by Robin Stone
“Wilted lettuce?” I murmured to Brooke.
She put her hand over her mouth and smiled. Everyone took their napkin off their plates as Martha and the caterers started handing out the bowls of soup. The soup was brown and didn’t look very appetizing, but I picked up my spoon and gave it a try. It wasn’t really appealing, but I got a few spoonfuls down. Brooke wasn’t much of a fan, either. I was glad when they came around to take the soup bowls away.
“So, how did you and Evan meet?” a woman named Linda asked.
“I showed him a house,” Brooke said, smiling at me. “Isn’t that right, honey?”
“Yeah. Yes,” I said, trying not to squirm in my chair. “She showed me a house.”
“What house?” Linda asked.
“The brick one on Lilac Street,” Brooke said.
“Oh, I love that house. But you didn’t buy it?”
“No,” I said. “I’m still looking. I need to find just the right thing.”
“You’ll know when you find it,” Linda said. “But how did it happen? Did you ask for her number?”
A flash of panic crossed Brooke’s features, but she smiled at me.
“Why don’t you tell the story, Evan?”
I waited a few seconds to gather my thoughts while a salad was put in front of me.
“Well, when Brooke opened the door of that house on Lilac Street, I was struck by how beautiful she was.”
“Aww!” the women said.
“I followed her around the house, barely paying attention to the rooms. At the end of the tour, when she asked if I had any questions, I didn’t know what to say. But I didn’t want to be creepy, so I waited and called her the next day, and she said yes.” I took her hand, lifted it to my lips, and kissed it. Her mouth opened a little, and her right eyebrow went up a hair.
“Oh, how sweet!” Linda said. “Charles, you’re never romantic like that.”
Charles looked up at the mention of his name. He was chewing his salad and swallowed.
“Huh?” he asked.
We chuckled. I squeezed Brooke’s hand and released it, trying not to smile too hard. I had some of the wilted salad, realizing wilted just meant warm, but I was dismayed to see pieces of hard-boiled eggs on it.
Next, the gnocchi came, and it was the best thing I’d eaten so far. I tried to pace myself since there was more food coming. Dinner led to dessert, and the talk turned to schools over coffee. They talked about the colleges their children were attending.
“Where did you go to school, Evan?” Diane asked.
My mouth went dry, but Brooke rescued me again.
“He went to Cornell.”
“Oooh, Cornell’s a great school,” Diane said.
We managed to make it through without any more questions, and I was relieved when it was time to go.
Diane walked us to the door.
“It was nice seeing you again, Evan. Brooke, you’ve found a good one! Don’t let him go!”
Brooke laughed, but it was higher and shriller than her usual husky laugh.
When the door was finally shut behind us, I let out a deep breath until we were in the quiet and safety of the car.
“I am so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think they’d ask you where you went to college. I had to answer with a college that offered a degree in architecture.”
“I’m glad you did, I thought I was screwed.”
I turned on the engine and turned around in the driveway, then turned back onto the street.
“I know Cornell has that degree because I looked it up,” she said.
“I heard you went to grad school.”
“Yes, I… wait, how did you know that?”
“Your assistant mentioned it when I was looking at your awards on the wall. You’re one of their top sellers.”
“Well, yes.” She relaxed in her seat and looked out the window.
“Julia said you were in the top five percent of your class.”
She turned to face me. “What else did she tell you that day?”
“Your bra size, and that you like to sleep naked.”
Brooke gasped, and I laughed. She hit my arm playfully.
“No, don’t worry, she didn’t say anything like that, but do you?” I asked.
“Do I what?”
“Sleep naked.”
Silence stretched out between us, and I felt my cock shifting at the idea of Brooke sleeping naked.
“No, I do not sleep naked.”
“Too bad,” I said. “But seriously, we need to learn a few more things about each other to make this more realistic.”
“I know. I told Diane I hadn’t been seeing you for very long. I thought we could make things up on the fly, but we’d better learn a few more facts about each other. For the next time.”
I flicked on the turn signal. “So, what’s your favorite dessert? Pie with caramelized goat cheese?”
She laughed, using the deep and husky laugh that I liked.
“No, I like cookie dough ice cream.”
“I like yellow cake with white buttercream frosting,” I said.
“That’s very specific.”
“My mom used to make it for my birthday.”
“Used to? Is she still alive?”
“Yes, but she moved to Arizona to live near her sister after my dad died.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“He died when I was a freshman in high school. He had a heart attack at work. We were told he died instantly.”
I remembered being called over the intercom to the principal’s office on a Tuesday afternoon in the fall. I’d never gotten called to the principal in my life, so when my friends looked at me, I shrugged.
Walking down the long hallway to the principal, I looked at the paper leaves decorating the classroom windows. When I got to the office, I was stunned to see my mother, her face pink and her eyes shiny with tears. She burst into loud sobs when she saw me, and pulled me into her arms while my heart hammered.
The principal closed the door, and my mother told me the news. My skin went cold, but my hands went clammy. My stomach dropped to my feet, and my breathing grew harsh.
“Matty,” was all I could say to mom.
“I haven’t told him yet,” Mom said. “I was hoping…”
“I’ll go with you,” I said immediately.
“That’s my brave boy,” she said, hugging me.
I wanted to spare Matty, to run away and pretend it hadn’t happened, but I followed Mom out to the car on shaky legs, and we headed over to Matty’s school.
“I’m so sorry, Evan.” Brooke put her hand on my thigh. “That must have been so difficult.”
“Yeah, it was. What about your parents? Do they live around here?”
“They live in Connecticut. I drive down to see them once in a while. I have a sister, Megan. She still lives in Connecticut. She’s an engineer.”
“Wow, two smart kids in the family. They must be proud.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
I sensed something there, so I changed the subject.
“I like baseball in the summer and football in the winter. You like sports at all?”
“Not really. I played tennis in college.”
“Tennis. Huh. I bet that’s harder than it looks.”
“It really is. Hey, do you want to see the house on Lilac Street? Take a left here.”
I took a left and found myself on a street with houses almost as big as Diane’s. The car’s headlights swept over fences and mailboxes.
“There,” Brooke said. “This brick house on the left.”
I slowed down, peering at the large brick house with a nice front yard and a two-car garage. A few windows were lit with lamps.
“Awesome, I’m loaded,” I said. “How much is this house?”
“It’s four ninety-nine.”
I sucked in a breath. “Meaning four-hundred and ninety-nine thousand? As in half a million dollars?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus
. My house growing up was brick, but it was a small ranch. What was your house like growing up?”
“It was a colonial. My parents still live there.”
We spent the ride back to the hotel exchanging a few more details, so next time we’d be more prepared.
I was sorry when we pulled into the hotel parking lot, since I wanted to spend more time with her. Turning off the engine, I released my seat belt. Brooke released her own seatbelt and put her hand on my thigh. This touch had a different meaning. It was firm and high on my thigh.
“Want to come upstairs?” she asked.
I closed my hand over hers.
“I’m a full-service escort, so yeah, let’s go see your bedroom.”
Ten
The ride up the elevator in the hotel seemed to take forever. We walked down the long hallway, and Brooke unlocked the door to her suite. A lamp was lit in the living room.
She kicked her shoes off. I did the same, following her to the closed door I’d seen before. Opening the door, she flicked on the light switch. The enormous bed had several pillows arranged by the padded headboard.
“Is this bed as comfy as it looks?” I asked.
“It’s incredible. The mattress is so comfortable, and the sheets are to die for.”
I sat at the end of the bed and bounced a little.
“Nice.”
Brooke moved back to the light switch and turned it off.
“Hey,” I said. “Why’d you do that?”
“A woman likes to have some mystery.”
“But now I can barely see you.”
The light from the living room was dim, but my eyes had adjusted a little, and I could see she was unbuttoning her dress. She pushed it down over her hips and slipped it off, standing before me in her bra and panties.
Putting her hand on my shoulder, she leaned over and pressed a soft kiss on my lips. Her skin was velvety soft, and my cock started growing. I spent time kissing and stroking her skin, wondering how I’d gotten so damn lucky.
She suddenly pulled away from me and walked to the far side of the bed, pulling down the comforter and the sheet. I stood and reached for my zipper, but she came back and pushed my hands away, unzipping me herself.
Her hand slid into my pants, and she felt my rigid cock bulging through my underwear. I let out a long sigh as she stroked me through the fabric.
“Tell me what you like, Brooke.”
“I like being kissed on my neck.”
I pushed her hair back over her shoulder and kissed her neck. She sighed and pulled me closer. Kissing her neck and shoulder, I inhaled the powdery scent of her skin. She tugged at the waistband of my underwear, then slipped her hand inside.
“Oh, fuck,” I said.
She stroked me with her small, soft fingers, and my eyes slid shut. I desperately wanted to be inside her, but I didn’t want to rush. Her stroking grew faster and more insistent. She released me and pushed my pants down. I stepped out of them and unbuttoned my shirt, tossing it aside.
Brooke slipped off her bra and underwear, then climbed into bed. I finished stripping and climbed in beside her, wishing I could see more of her curvy, sexy body.
We kissed for several minutes, touching and sighing. I reached down and grabbed her ass, squeezing it, loving the feel of her softness in my hands. I was enjoying the kissing when she sat up and straddled me.
“You know what else I like?” she asked.
She leaned over and kissed my neck, working her way down my chest. I closed my eyes and surrendered to the sensation of her mouth on my skin. She moved lower and lower until she took me into her mouth. I cursed again, digging my fingers into the sheets. I hadn’t gotten a blow job a long time, and I was desperate not to come too soon. She pulled me in deeper, swiping her tongue over the head, getting it nice and wet, using her hands to stroke my shaft.
“Damn, you’re good at this,” I said.
“Do you like how I’m doing this?” she asked.
“Yes. Oh, yes.”
She put her mouth back on me, and the familiar tingling was building up in my balls. I concentrated on holding back, but she was just so damn sexy, working me so good, and her mouth was so hot and wet.
I let out a long, shaky moan, wondering if I should warn her about my imminent explosion. I don’t know how long she sucked me, teasing me to the edge, then slowing down. My legs grew stiff, and I gasped, bucking my hips. She took me in nice and deep, not letting up with her sucking and stroking.
“Wait!” I said.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Let me taste you.”
I put my hand on her head and gave in to the suction of her lips, and then came with a shout, my upper body lifting off the bed. She took all of it, licking and sucking until I finished. She released me, and lay beside me, panting.
“That was incredible,” I said. “I would’ve done that for free.”
She laughed, and I wrapped my arms around her, stroking her back.
“I love how you taste,” she said.
“Can I find out how you taste?” I asked.
She nodded, and I slid down her body, settling between her legs. There was nothing I liked more than going down on a woman—except maybe going down on a woman for the first time, learning what she liked, and listening to her moans.
I brushed my fingers over her pussy, and her scent filled my nostrils. Even her hair down here was soft and fragrant. Kissing her upper thighs, I enjoyed her harsh intake of breath. And when I slid my tongue into her folds, I found delicious, musky wetness. When I found her clit, I licked it with firm, steady pressure. She moaned and grabbed a handful of my hair. I kept going, thoroughly enjoying the wetness and her sexy moans.
I paused to open her thighs, spreading her wider for me. She released my head, grabbing the pillow and writhing on the mattress. I took my time, loving the taste and feel of her. When I slipped a finger inside her, she practically levitated. Her wetness doubled, which I took as a good sign. I fucked her with my finger, teasing her clit with my mouth, listening to her cues.
“Oh!” she cried out. “Oh…”
Fuck, she was sexy. I liked working her into a frenzy of moans. Her thighs started shaking, and I curled my finger inside her.
“Ahhh! Oh, Evan.”
I sped up, encouraged by her moans, and when I applied more pressure to her clit, she finally exploded, crying out and bucking against my face. I kept licking her until I was satisfied that she was finished.
She was still breathing heavy when I came back up to lie beside her. Putting my arm around her, I pulled her against me. Her heart pounded a steady rhythm against my chest. I listened to the sound of her breathing and stroked her hair.
A few minutes later, she moved and pulled the covers up over us. I closed my eyes and started to doze. I hated to fall asleep so quickly, but I became a zombie once I came.
“Should go,” I mumbled.
“Hmm?”
“I should go before I get too sleepy.”
“You don’t have to go,” she said.
“I’d love to stay, but I get up pretty early, and I don’t have any of my stuff here.”
“I understand.”
Her warm body was nestled against me just right. I stroked her hair and listened to her soft breathing. I’d almost forgotten the closeness of holding a woman in bed. She was so sexy and fun, and I wanted to know everything about her.
“Tell me something else. About your childhood, or where you went to school,” I said.
“Oh, I had a pretty standard childhood. I had some good friends at school and in the neighborhood. Except for one boy who used to pull my ponytail.”
I chuckled.
“I got my revenge, though. One day, I was playing kickball at recess with my friends. The bully came over and grabbed the ball. I marched right over to him, grabbed it back, and shoved him hard. He pushed me. I pushed him back, and he fell on his ass. He called me every swear word in the book, but he stopped pushing me around.”
&
nbsp; I grinned. “Atta girl.”
“What about you? Tell me something about your childhood.”
I tried to push away the bad memories and focused on the good.
“I liked to build treehouses with my brother. He’s six years younger, and most of the time I saw him as a pesky little brother. We didn’t like the same things and we had different friends. But when we went into the backyard and worked on our treehouse, we had fun. We spent hours in there, playing with baseball cards and reading comic books.”
“Are you two still close?”
“Yeah. He’s graduating from college soon. He’s going to stay there and work for the summer, but I was hoping to be in a house by the time he comes home. He usually spends the summer on the couch in our apartment. It’s not ideal, but he’s a good sport about it. I really need a place for us to live, and I want to buy a house.”
“I can help you with that.”
“The kinda houses I’m looking at won’t be on Lilac street. A small two- or three-bedroom ranch would do it. A fixer-upper, so it costs less. It’s not exactly the kind of house you usually sell.”
“No, but I know the area really well. I know the neighborhoods and other agents who sell smaller homes. I can definitely help you.”
I hugged her. “I get sex and real estate help. I’m glad we met.”
“I don’t want you to leave,” she said quietly.
“I know. I’ll pack my stuff and bring it over tomorrow night. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds like I’m getting my money’s worth.”
She put her hand on my cheek and softly kissed me. I finally tore myself away and got dressed. She pulled on a robe from the bathroom and walked me to the door.
“Goodnight,” I said, stroking her cheek with my thumb.
“Goodnight, Evan.”
And then she closed the door behind me.
Eleven
The next day seemed to drag. I usually didn’t mind my job, but it seemed like the clock was moving backward. I kept getting calls to drop what I was doing to go fix some emergency, which meant I had to go back and finish some incomplete jobs.