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“Did you fuck Vanessa?” I blurt out, knowing he hasn’t.
“She would have told you if I hit on her. Who have you been keeping time with?”
“No one.”
“There were like two of Clyde’s women, but the staff yelled at me. Then there was a club girl and a bartender in LA.”
I’m shocked, but not. It’s been a while. And well, he’s a guy. Women can shut that shit down for a stretch at a time, but dudes usually can’t. “Bimbos. Power fuckers. It’s ok, I’m sure your ego and cock needed it.”
He steps in front of me and walks backward. His voice borders on anger but is laced with sarcasm. “Is it ok? It’s ok that I was devastated. You weren’t in my bed, under me, or in my life. I went looking for someone to make the bleeding stop for just a moment. Is it ok that you shut yourself off?”
I draw in a breath. I can’t handle what he’s saying to me.
He continues, “It’s ok that I can’t get you off my mind long enough to get it up for a bevy of willing women? That’s ok?” I giggle at him, and he continues, “Or I can’t get it up unless I imagine your eyes, your hips, and thighs. That’s ok? It’s a sickness. I have Tess fever. I can’t work enough to purge you. I can’t invent more work to do. No distance running route has done it. Been up and down Runyon Canyon hundreds of times, and still, you persist. In my mind, in my bed, in my dreams, you’re always there. I can’t find a situation without direction because it always points back to you.”
He steals my breath from me with every word. “Please stop.”
“Not sure I can. You shut me down. You cut me off from my drug of choice cold turkey, and now I don’t have the luxury of stopping. You’re in front of me.”
Time to protect my heart. “You still haven’t said anything. You want me, and that’s fantastic because I fucking want you too. But as for wanting me in every aspect of your life, I won’t pay the price for Charlotte’s sins any longer.”
He inhales sharply. “I’m not sure I can stop saying these things to you. You’re the only safe place in the world for me.”
I take my hands from his and turn to face him. I place them on my hips. He puts his hand in his pockets and shifts his weight.
“You either have filthy, dirty unattached sex with me and leave when we’re done or go right now. I can’t make this emotional for you. I can’t make it ok for you. I can’t do that to myself. I go home, unencumbered by more heartache. The pain of the first month was too dark and twisty. I can’t be that girl again.”
We’re at the hotel, standing out front, and he takes me in his arms. Over my shoulder, he yells, “Fuck! Fuck. Fine. Just fuck me.”
“I offered that. You hinted you wanted love.”
He laughs at me. “Sorry, with you, that’s never going to be off the table. But for the moment, I’d very much like to mine your rose gold.”
I smirk as we catch the same drift, and he nips at my neck. “There you are. The piece that was missing. My cabana boy from Punta Mita. Focus on the carnal, and please, for both of our sakes, leave everything else here.” As we walk towards the hotel, he whistles at the valet, who runs over confused. We have no car. I smile oddly at this gorgeous and sexy as fuck man. His sport coat is a summer plaid paired with cream linen pants that hug every inch of him. He’s wearing a crisp light grey shirt and a subtle striped tie that somehow matches the beige plaid that plays off his deep tan. I couldn’t write a sexier man, and that’s my job.
“Yes, sir?”
He hands her $50. “Can you do me a huge favor? We need to check our emotional baggage for the night. We’ll pick it up in the morning.”
She’s thoroughly confused, and I lean in. “We’d really appreciate it. We really want to have nasty sex but avoid the ties of history, emotion, and expectation. Please be the strong woman I know you are and hold all that shit for us.” I hand her another $50.00.
The valet pockets the cash. “It will be right here when you’re done.”
There’s a crowd waiting for the elevator, and the lobby’s music is thumping like a club. I look at him to the side of me. “Are you ready for this?” I want to have lots of sex with him. I want to not walk straight for a week. He moves behind me and moves my hair to the side, exposing my neck. He leans down and kisses me the way that used to drive me insane. Then he moves to my ear so only I can hear him.
“These sheer sparkly stockings are fucking amazing. But you hate hose. You always said she couldn’t breathe cooped up in pantyhose or tights. It’s hot outside. Why the hose?”
I turn slightly to his ear. “Not hose.”
“I’m confused.”
I lower my voice, and as breathy as I can, I say with more emphasis and a sly smile, “rose gold.”
69
Alex
I groan and say, “Oh my, damn. My birthday present from France?” She nods. I run my hands down the back of her thighs, feeling for clasps. “Fuck me. Good God.” It’s the garter belt I’ve never seen. I’m raging with jealousy right now. I can’t believe she has these on, and I’ve never seen them. Fuck. I’m so hard and digging into her back. My cock is screaming. I’m going to fuck her with these still on. Oh, shit, unless someone else already has. I’m back at her ear, nipping hard and asking an urgent question, “Who else has seen them?”
