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I licked my lips, and he stared at me. “See something you like?” he asked, catching the look in my eye.
“Yes. Very much so.”
“Then why are you still sitting there? Bring that ass here.”
His words were crude, and I wanted to smack his ass for them.
So, I did.
He laughed and gripped my cheeks, lifting me up and against the slippery wall. His smile faded along with mine, and he kissed me.
I wanted to ask him about Janine, but she had no place here between us now. So, I kissed him and forgot about the world one more time.
Jake pressed inside of me slowly, taking his time. I reached for the steam handle and turned it off. The heat, along with Jake, was making my head spin. Slowly, he made love to me, taking his time to hold and caress me with every stroke. It could have lasted for hours, as I’d lost track of time. Only when my climax built to a peak and I released the last of my stress, did I finally realize my fingertips were tight and wrinkled against his back.
“Let’s get you out of the rain,” he smiled, and I dropped my head onto his shoulder as he carried me out.
He passed me a robe and wrapped a towel around his hips. “I’ll get dressed and meet you in the kitchen. You must be starving.”
“I can eat,” I said with a weak smile.
He nodded and walked out the door.
I dressed in a pair of light gray lounge pants and a white sweater. I blow-dried my hair quickly and twisted it into a bun.
Jake was already in the kitchen making a sandwich. “Mayo or no mayo?” he asked, holding up a butter knife.
“Mayo,” I said.
He spread the mayonnaise onto both sides of the bread, cut off a piece of lettuce, and added tomato, some Swiss cheese, and a thick slice of ham.
“This looks so professional,” I teased when he passed me the plate.
“I cut off the crust. It steps it up a notch.” He winked at me, and I laughed at his playfulness.
That was a new side of Jake I hadn’t seen yet. Playful Jake. I liked it.
“So,” I started, taking advantage of his good mood, knowing I was going to kick myself afterward. “Who was that woman?”
“She’s no one.”
“Well, she is someone.”
“I meant no one important.”
He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed slowly. I did the same. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Sure, a diet soda if you have it,” I said.
“Coming right up.”
He turned to grab a drink from the bar fridge and placed it in front of me with a glass.
“Thanks.” I sipped my drink, preparing to ask my next question. But he spoke first.
“Listen, I know it’s sudden, but what do you think about going to Paris tomorrow? We can make it a long weekend.”
He grinned and took another bite of his sandwich. I watched him as he waited enthusiastically for my response. Was he serious?
