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“Yeah,” he agrees, “I don’t know for sure yet.” The thick air around us dissipates into a casualness that’s familiar.
“Company decision?” I question and he nods.
“Yeah, something like that,” he teases and absently runs his thumb along the dew of his beer glass.
“It’s weighing on you?” I question, noting how he seems lost in the conflict of whether or not to move.
“It’s a big decision,” he says but the way he says it sounds as if it’s not so unordinary.
“So if you moved… we wouldn’t be able to meet up in hotels anymore. And have our dirty little secret rendezvous.”
“Is that what this is? I’m your dirty little secret?” he toys with me and I gently smack his arm and then return to nursing my drink.
“Seriously though, is that why this feels different?” I almost ask, why it feels like all of this is a long goodbye, but I don’t.
“Things just… they might change a little and I wasn’t sure what you’d think about it,” he tells me and a nervousness settles in my gut. Change. Sometimes when I use that word, my clients get this wide-eyed, defensive look. I can feel it coming over me.
“We don’t need to talk about it,” I’m quick to shut it down. “All I want tonight is a kiss. Is that too much for a girl to ask?” I don’t want to talk about this right now. There are too many unknowns and what ifs and I am not ready to say goodbye when he’s just sat down. I know that’s where this is headed and I’m not ready. I’m not willing to agree to goodbye. Or to going back to being friends. That’s exactly what this feels like.
“Mmm,” Nick hums and then leans close to me, kissing me and silencing my inward complaints. The kiss isn’t deep, but it’s soothing and when he breaks it, I keep my eyes closed for just a moment longer, wanting to make sure I remember it forever.
I whisper with my eyes still closed, “God, I missed you.”
NICHOLAS
Her long blonde hair is a messy halo from her running her fingers through her locks. It only adds to the sex kitten look she has going on. I love that she did it for me, even more that she’s not ashamed to admit it out loud.
If only I wasn’t afraid of losing this, these moments of inhibition with this captivating woman, I’d tell her right now what’s happening. I’d tell her everything’s changed and lay it out for her to accept or to walk away.
“Your room?” she asks, her eyes half lidded as she bites down into her bottom lip.
“Damn right,” I answer her beneath my breath, leaving cash on the bar and then helping her off her stool. Her small hand slips into mine and I lead her towards the elevators, listening to click of her heels and loving how she holds on to our clasped hands with her other, her shoulder brushing against mine as we walk, as if she needs to touch me, needs to have her body close to mine.
I get it. I more than get it. I love it. Which is why I’m not ready for change, but something had to give. I live for these moments with her, after tonight, it’ll never be the same again.
“You smell like man,” Olivia hums when the elevator dings and the doors slide open.
“Is that right?” I question, hitting the button for my floor and waiting for the doors to close as my cock hardens to an unbearable degree.
There’s a hair of an opening, before they shut completely, and I lift her hands above her head, gripping her wrists and pushing her small body against the elevator wall with mine. It’s quick, it’s instinctual. A simmering want and desire rushes through me, when she gasps and I catch it, sealing my mouth over hers with a kiss.
“Nick,” she moans in my mouth and I love it. She rocks her body against my length and my response is a deep groan of need that vibrates through my chest.
Nipping her bottom lip, I release her the second I feel the elevator slow. I only have a moment to adjust my cock in my pants and stare down at her breathless, sagging against the wall.
“Two more minutes,” I tell her, hoping to ease the ache so obvious on her face. With my hand out, she takes it, righting herself and the doors open. No one’s here to watch us, no one in the hall, but still, we’re professional. Her clients could be on this floor after all, and she prefers discretion, apart from a kiss here and there.
I can’t count the number of times I’ve slipped a key card into the door with Olivia behind me, caressing my arm and waiting patiently for the soft beep and gentle click of the door being opened. It’s a heady rush each and every time. The anticipation, the desire that flows freely between us. From the first time, a drunken night with a goodnight kiss turned into more, to two weeks ago, it only gets better with Olivia.
She leaves me wanting more.
Pushing the door open, I motion for her to enter first, and whether she’s tipsy from the wine or drunk on lust, Olivia slides past me, making sure her curves brush against me as she does.
Her hips sway and the simmer in my blood only gets hotter.
The door closes with a resounding click and I don’t have to command her, she turns at the foot of the bed, facing me as she unzips her dress and lets it fall from the curve of her shoulders down to a puddle of fine fabric at her feet. She makes a move to take her heels off next and I stop her.
“No,” I order, “keep them on tonight.” My voice is deep and I let her hear every ounce of need I have for her. Her lips part just slightly, her breasts rising with the quick inhale in the quiet room, and I swear my cock leaks precum at the sight of her, turned on by the simple fact that I’ll fuck her tonight in those sex kitten heels.
