But my mind went in a whole different direction as I watched her standing there on the other side of the elevator, one long leg tapping with impatience for the door to open. She looked down at her shoes and in a swift motion, I pressed the button for the floor of my penthouse room. Fuck business.
The urge to be near him in the elevator was strong but I moved as far away as I could. The sexual tension between us was crackling with electricity that was almost visible in the tiny space. Still, I ignored him and pretended my heart wasn’t galloping from my chest, or even the thought of being in such a small space alone with him didn’t make my skin burn. The ride up to the lobby was interminable and I kept willing the elevator car to stop. I looked at the panel, expecting to see the L lit up but was surprised to see the letter P instead.
“Where are we going?” I asked Jackson with suspicion.
I pushed away from the wall and looked at the display as if it held all of the answers to my questions.
“We need to talk,” he said cryptically
“I thought you said dinner was starting?” My hackles were going up because I wasn’t sure how much longer I could be alone with him and maintain my resolve to keep everything business. “Besides, we have nothing to talk about.”
“It is, but they won’t miss us,” he said gruffly. I saw something flicker in his eye, something that made my stomach flip before he started to move towards me. “And you’re right, I’m done talking.”
My heart rate picked up and my stomach dropped. He stopped directly in front of me, his arms caging me in as he leaned against the wall behind me. I was panting like I had just run five miles. What was he going to do? This wasn’t part of the deal.
“Aren’t you the guest of honor?” I said because I was sure someone would notice his absence.
I tried to get out from under his arms but he wouldn’t budge. My heart was beating so rapidly, like it was trying to escape the cage of my chest.
Jackson snorted. “I don’t want to talk, Liza.” He growled the words at me through gritted teeth.
My heart rate somehow kicked up even higher. He was too close and he smelled too good.
The elevator finally stopped at the top floor, dinging its arrival as the doors slid open. Jackson stepped out and away from me. I could finally breathe and I stood gasping for air for a moment.
I hesitated because no good could come of me following him out of this elevator and into a hotel room. Part of me was urging myself forward, telling me I could do this—get the lust and desire for this man I barely knew out of my system, so I could get on with my life. The other part, the logical part, was telling me this would only complicate things more and I wasn’t someone who could detach sex from emotions. I wanted to punch that part of me though because I was tired of being this person who only let logic rule their brain and lived a boring life.
Look what your illogical self got you into four weeks ago, Liza, the stupid, rational bitch murmured as I did finally step from the elevator.
I ignored her and cursed her in my head as I followed Jackson from the elevator and down the hall to the only door on that floor. The penthouse. He produced a key card from his pocket, unlocked the door, and held it open for me. The look on his face told me everything I needed to know. I faltered again, not entering the room right away because once I did, there would be no turning back from it.
I wouldn’t be able to resist him the way I had been most of the night, save for while we were in the limo when I took a chance on letting him come clean. But he had come clean, only moments ago in the basement, and yet I was still here. Still playing out the charade we agreed upon while telling myself I wasn’t going to get involved with a man I barely knew but felt an unnerving desire and draw towards.
My life no longer made sense, here in this hotel, on this evening, in my borrowed dress and my brand-new shoes I couldn’t afford. I didn’t know who I was anymore but I was still contemplating being her because the person I was before, before I met Jackson, didn’t feel half as alive as this new version of me did.
Was I willing to risk my heart and everything I was to feel alive for one night, or if he still wanted to continue the sham of a relationship, for one month? The answer to that question never came because I didn’t let it. It was too heavy for this night, where I could already tell I was losing a part of myself to this beautiful man whose soul spoke to mine like no one else’s.
“Are you coming?” he asked, breaking up my litany of thoughts.
The way he said it was almost as if he knew what I was thinking, or had been thinking the same thing and had to confirm if this was all real and we were going to make this choice.
This night was different than the last time he led me to this room. Last time, we were anonymous, concealed. I didn’t know he was famous and he didn’t know I was a mousy kindergarten teacher who never had one-night stands. It was different because this was a choice we were making to be with each other as we were, without being able to hide.
That part scared me most of all, but I didn’t back away because I didn’t want to. Not this time.
“Yes,” I said as I walked towards him and this time, when he extended his hand, I took it because I needed to hold onto something so I didn’t waver again.
We walked into the room, the same hotel room from the night we met, and he only stopped long enough to close the door behind me. Jackson didn’t release my hand and guided me to the bedroom where I previously had the most amazing sexual experience of my life. Butterflies rioted in my stomach as he closed that door behind us.
Finally dropping my hand, he turned to me, standing directly in front of the bed and without talking, reached for me. I let him because I’d been fighting a losing battle from the moment our eyes met on that dance floor. He slid my dress over my head, slowly, and I thought I would combust from the torture of waiting for his hands on my bare flesh. Tossing the dress aside, he stood back for a minute, looking at me as I stood, practically naked in front of him. The only thing blocking my nakedness from his wandering eyes was a scrap of lace at my crotch.
Jackson ambled towards me again, reaching for me, but I backed up. It was my turn to undress him. Grabbing his shirt in my hands, I tugged him forward, but he pulled away from me.
“Don’t,” he said, removing my hands from his shirt.
“Let me,” I said and grabbed the material again.
I saw the reluctance in his face as he nodded, dropping his hands to his sides. Last time, he did all of the undressing but I wasn’t letting him get away with it tonight. Even though I didn’t know him very well, I knew Jackson liked to be in control. But I wanted to take some of that control back to give myself the courage to get through this night.
I unbuttoned his shirt slowly and watched him grit his teeth as I slid it down his arms. His bronzed skin gleamed in the dim light of the bedroom and I didn’t resist the urge to slide my hands over his muscular chest and down his washboard abs. Jackson emitted a low growl as I grabbed the waistband of his pants and undid the buckle of his belt, pulling it out and tossing it where my dress lay to the side. Every movement I made was slow and deliberate, and I relished in his intakes of breath and groans.
“I’m not sure how much more of this I can take, Liza,” he murmured, and I smiled up at him demurely as he scowled back at me.
“I’m almost done,” I said and he growled again but didn’t try to take over the way I could see he wanted to.
I needed this, to feel like I had some power over him for once. Tonight, he didn’t get to have the upper hand. Not yet.
Undoing his pants, I slid them down slowly, letting my hands brush the outside of his rock-hard thighs as I went. He emitted another sound, which turned to a groan when I stood back up, cupping him through his boxer briefs.
“What are you doing to me,” he ground out through his teeth, inhaling sharply, as I slipped a hand into the waistband of his boxers.
Jackson grabbed my wrist and I looked up at him. “No, I’ll los
e it if you touch me,” he said as he pulled my hand out.
He didn’t let go of my wrist though, and as quickly as he pulled my hand away from him, he flipped me around so I was flat on my back on the bed.
“Oh!” I cried out with surprise because I didn’t expect it to happen.
Jackson crawled on top of me, his body pressed to mine; the only thing separating us was our underwear. I could feel the heat and hardness of him through his boxers. His mouth came down over mine again and I spread my legs wide so he could settle between them. His erection pressed into my soft heat and if it weren’t for the barrier between us, I would have thrust up so he could be inside of me.
My brain scrambled as his hands moved down my waist while his tongue pressed at the seam of my lips for entrance. The sensations made me feel fragile and combustible all at once. He slid my panties off, tossing them somewhere in the room, before lifting himself enough to remove his boxer briefs.
Settling back between my legs, he pushed up on his hands and looked down at me. He was searching my face, asking me if this was all right, even though we were already bare to each other and tangled together. My heart clenched. How did I find this man, one who was still worried about the way I felt when he was inches from being inside of me? How was he able to keep himself so closed off yet be so in tune with my feelings? His dual personalities made my head spin, throwing me more off-kilter than I was before.
I gave him an almost imperceptible nod to let him know I was okay, then heard the tearing of a condom package and watched with awe as he rolled the condom down his thick erection. Once he was done, he lay back on top of me, our faces inches apart.
Without further fanfare, he adjusted his position, pressing the tip of his erection at my entrance before filling me. Jackson moved slowly until he was buried to the hilt, not thrusting right away, but settling in and waiting for my body to accommodate his size. I cried out, arching my back to take him as he moved, and he wrapped his arms around my waist to hold me closer to him.
When he finally began to thrust, he did it with care, agonizingly slow, until I felt as if every nerve ending was on fire where we connected and ready to detonate. The only sound in the room was of our labored breathing but still, Jackson kept up with the rhythm. I was on the verge of orgasm, his hard length dragging against the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of my sex with every withdrawal.
“Oh God, Jackson,” I groaned, grabbing a hold of his ass and pulling him tighter against me because I needed him to be quicker, harder, and faster, or I wouldn’t be able to breathe soon.
He ignored my pleas and my grabs and kept on with the slow and torturous movements. I wondered how he could keep it together when I was writhing with need for him to pound into me. Bracing my feet on the mattress, I pushed up to meet him but he still didn’t accommodate. Frustration at the slow build of my orgasm grew and I practically clawed at him to take me rougher so I could find my release. But still, he kept up with the slow torment.
“Please, Jackson,” I moaned into his ear. I barely recognized my own voice.
“Tell me what you need, Liza,” he growled back and I could tell he was holding back by the edge in his voice.
“Please, harder, faster,” I panted.
A primal growl tore from his lips with my words, and for a moment, he sounded like a feral, tortured animal. Lifting me up again with both hands around my waist, he pulled out of me, flipping me onto my belly and spreading my legs. He speared into me, this time without the care and tenderness from before, pushing me into the mattress. I cried out again, this time because he gave me exactly what I needed and after the second thrust, of which the pleasure bordered on pain, I came apart around him.
The orgasm tore through me like a storm, my body convulsing around his. I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out because I had nothing left, and when I came down from it, I collapsed onto the bed, with him still on top of me, pounding into me, snarling as he found his own release.
His solid weight enveloped me as he came down from his orgasm, the sweat from both of our bodies slick between us. Neither of us moved for a long time, panting, our hearts coming down from a full gallop to a slow thump, the sweat drying between us until I grew chilled. I couldn’t move and he didn’t disengage but rolled me to my side as he followed, wrapping his arms around the front of me and resting his chin on top of my head.
It felt good to be in his embrace after the turbulence of emotions we shared over the last two days. I closed my eyes, willing this moment to last as long as possible, but knew we would have to break it up sooner rather than later. There was still a party going on downstairs where Jackson was supposed to show his face.
When he finally let out a loud sigh and released me from his grip, disengaging our bodies, the chill I felt was unlike any other. Something shifted in him again and I couldn’t detect what it was this time. Seconds before, we were as close as any two people could be but all of a sudden, he was ten thousand miles away. I didn’t want to move or turn around but I forced myself to look at him.
Jackson stood next to the bed, his beautifully muscled body gleaming golden bronze in the dim lighting, and I longed to reach for him. To run my hands over him with admiration and pull him to my chest to regain the feeling I felt only moments before when I was wrapped in his arms. But his jaw was set in a way that told me he was untouchable again, so I turned my head, blinked to keep my emotions at bay, and rolled to standing.
“We should get cleaned up and get downstairs,” he said gruffly, inclining his head towards where my clothes lay in a heap on the floor.
I nodded, unable to speak because I didn’t want my voice to crack. Without looking at him, I gathered my things from the floor and headed towards the bathroom. Just before I closed the door, I glanced out at him. To my surprise, he was standing there, looking back at me. The look on his face had softened into something else, the same look he had when we were in the limo. I gave him a quizzical look because I was more confused now than I had been just a minute ago. Jackson ran so hot and cold I couldn’t gauge what he was feeling or what he wanted, and it added a level of frustration to our whole arrangement.
Less than five seconds later, the look was gone before I could decipher its meaning, replaced with the mask of indifference once more. With a sigh, I closed the door, unable to look at him any longer because I was afraid I would say something I couldn’t take back. Doubt about my decision to sleep with him again crept in, but I pushed it back. I went into this knowing what I would risk and I wasn’t going to regret my choice.
I patted my face with a damp cloth, reapplied my makeup as best I could with the few items I had in my tiny purse, dressed, and walked from the bathroom. Jackson was out in the living area waiting for me, fully clothed and ready to go. He looked me up and down with appreciation and my body heated at his gaze despite the fact we had just been together. That was when I knew there was no way I would get him out of my system, and I was lying to myself if I thought I could.
“Ready?” he asked and held out his hand to me for the fourth time tonight.
I nodded and took his hand, ignoring the pinch in my chest as I realized I was in over my head. We walked to the elevator in silence, the picture-perfect couple. It should have felt good, but all I felt inside was agony because I knew it was a sham, even after all we shared.
The look on Liza’s face when she stared out at me from the bathroom haunted me behind my closed eyes, even as she stood next to me, stock still, in the elevator. I lifted my head up from where I had rested it on the mirrored wall and glanced at Liza next to me. She was looking at her shoes, and I couldn’t tell if her eyes were open or closed. I fucked it up again. I knew that, but now I wasn’t sure how to fix it.
First, I lied to see her again and then I slept with her moments after promising we would keep it all business. I had every intention of going back to the benefit, talking up the people I had to talk to, and escaping after dinner, but when I looked at Liza in the eleva
tor earlier, all that evaporated. She was so breathtaking with her wild mane of light auburn curls and her skimpy dress that I ached with the need to touch her. It was like she was a magnet, drawing me closer and once there, the force was so strong I couldn’t disentangle myself.
I made a mistake, again. I knew that the moment I got out of that bed, when she looked at me as I stood there like I was a god. But she was wrong, I wasn’t even close. My moral fiber was so low, it was dragging on the ground these days, and if she knew who the woman was I was scowling at when we first walked in, she wouldn’t look at me that way ever again.
So, I put my mask in place and I turned away from her. The shift in her warmth was evident in the hotel room the moment I turned my back to her. Everything seemed to go frigid, including the sound of my voice. I felt like an ass and I was pissed at myself but there was no way I was going to lead her on, to make her think I was something I wasn’t. This relationship was a fraud and I had to maintain a distance, otherwise, one—or both—of us, would get hurt. Liza deserved better than that, and she certainly deserved better than me.
Cursing under my breath, I began to pace in the tiny space. Liza looked up as I did, seeming to startle out of her own thoughts. She looked wary and guarded, her uncaring veneer back in place. I wanted to scream because it was my fault for alienating her yet again. The elevator doors opened and she looked at me, as if asking for direction on how we would play this. I stuck my arm out for her to take and when she did, her hands were so cold I could feel them through my shirt.
“Just play along with whatever I do,” I instructed her because we didn’t have time to discuss a game plan.
I knew these people and this type of event, and could bullshit my way through it for the both of us.
One Night Page 10