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I knew what his stare meant.
If it were up to me, we would’ve been back in bed, and I would’ve opened my legs for him again. I wanted to feel him inside me. I wanted his hot lips on my neck and his warm breaths entangled with mine.
I wanted to feel his body on me and his hard-on buried between my walls.
We made do with a soft touch and a kiss.
We kissed unhurriedly and passionately. And we were more than sated. There were no secrets between us except the secret we had vowed to keep.
And then we broke the kiss and pulled apart.
I had the scent of his cologne on my lips while he had the aroma of my perfume embedded in his skin.
And then we went silent.
We checked out of that hotel, climbed into his car, and headed downtown.
Once we reached the hotel, I asked him to stop his ride and let me climb out before he pulled up in front of the entrance.
We did just that. His ride stayed behind while I took a detour to the pool, and I entered the hotel later with a group as if I’d just come from a walk.
And here I am, finally, in my room.
I breathe. I smile. I look at the sky.
The remnants of a glorious sunset celebrate a rollercoaster of a day, bringing in the evening––a metaphysical poem of lights encased in darkness.
I set my things on the bed and reach behind my back to pull my zipper down when I hear a knock on the door.
Already?
Smiling, I go to the entrance. I don’t know why I expect Alejandro.
I swing it open. A delivery guy flashes a clipped smile at me instead.
“Raven Wilson?” he asks, holding a shopping bag.
“Yes…” I murmur, assuming that I’d left something at the other hotel.
Or maybe I’d bought something, and the merchandise needed to be delivered. And I completely forgot about it.
Or Alejandro bought something else for me.
The man hands me the shopping bag. He thanks me and moves away.
I remain frozen for a few more moments before I step back and close the door.
Wrestling with a bad feeling, I set the shopping bag on the coffee table, eyeing the designer name. It must have to do with my shopping trip today. Right? What else?
I reach inside, wrestle with the swishy paper, and pull out a beautiful red dress.
My mouth falls open.
It’s the same design, a duplicate of the red dress Francisco has given me as a gift. The same designer, style, and size. Brand new. Perfect.
A card comes with the dress.
I flip it open, my heart racing.
