by T L Swan
“How so?”
“I like it rough. My appetite is insatiable. And I’m…” My voice trails off.
“You’re what?”
“Large.”
He frowns as he listens intently.
“She’s very…” I frown as I search for the right word. “Fragile.”
“You don’t think the two of you would be sexually compatible?”
“No, and if we ever crossed that line and it didn’t work out, we could never go back to where we are.”
“You’re happy where you are now?”
I smile softly. “Waking up next to her is the best part of my day.”
“I see.” Elliot begins to scribble on his paper.
“So… how do I turn this off? It can’t happen again.”
“I don’t think I can help you, Nathan.”
“Why not?” My eyes search his.
“Because I’m of the opinion that you may be in love with Eliza.”
“What?” I snap. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
I stare at him as my pulse begins to sound in my ears.
“Could it be possible, Nathan, that your body is just catching up with your heart?”
“No.” The room begins to spin.
“That maybe it’s taken this long for you to allow yourself to feel again?”
“You’re wrong,” I snap, angered that this fucker has wasted my time. “I’m just horny.”
“So, why not go and sleep with someone else tonight? If it’s that easily fixed, go and take what you want.”
Fury begins to bubble deep inside of me. “You don’t know me.” I sneer.
“How long has it been since you’ve had sex with someone, Nathan?”
He hits a nerve, and I swallow the lump in my throat. “A few months.”
“Why do you think that is?”
I hate this fucking guy.
Our eyes are locked, and anger hangs in the air between us.
“Would you feel like you’re betraying Eliza if you were intimate with someone else? If you gave your body to someone else and not her?”
My nostrils flair as tears threaten to fall.
I drop my head, rattled.
Fuck.
Eliza
I wake slowly to the sun peering through the side of the drapes. My head is snuggled into Nathan’s broad chest while he’s on his back. His fingers are mindlessly running through my hair. He’s obviously been awake for a while.
I inhale deeply and pull out of his arms to stretch.
“Morning,” he whispers in a gravelly voice.
I smile sleepily. “Hi.” I look around for my phone. “What time is it? Where’s the alarm?”
“It didn’t go off yet. You forgot to close the drapes last night.”
I wince against the morning sun. “You mean you forgot to close the drapes. Since when has it been my job?”
“Well, if we were at my house,it would be my job, but since this is your house…” He shrugs.
I roll my eyes and climb out of bed. “Just do us both a favour and don’t speak today, okay?”
He chuckles, rolls onto his side to face me, and leans up onto his elbow. His eyes slowly drop down to my bare legs. They linger for a moment on my thighs, and then as if remembering where he is, they snap back up to my face.
I’m wearing panties and a camisole. I’m also braless with everything hanging out but that’s nothing new. This is my usual sleeping attire so I put my hands on my hips. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.”
“Did you just check me out?”
“No.” He frowns as if disgusted. “Are you kidding?” He climbs out of bed in a rush. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He demands. “Why would you even say that?” He storms into the bathroom and slams the door.
I begin to make the bed. Jeez, I was joking. Why’s he so touchy today?
I flick the kettle on and dress into my gym gear of black work-out pants and a black tank top. I put my hair into a high ponytail. I attend the 5:30 a.m. spin class every morning while Nathan goes back to his house and gets ready for work. He does his early rounds at the hospital before he starts his day. It’s a comfortable little routine we have. I go to the gym in the morning while he works, and then he goes to the gym straight after work in the evening while I sort dinner.
Moments later, he re-emerges from the bathroom.
“Your coffee is on the counter,” I call as I tidy up the cushions and throw them back onto the couch.
Why am I so messy at night?
“Thanks.” He picks up his travel mug.
“Are you going to do the online grocery order today?” I ask as I get his leftovers for lunch out of the fridge and pass them to him. We have a deal. He pays for the groceries and I do the cooking.
“Yeah.” He peers into the side of the Tupperware container. “What’s on the menu today?”
“Lasagne.”
His brows rise in surprise. He worked late last night and skipped dinner with me. “You had lasagne last night without me?” He puts his hand over his heart as if wounded. “How could you?”
“Uh-huh, you missed out big time. It was one of my best.”
“Did you give me extra today?”
“I did.”
He smiles down at me. “What would I do without you?”
“Starve, I expect.”
He kisses my cheek. “See you tonight.” He picks up his keys. “Email me the shopping list.”
“I already did, and don’t purposely forget the chocolate like you did last week. I’ll just make you go find it at 10:00 p.m. again.”
“Whatever.” He disappears out of the door.
I smile as the door closes behind him, and then I remember where I have to go now. I exhale heavily. Ugh, spin class. It never gets more appealing. Every day it’s a drag.
One of these days I’m going to wake up fit and hot, and I’ll never have to go again.
Until then, though, it’s off to the gym I go.
I flick through the rack of evening dresses, hmm, I’ve worn most of these before.
“What about this one?” Brooke says, she is taking a dress off the rack and holding it up.
I look at the red dress in her hands. It’s long, fitted, and has a plunging neckline. “Yes, that’s nice.” I turn back to going through the selection. “I’ll try that one on.”
Brooke and I are in the dress rental shop. I go to so many black-tie events with Nathan that I couldn’t possibly buy a dress for everything. Here, I can rent a beautiful designer dress for next to nothing. The shop is owned and run by two young girls. They buy the latest designer dresses, one in each size, and they rent them out for a fraction of the cost. It’s a fantastic idea, and their business is growing. They are opening their second store next month.
“Oh, this one just arrived, too,” Libby, the shop assistant says as she holds up a gold dress.
“That’s nice.” I nod.
“I’ll hang it in the change room.”
“When is the ball?” Brooke asks.
“Tonight.”
“Tonight? You’re cutting it a bit close finding a dress, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I kind of forgot about it, to be honest. I’ve been so focused on this new job that I’ve thought about nothing else.” I pick another dress from the hanger. “What if I can’t do it?”
“Do what?”
“The job. I know nothing about cosmetic surgery. What the hell was I thinking even applying for a manager’s position there?”
“Stop it, you’re just nervous.” She hands me a cream dress. “Try this one on.”
I take the dress into the cubicle, along with the others, and I pull the curtain across.
“If you couldn’t do it, they wouldn’t have given you the job,” she calls out.
I take my top off. “Maybe I got the job because Dr. Morgan likes the look of me.”
“Who cares why you got it? No more shift work,
no more cleaning up vomit, and the pay is nearly double.”
I roll my eyes as I step into the red dress. “I guess.”
“You’re just nervous and talking yourself out of it.”
I look in the mirror and smile at my reflection. “I like this one.”
“Show me.”
I step out of the cubicle.
Brooke’s eyes light up as she looks me up and down. “Hell yeah, that’s hot.”
It’s a deep red and fitted. The back is lace and the neckline is plunging. It’s a perfect fit. “I’ll take it.” I smile.
“You don’t want to try on the others?” Libby asks.
“No, I’ll wear them next time. I can’t be bothered to try on more.” I twirl and look at my behind once more. “What color shoes would I wear with this?”
“Nude.”
“Okay, I have a bag that will match,” I say as I stare at my reflection. “Hair up or down?”
“Up, to show off the back.”
I pull my hair up on top of my head to see what I look like. Aha, looks good. “Done.” I smile. “That was easy.”
I hear the key in the door at 6:45 p.m., and I smile. He’s never late.
“Hello?” I hear him call out.
“Hi, won’t be a minute. Can you pour us a drink?”
“I bought some champagne.” His deep voice calls.
I smile as I put on my lipstick. “There’s a reason I love you.”
He chuckles, and moments later I hear the pop of the cork.
“How was your day?” he asks.
“Good, although I’m freaking out about this job.” I rub my lips together.
“Why?” I hear the cupboards opening as he gets the champagne glasses.
“I don’t know.” I turn and look at my behind in the mirror. Wow, this dress is gorgeous. I walk out into the kitchen, and Nathan raises his eyebrows when he sees me.
“Wow.” He smiles and leans down to kiss my cheek. “You look… hot.”
I wiggle my hips and straighten his bowtie. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He passes me my glass of champagne and clinks it with his. “Cheers. We’re celebrating.”
“We are?”
“I got the apartment.” He smiles broadly.
My eyes widen. “You did?”
“We did. Now I’ll actually be able to fit into your apartment.”
I giggle.
“Now, what’s this about your new job?” he asks.
“I don’t know.” I take a sip. “Hmm.” I eye the bubbles in my glass. “You got my favorite. I guess I’m just nervous.”
“Why?”
“What if I can’t do it?”
“Eliza.” He gives me a beautiful, big smile. “You can do anything you set your mind to.”
“Aww.” I lean up and kiss his cheek, and I run my fingers through his stubble. “You’re the best cheerleader.”
“Well, that’s emasculating.” He raises a brow.
“You know what I mean.” I run my hands down over my body. “Do you like this dress?”
His eyes roam up and down my body. “I love this dress.”
“Do we have cheese?”
“Hmm.” He goes to the fridge and peers in. “That incompetent shopper probably didn’t buy any of the good stuff again.”
“I really do need to fire him.”
He chuckles as he pulls out some Camembert and places it onto the counter.
“Do we have quince paste?” I ask.
“Yes, Queen Elizabeth, give me a second to find it.”
I giggle. “I like that title. You may call me that all the time now, my faithful servant.”
He smirks as he digs out the quince paste and passes it to me. I make a little platter for two.
“You know, we should probably stop doing this before we go to these things. I always walk in looking three months pregnant.”
He shrugs as he shovels a cracker and camembert into his mouth. “I still look good.”
I giggle and take a big scoop of cheese onto my cracker and put it into my mouth.
“What’s your new boss like?” he asks.
“Umm.” I swallow what’s in my mouth and it scratches my throat the whole way down. “Seems okay.” I wince.
“Male, female, young, old?”
“Guy, middle aged. Seemed boring,” I lie, Henry Morgan didn’t seem boring at all but I’m not in the mood for a Spanish inquisition. “Oh my God.” I gasp to change the subject. “Did I tell you about the guy we met on Saturday night?”
“No.” He frowns.
“Jolie met this guy.” I giggle just remembering it. “She met this guy named Santiago who was showing her videos of him having sex with different women.”
“What?”
“I’m serious. Like full frontal hard fucking. All different women, all different positions.”
Nathan screws up his face. “What did Jolie do?”
“She drank shots of tequila while she watched it.”
“What?” He chuckles. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, it was the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You watched it, too?”
I laugh.
“You did?”
I shrug. “It was kind of hot.” I offer as an explanation.
“He could have been a serial killer. Guys don’t just show women videos of themselves having sex with other people. That’s just fucking weird. Like stalker weird.”
I laugh. “I know, right?” I shovel more cheese and biscuits into my mouth. “I’ve never even filmed myself having sex. I wouldn’t even want to watch that back, let alone show other people.”
“What?” Nathan frowns. “You’ve never filmed yourself having sex?”
“No.” I scowl. “Have you?”
“Everyone’s done that.”
“Not me.”
“Why not?” He seems shocked.
“I don’t know?” I laugh. “It’s never come up. Nobody I’ve slept with has ever suggested it.”
He stares at me in disbelief. “Eliza, just how vanilla is your sex life?”
I widen my eyes. “Well, very vanilla if this is anything to go by.”
He sips his champagne as if fascinated. “And you like vanilla sex?”
“Not really.” I shrug. “I’ve never thought about it before. I guess I’m waiting for a big, bad man to teach me bad things.”
His eyes hold mine.
I smile, slightly embarrassed by my lack of experience. “Anyway, I forget what sex is even like.”
“How long since you have had it?”
“Two years.”
“You haven’t had sex for two years?” he gasps.
“Nope.”
“Jesus, Eliza.” he whispers. “Why not?”
“I guess I’m waiting for Mr. Right this time.”
He stares at me for a moment before he speaks. “So, what you’re saying is that you’re waiting for a Mr. Right to teach you how to be bad?”
“Precisely.” I smile. “Do you know anyone?” I tease.
He runs the backs of his fingers down my cheek as if distracted. “Maybe.”
I smile up at my beautiful friend. He looks so handsome in his dinner suit. I rearrange his bow tie and run my fingers through his messed-up hair.
“Are you ready to go, Mr. Mercer?”
His tongue darts out and slides across his bottom lip, and I get the feeling he has something else on his mind. “If we must.”
4
Eliza
We walk into the ballroom. The venue is grand with high ceilings and beautiful, low hanging chandeliers. Huge vases of beautiful pink and cream fresh flowers sit on every table alongside lit candles. Glamorous people in black tie are standing everywhere.
“What’s this ball in aid of again?” I ask as I scan the room.
“It’s a fundraiser for The Children’s Medical Research Hospital.”
“Looks swanky.” I smile.
“I certa
inly hope so. The tickets were ten thousand dollars.”
“Each?” I frown.
“Yes.” He twists his lips as he looks around. “It’s a good cause.”
I widen my eyes. “Jeez.” I try to work out how many people are here and how much they are raising.
A bartender walks past with a silver tray of champagne.
“Champagne, sir.”
“Thank you.” Nathan takes two and passes one to me. He takes a sip of his. He winces and looks at the glass.
“No good?” I frown.
“Not twenty thousand dollars good.”
I giggle. “Nothing is that good.”
He takes my hand and leads me over to the seating arrangements where he scans the chart.
Hmm, I think there would be at least five hundred people here. I do the math in my head. Is that five hundred thousand?
“If there are five hundred people here, is that five hundred thousand dollars raised?” I ask as Nathan leads me over to our table.
“Five million.” He replies distracted as he weaves in and out of the tables.
“Holy crap, that’s a shit ton of cash,” I whisper.
He chuckles as we arrive at our table, and he pulls out my chair. “You have such a way with words, darling.”
He undoes his dinner jacket button with one hand before he sits down. He instantly turns to the woman and man he is seated next to.
“Hello, I’m Nathan Mercer. Nice to meet you.” He shakes their hands and then gestures to me. “And this is Eliza.”
“Hello.” The lady and man smile. “I’m Mario, and this is my wife Alessandra.”
“Hello.” I shake their hands. Nathan and his impeccable manners. He introduces us wherever we go.
“Lovely ball room, isn’t it?” Alessandra smiles.
“Gorgeous.”
“Dr. Mercer!” someone calls, and we turn to see a woman smiling and waving. “How lovely to see you.”
Nathan smiles broadly and offers a wave. His eyes dart to me for approval to go talk with her.
“Go, I’m fine.” I smile and lift my glass of champagne. “I’ve got company.”
She smiles and waves at me, and I wave back. I’ve seen this woman at a lot of the charity events we go to. She’s a doctor and seems nice.
Nathan kisses my cheek. “I’ll bring you another one back. Won’t be a minute.” He nods to our tablemates. “Excuse me.” He gets up and goes and talks to her, and they walk over to the bar and fall into conversation.