The Layover (Dark Love)

by Kat T. Masen

  5

  I am staying at the Westin O’Hare hotel, a few miles from the airport, and one of the nicer hotels the airline puts us up in.

  Stella hugged me goodbye, repeatedly asking me to come back to her place, but I kindly refused. I’m not the best of company and I know that Stella needs this time with her family. The last thing I want is to ruin their Christmas because my boyfriend’s dumped me. This pity party of one is best left alone.

  The lobby is long and narrow with an arched ceiling, and navy blue velour chairs that sit adjacent to the reception area. It is beautifully decorated with a large Christmas tree in the middle and garlands everywhere you turn. Considering it’s Christmas Eve, the hotel is quite busy, with many patrons lining up, and some I suspect are here for a layover.

  I stand waiting, suitcase handle in hand, and stare at the wall. The plan is to drink my sorrows away, wake up early, and catch a flight back home. At some point, I’ll figure out what the hell I am going to do. The lease to the unit is under my name but I don’t want to stay in a place that reminds me of Adam. It makes sense for me to stay in San Fran yet there is nothing left for me there.

  A younger lady calls me over, serving me promptly. “You’ll be staying in room twenty-six. Did you need a wake-up call?”

  “No, I need a bar and a hard drink.”

  “Oh.” She smiles politely. “The bar is open until midnight. It’s just over on your left.”

  I thank her, grabbing my room key as a hand clutches onto my arm and stops me.

  “Olivia.”

  His voice registers before I look up. I don’t want him to see me like this—broken and humiliated. I threw myself at a married man, and now I’ve been dumped. I adjust my gaze to meet his. His eyes immediately connect with mine. He slides his hand down my arm and grips my wrist. Why does he have to be so sexy? And taken? And come into my life at the worst possible time?

  “The photo you saw …”

  “Noah, it’s okay. It was just harmless flirting. Listen, I’m exhausted. I want to head to bed.”

  “Join me for a drink. Just one.”

  “I’m really tired.” I avoid his eyes.

  “This time I’ll bring the nuts.”

  It breaks the tension between us. Perhaps my exhaustion has left me without a fight. “Just one.”

  He takes my suitcase off me, asking the concierge to hold onto it. I tell him I want to go upstairs and change, but he tells me not to because I won’t come back again, which is true.

  He’s still clutching onto my wrist with a tight grip. I follow his lead to the bar.

  There are only three other people in the bar area. It’s small, quaint, and soft music plays in the background. I wish Noah had allowed me to change; my uniform draws attention by the other patrons as they stare me up and down.

  Noah waves to the bartender. “Gin and tonic, please. And for you?”

  “Just a vodka lime.”

  Our drinks are served immediately, thankfully allowing us to avoid the uncomfortable chitchat that occurs when you’re sober and waiting for a drink. When I take the first sip, it slides down so easily, and instantly calms my anxiety.

  “So, tell me, Noah, what would your wife think of you having a drink with another woman?”

  The drink in his hand is almost empty; the ice clinks on his teeth before he slams the glass down and requests another. He orders another for me though I have barely finished mine

  “Since she’s no longer my wife, and we’re separated, I would say she has no right to care.”

  I sigh openly. “I’m sorry …”

  “Don’t be,” he tells me in an arctic voice. “Tell me about you.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “There’s gotta be something. Look at you… you’re no longer the cute waitress serving me all those summers ago. How did you become an airline stewardess?”

  “Just fell into it. Was studying to work in dental, and a friend of mine suggested I try out. My height was the winning ticket.” I laugh, finishing my drink as he pushes another one in front of me.

  “You’re tall.” He smirks, teasing me with his insatiable lips. “I’ll give you that. Sexy, gorgeous …”

  “Aww.” I pout, pretending to act all cute and leaning my head on his shoulder. “So are you—tall, sexy, gorgeous.”

  “Then come with me.”

  “Where?”

  He places his swipe card in front of me, laying it flat on the bar. There’s an urgency in his voice; his eyes smolder. “Just for tonight. No strings attached.”

  I hesitate, unsure how to respond. He notices my resistance, and is quick to order me another drink. “Unless, you’re with someone?”

  “No,” I respond coldly. “Not anymore.”

  “As of when?”

  “An hour ago,” I admit, throwing back the drink as soon as it lands in front of me. His proposition is unlike anything that has ever happened to me. I have nothing to lose, and a night of passion to gain. Adam has moved on, so why shouldn’t I do the same?

  Noah is sexy. He is more than sexy. He is undoubtedly the most beautiful man I have ever been near.

  “Olivia, I just need to forget that the woman I married decided her career was more important than her family.” His cards are laid out on the table—he needs a rebound fuck to forget his heart is shattered into a thousand pieces.

  I get it, I really do. “And I just need to forget that the guy I’ve been living with for the past seven years was a waste of time and broke up with me today via text, but still wishes me a merry Christmas.”

  There’s this silence between us. We are both trapped within our own worlds and need an escape—something to distract us from our troubles. Noah is incredibly impatient, sitting stiffly with his fingernails clicking against the bar, his jaw clenched as he waits for me to agree to this ‘no strings attached’ proposition.

  There is no more over-analyzing.

  No more playing it safe.

  I will make him give me exactly what I need.

  And in return—I will give him what he needs.

  My hand lingers over his, stopping his fidgeting. I motion for him to follow me. Together, we walk towards the elevator, ignoring the stares of patrons who glance at my uniform and watch us leave together after Noah finalizes the bill.

  The elevator doors open, and a gentleman steps out. Noah and I enter, my hand still clutching onto his, and my heart racing a million beats per second.

  A group of women follow us in, drunk and making comments about the ‘hot’ doorman downstairs. The woman wearing a strapless dress on this cold wintery night notices Noah and nudges her friend, who then nudges her other friend, until all three are gawking at him and practically drooling down their makeup-caked faces. Such hot messes.

  Noah ignores the attention, his gaze fixed on me and his lips twitching in delight. The door opens to level two and the ladies make their way out, blowing kisses at Noah and giggling as they leave. The door closes shut, and we’re all alone. Noah moves me against the glass mirror; his lips smash into mine and I welcome the hard kisses.

  He tastes perfect.

  The door opens, and we manage to break free. I welcome the chance to catch my breath from the heat between us.

  His room is just down the hall, a swift turn from the elevator. I giggle as he removes his key from his shirt pocket, unable to contain my excitement.

  “You ready?”

  “For you?” I raise my brow with a grin. “How bad can you be?”

  The tip of his finger glides across my bottom lip, in sync with his heaving chest that echoes the sound of a wild animal. His stare doesn’t leave my mouth, quickening my breathing once again and making my skin oversensitive to his touch. Slowly, a smile builds on his gorgeous face and he laughs softly, before leaning in and whispering, “The baddest you’ve ever had.”

  6

  I won’t survive him.

  He is insatiable.

  Every kiss becomes harder, more a
ggressive and demanding. He wants to own me—now, here, in this moment—commanding me to lie down and watch him pleasure me like no other man has before.

  I crumple beneath his touch. Every sordid lick and caress of my heated skin causes me to moan louder. He breathes my name, each syllable dragging against his lips with an animalistic growl that lingers as he kisses the sweet spot between my thighs. My skirt is raised and sitting around my hips, exposing the one thing he had his eye on.

  I obey him without thought or hesitation, oblivious to anything outside this room. It isn’t like me to be so loose with my words, yet something about him unleashes my inner minx. I beg him for more. Beg him to take me here and now.

  “We have all night,” he whispers against my earlobe, leaning forward and rubbing his hard cock against my backside. Our clothing has become an obstacle, and the second that I hear his belt clink against the floor, I suck in a deep breath to control the raging fire inside of me.

  I wait with bated breath, anticipating his next move, his next touch. His palms graze against my backside, tracing the contours like a map and making me moan in delight. My body rocks back and forth at a slow pace, desperately waiting for him to enter me whole and fill me in.

  “Someone is a little impatient,” he grunts, followed by a small smack against my heated skin. I yelp at the sensation, surprised how much it turned me on and heightened my senses. I silently beg him for more, pushing myself back into him and grinding myself against him.

  With my skirt pushed up against my waist, he admires the view by taking a moment to spread my legs and stare right between them. He tells me exactly what he is going to do.

  “So very wet. I think you’re ready, Olivia.”

  I pant, unable to answer.

  “Tell me,” he questions with a rough tone, “Are you ready?”

  I nod, in love with the way he spoke dirty to me. The more he speaks, the harder his actions become until he latches onto the side of my waist and flips me over, pushing me on my back. He throws himself on top of me. His lips crash against mine, intimately kissing me before he pulls back and stares at my face.

  “Why are you looking at me this way?” I keep my voice low, conscious of the fact that his eyes haven’t left mine.

  “Because you’re beautiful.”

  I smile. I was worried over nothing. “So are you. Sexy, Gorgeous …”

  “No, I’m serious.”

  His steady and serious gaze makes me vulnerable. We’d agreed this was a one-night thing. Just two people having sex and unleashing our troubles. I didn’t expect this—a level of intimacy that normally occurs between two lovers.

  “Um, thank you.”

  “For tonight, just be mine. Let me own you.”

  I’m not sure what that means but I am open to anything. Noah is sexy. Everything about him makes my whole body weak from a mere stare let alone a touch. He excites me in a way that no other man has. Somewhere behind that stare of his, he must see what he is doing to me. “I’m all yours, Mr. Mason.”

  It’s enough to unleash what he had been holding back. He focuses his attention back on my lips, kissing my mouth with urgency and leaving me without a single breath to catch. My nails claw their way across his back. With every move he makes, I fall deeper under his spell, allowing him to ravage my body, barely noticing that he stops to place on protection before he enters me, pushing my panties aside. Propping himself up on his knees, he watches himself move in and out, biting his lip while spreading my legs enough to cause me to wince in pain. This man wants only me at this moment and I will do every damn thing to please him.

  “You want it hard, Olivia?”

  I nod, closing my eyes and waiting for him to take me harder in the throes of his climax. Just the thought of it has me on edge, and with only the first thrust, I latch onto the pillow behind me, my blood pumping hard, and every single part of me tingles in a mad delight. I call his name repeatedly, wishing this moment wouldn’t end. Opening my eyes quickly, I catch his desperate need to control the moment, holding back his impending orgasm until it gets the better of him. The grip of his hands is tight against my waist, slamming into me until his moans slow down and his hips follow on cue.

  He falls beside me, both of us out of breath and reeling from what just happened. With only a faint glow from the moon that shines outside our window, we continue to lie in the dark in utter silence. Neither one of us has anything to say, and although this is out of my comfort zone, I break the silence between us and do what we both agreed on.

  “I should go.”

  Noah clears his throat. “It’s what we agreed on.”

  A small pang plays on my fast-beating heart. I sit up, fixing my clothes to make myself decent again. There are no more words to be said between us, and maybe, just maybe, it is better this way. He gave me exactly what I had been missing. A real man to make me feel like a woman again.

  I smile from happiness. Adam wasn’t the right one to spend my time with. No man is, at this moment. This time in my life is all about finding me. Who I am without the influence of a man.

  And Noah has pushed me on the right path.

  “Noah, thank you.”

  He continues to lie there, beautifully sprawled with his arm beneath his head, his muscles flexing, the sheet barely covering his lower half. “You don’t need to thank me.”

  “I do. This one night was exactly what I needed. You, Mr. Mason, did exactly what I needed. And for that, I thank you.”

  His grin is infectious, lighting up the room and melting away any tension between us. “I’m not used to a woman thanking me and happily walking away.”

  On the nightstand sits his cell. I hand it to him, prompting him to unlock it before going to his contacts and entering a name and number. Handing it back to him, he looks at the number, smiling.

  “We’ll always have Chicago. And if ever the universes align and we’re both here again one time, I’m just a phone call away.”

  “Milkshake Bitch.” He laughs softly while staring at the screen. “Who would have thought that the shy girl serving me all those years ago would be so … accommodating to my needs.”

  This time I laugh, and without even thinking, I lean over to kiss him one more time. We kiss slowly, rolling our tongues intimately but without the heated struggle we had earlier.

  I begin to pull back until he stops me. “Wait.”

  Unbuttoning the top of my blouse, he shifts the fabric sideways and exposes my small birthmark. Slowly, he places his lips over it, a small but sensual kiss. “I’ve always wanted to do that. And if our paths never cross again, you’ve fulfilled one fantasy that has stuck with me forever.”

  I pull back, distancing our bodies. “Goodbye, Noah.”

  I turn quickly, fumbling with the door and not looking back. He may have given me what I wanted, pushed me to move forward and focus on my life. But a tiny part of me is terrified. What if he’s fulfilled my fantasy and this sticks with me forever?

  What if no other man can live up to this moment?

  I take the deepest of breaths and walk away.

  No matter what happens, we’ll always have Chicago.

  7

  Noah

  “Daddy, come say night-night.”

  Jessa stands at the top of the stairs, carrying her yellow blanket with bears all over it, the same blanket she drags across the ground everywhere she goes. In her other hand, she carries a small stuffed brown fox. It is soft and has these big eyes like it’s out of a cartoon, a last-minute purchase when I left Chicago airport six months ago.

  I quickly make my way up the stairs, scooping her up in my arms and balancing the weight of her body and the extra items she carries. Walking towards her room, I see the nightlight is already on and her favorite book sitting on top of her pillow.

  “Daddy, you read to me? Puh-lease?”

  I gently place her down, tucking her in as she gets comfortable and places her thumb inside her mouth. As I softly read to her, her eyes begin to dr
oop, her long lashes touching her face until her soft snore echoes in the room. I lean in, kissing her forehead before shutting the door.

  I make my way downstairs to the den. The lights are dimmed and the fireplace running on this rare cool night. It is my favorite room in our house, designed for my wife and I to unwind and relax in together.

  “Laptop away,” I say.

  Morgan is still wearing her work clothes, giving me another excuse, some important email that has to go out right now. “Just one more—”

  “Morgan,” I scold gently. “C’mon, our therapist said we need to make time for each other when Jessa is asleep.”

  She nods in agreeance, shutting her laptop with a sigh. “You’re right. Of course. Cheese and wine?”

  “How about you naked?” I pull her body into mine, watching her giggle in my embrace.

  “How about I slip into something more comfortable?” she teases.

  “How about you slip into nothing?”

  She leans in, kissing my lips and instantly turning me on. I rub my body against hers, sliding my hand beneath her skirt and along her thighs.

  “I’ll be back. Behave.”

  She walks out of the room, dropping her heels to the ground and untucking her blouse as she goes. Our marriage was over. Divorce papers were issued on Christmas Eve, of all days. We had been this close to ending it all.

  Then, I decided I couldn’t give up on us. On Morgan and Jessa. Our problems—while world-crushing at the time—could be fixed. It was just a phase, a bad one at that. I had one last chance to save us for the sake of Jessa and the second that Olivia left my hotel room, I made the call.

  I saved my marriage.

  It was all because of that one night.

  It was because of Olivia.

  That way she allowed me to feel like a man.

  I can’t explain what I went through back then. Perhaps it was Olivia’s raw innocence that made me fight for the overbearing, stubborn woman who committed to me for life. We weren’t perfect, far from it. Our problems still lingered but like me, Morgan chose to try to work it out.