

“In this?”

She glanced at the downpour.

“Could be memorable.”

Running Through Soho

They paid separately.

Elena liked that for some reason.

The moment they stepped outside, the rain hit them.

“Oh, fuck!”

Alex laughed.

“You suggested walking.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“Too late.”

He caught her hand and they ran.

Down Frith Street, around people huddled beneath umbrellas, through puddles they stopped bothering to avoid.

Elena’s hair was soaked again within seconds.

Alex nearly collided with a man carrying three takeaway pizzas.

By the time they reached Old Compton Street, both were laughing.

“This is your ten minutes?” Elena shouted.

“I may have lied.”

“You’re an architect. Aren’t measurements supposed to be important?”

“Distance isn’t my speciality.”

They reached an awning and stopped beneath it.

Both were breathing hard.

Rain thundered onto the pavement inches away.

Alex looked at her.

Elena became aware that he was still holding her hand.

For a moment, she thought he would kiss her.

She wanted him to.

Instead, he pushed a wet strand of hair away from her face.

“We can still stop.”

The question surprised her.

Maybe that was why her answer came so easily.

“I don’t want to.”

His thumb brushed her cheek.

“Good.”

He took her hand again.

“Come on.”

Behind His Door

Alex’s flat occupied part of a converted warehouse.

Exposed brick. High ceilings. Huge windows overlooking wet Soho rooftops.

Elena had barely registered any of it before the door closed behind them.

Then Alex kissed her.

The restraint from the café disappeared.

His mouth was hungry against hers, one hand catching her waist while the other slid into her damp hair.

Elena pushed his coat from his shoulders.

“You took your time.”

“I was trying to behave.”

“How did that go?”

“Badly.”

She laughed against his mouth.

Then he kissed her again and she stopped laughing.

Her back met the wall.

Alex’s mouth moved to her neck.

“You’re fucking beautiful.”

The words were almost lost against her skin.

Elena threaded her fingers through his damp hair as his teeth grazed her neck.

Her blouse clung wetly to her body.

Alex caught the front of it.

Several buttons came free faster than intended.

One bounced across the wooden floor.

Elena stared at it.

Alex froze.

“Sorry.”

She looked at him.

Then at the button.

“You owe me a blouse.”

“I’ll buy you one.”

“You don’t even know my size.”

His gaze dropped.

“I could guess.”

She pulled him back towards her.

“Shut up.”

Against the Window

They reached the enormous window almost by accident.

Cold glass touched Elena’s back while Alex’s body pressed warmly against hers.

Outside, Soho carried on beneath them.

Umbrellas moved along the pavement. Taxis crawled through wet streets. Lights reflected in puddles.

Nobody down there knew they existed.

Alex kissed along her throat as his hands moved over her body.

Her bra came loose.

His mouth found her breast, tongue circling her nipple before sucking it into his mouth.

Elena gasped and gripped his shoulders.

“Fuck.”

He looked up.

“Too much?”

“No.”

She pulled him closer.

“Don’t stop.”

So he didn’t.

Wet clothes gradually disappeared onto the floor.

Elena opened his shirt and ran her hands across his chest before reaching for his trousers.

When she wrapped her hand around his cock, Alex’s forehead dropped briefly against hers.

“Jesus.”

“Still glad you came over to my table?”

“Ask me again in five minutes.”

She stroked him more firmly.

“I might not wait five minutes.”

Neither did he.

What They Had Come Here For

Alex lifted her.

Elena wrapped her legs around his waist as he pressed her back against the glass.

He paused before entering her.

Their eyes met.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Then he pushed inside.

Elena’s breath caught.

For several seconds, he barely moved, allowing her body to adjust around him.

Then she tightened her legs.

“Alex.”

He understood.

His first thrust was slow.

The next wasn’t.

Elena clung to him as the rhythm built, the cold glass against her back contrasting with the heat between them.

Outside, rain streamed down the window.

Inside, nothing felt cold anymore.

His mouth found hers.

The strange thing was how quickly the unfamiliarity disappeared.

An hour earlier, she’d never seen this man before.

Now she knew the sound he made when she clenched around him.

She knew how his breathing changed when she dragged her nails lightly across his shoulders.

And he was learning her just as quickly.

No Longer Strangers

They made it as far as the couch.

Alex dropped to his knees between Elena’s thighs.

She looked down at him.

“You’ve been thinking about this since the café?”

“Earlier.”

“Earlier?”

“When you were glaring at your phone.”

“You have a strange response to angry women.”

His mouth touched her inner thigh.

“Apparently.”

Then his tongue found her.

Elena’s head fell back.

Whatever clever response she’d been preparing disappeared.

He took his time now.

The urgency that had carried them through the door changed into something slower and more deliberate.

His tongue worked over her until she stopped trying to stay quiet.

Elena gripped the couch as pleasure built.

“Alex…”

He didn’t stop.

Her thighs tightened around him.

The orgasm hit hard enough to make her cry out, her whole body trembling while he continued until she pushed weakly at his shoulder.

“Come here.”

He rose.

Elena pushed him backwards onto the couch.

“My turn.”

She knelt between his legs and took his cock into her mouth.

His hand went immediately into her wet hair.

She sucked him slowly at first, enjoying the change in his expression, then took him deeper.

“Fuck, Elena.”

That was better.

She liked hearing her name like that.

Alex let her continue until his breathing became ragged.

Then he caught her gently beneath the arms and pulled her up.

“If you keep doing that, this afternoon is going to become considerably shorter.”

Elena straddled him.

“Who said I was in a hurry?”

Everything They Hadn’t Said

They weren’t.

That surprised her.

What had begun with urgency became an afternoon neither seemed interested in ending.

They fucked again on the floor, Elena on all fours while Alex moved behind her, one hand at her hip and the other between her thighs.

She came again with her face pressed against her folded arms, trying and failing to silence herself.

Later, they finally reached the bedroom.

By then the rain had softened.

The light outside was changing too, afternoon beginning to give way to evening.

Elena lay beside Alex on rumpled sheets.

Neither had dressed.

For the first time since leaving the café, they weren’t touching.

“This is the bit where one of us is supposed to say something awkward,” she said.

Alex turned his head towards her.

“I can if you’d like.”

“Please don’t.”

“Fine.”

Silence.

Then Elena started laughing.

Alex did too.

“What?”

“This is ridiculous.”

“What part?”

“All of it. I was going home.”

“So was I.”

“I don’t do this.”

“Neither do I.”

She gave him a look.

“That sounded suspiciously rehearsed.”

“It did, didn’t it?”

“Very.”

“I withdraw it.”

“Good.”

He rolled onto his side.

“What do you normally do on a Thursday afternoon?”

“Complain about clients.”

“Less fun.”

“Usually.”

His fingers traced slowly along her waist.

Elena watched him.

Something had shifted.

Slower

When they kissed again, there was no urgency.

That should have made it less exciting.

Instead, it made Elena strangely nervous.

Alex moved over her and entered her slowly.

No window. No frantic hands. No race to get naked.

Just his body against hers and his eyes holding hers.

Elena wrapped her legs around him.

Their rhythm developed gradually.

He kissed her between thrusts.

She touched his face.

And for the first time that afternoon, Elena became conscious that this was no longer behaving like anonymous sex.

That wasn’t the agreement.

Although, she realised, there had never actually been an agreement.

They were two strangers who had met over coffee.

That was all.

Yet when Alex lowered his forehead to hers, she closed her eyes and held him closer.

The orgasm came slowly this time.

It built rather than crashed.

Elena whispered his name as her body tightened around him.

Alex followed soon afterwards, burying himself deep with a broken groan before collapsing beside her.

For a while, neither spoke.

Rain whispered against the windows.

When the Rain Finally Stopped

Elena woke sometime after six.

The room had darkened.

For several confused seconds she didn’t know where she was.

Then she felt Alex beside her.

She smiled.

His eyes opened.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You fell asleep.”

“So did you.”

“That makes it less embarrassing.”

Elena reached for her phone on the bedside table.

Eleven messages.

Two missed calls.

She stared at the screen.

Alex winced.

“Work?”

“My sister.”

“Worse?”

“Potentially.”

She sat up and looked towards the window.

The rain had finally stopped.

London shone beneath a wet evening sky.

“I should go.”

Alex nodded.

“Probably.”

Neither moved.

Elena looked at him.

“You’re supposed to make this easy.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

She smiled.

Eventually she found her clothes.

One blouse button remained missing.

Alex helped search for it and failed.

“You genuinely owe me a new blouse.”

“I’ll need your number for that.”

Elena stopped.

There it was.

The question neither had asked.

One More Coffee

Ten minutes later, Elena stood beside the front door wearing her damp coat over her damaged blouse.

Alex leaned against the wall.

“So.”

“So.”

“This was…”

He seemed to search for the right word.

Elena rescued him.

“Unexpected.”

“Very.”

“And reckless.”

“Definitely.”

“And I’m fairly sure I left my umbrella in the café.”

“It was broken.”

“That’s not the point.”

He smiled.

Neither mentioned the obvious thing.

Finally Alex took out his phone.

“I wasn’t joking about replacing the blouse.”

“Of course not.”

“I’m a man of principle.”

“After what happened against your window, I’m not entirely convinced.”

He laughed.

Elena gave him her number.

Alex typed it in.

Then he looked at the screen.

“Elena.”

“Yes?”

“I don’t actually want to buy you a blouse.”

“I know.”

“I’d rather buy you another coffee.”

She looked at him for a moment.

Outside, water still dripped steadily from the rooftops.

This afternoon was supposed to have been simple.

A stranger.

An impulsive decision.

A few hours that would become one of those stories she occasionally remembered when London turned wet and grey.

Instead, Elena reached for the door and glanced back at him.

“One coffee.”

Alex smiled.

“Just one?”

She stepped into the hallway.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

Elena looked over her shoulder.

“Whether it rains.”