by K Larsen
“Interesting.” He grins.
“Not really.” I retort.
“Oh but it is. Most women would love to gain the interest of a man with my standing.”
“The fact that you just referred to yourself as ‘a man with your standing’ is completely disgusting.” I want to barf all over his expensive marble flooring.
“Is it now?” His eyes are like storm clouds. I think maybe I’ve driven the point home finally as we resume walking toward the door.
“Yes. I know wealth. I know poor. I prefer a happy medium. Money doesn't equal happiness Mr. Napoli. It creates a prison that you’re forced to conform too. It’s...it’s sad. I feel bad for privileged people. They aren't really free to live how they want.” I ramble. Why am I even bothering to explain myself to this nitwit?
“That’s quite the take. No one’s ever had the balls to be so frank with me about my lifestyle.” His fingers move a little at the small of my back causing fire to bubble in my belly. I feel entirely too hot in this sweatshirt suddenly.
“Well, you’re welcome.” I snip and he chuckles again. His voice is smooth and husky and it chafes me that it affects me at all.
“Here you are Clara.” He hands me my bag and I double check to make sure that my phone really is in it before looking back to him. He extends his card to me. “So you know where to return my clothes.” He explains dangling the card. I snatch it from his hand and toss it into my purse without care.
“Thanks.” I bark.
“Till next time?” He asks.
“Uh.” There is no way there will be a next time. As if sensing the impending verbal abuse he’s about to encounter the hand at the small of my back tugs just enough to send me flying into his torso. His arms wrap around me. One snakes up my back to the nape of my neck. His fingers tangle in my wet hair and tug gently until I’m looking up at him. I’m speechless. I’m never speechless. His face lowers to mine until our lips a whisper apart and I swear I can hear myself panting with anticipation. He holds my gaze and presses me firmly to the length of him. “Good bye Clara.” His breath washes over my face. It’s minty. I have the urge to push up on my toes and press my lips to his but I don’t. His head dips lower and left as he brushes a tender, barely there kiss in the hollow of my collarbone then abruptly releases me.
Goosebumps break out all over me as I stagger back a few steps wide eyed unsure of how to respond. I want to slap his pretty face and jump him all at the same time. My feelings are way out of control. I choose fumbling with the doorknob instead and darting down the hotel hallway towards the elevators without any farewell at all. In the elevator I try to control my ragged breaths. What the hell is wrong with me? Dominic Napoli is an ass and hot and infuriating and sexy and I think I want him.
***
“Are you serious right now? He kissed you in that?” Amanda squeals at me.
“Slow your roll home girl. What’s wrong with this?” I Vanna White my hand down my torso making her snicker.
“Well, on any other day, nothing.” She shrugs.
“Exactly. This is any other day Dominic Napoli or not.” I snort.
“I guess. So nothing happened? Nothing?” She pleads for information.
“Not unless you count undressing me without my consent while I was passed out.” I counter.
“Ya know, that is a little creepy... no panties?” She crosses her arms over her chest and shivers.
“Nope. Just his tee shirt. Who removes a woman’s underwear in that situation? It’s like begging for a lawsuit.” I quip.
“I’m with ya on that one. Sorry. I should have just taken you home with me.” Her face falls as she looks guilty.
“It’s alright. I was too drunk to do anything stupid-well, beyond passing out with a stranger in a car.” I shrug and laugh.
“Still, hoes before bros.” Her words spark a memory as she fist pumps me.
“Crap. I remember thinking that as you left... and I think... I think he carried me to the car but I don't remember anything else. I must have fallen asleep on him when we started driving.” I lament.
“He carried you?” Amanda says incredulously.
“Yeah, I’m almost certain I remember being picked up and carried.” I drag my hand down my face in embarrassment. “I’m such a lady.”
“Said no one ever.” She giggles and I playfully smack her.
“Well enough about that, what are we doing today?” I ask.
“You hungry?”
“Always.” I smile.
“There’s a good roast beef place around the corner.”
“Roast beef?” I laugh.
“Yeah. They have pastrami, clam strips and really load the beef in.” She says not following me.
“Meat curtains.” I deadpan and she finally gets it and starts laughing.
“Would you like cheese dripping from yours?”
“Ohmigod yes. Think they make a good fish taco?”
“Well, the staff is really friendly....”
“So I could totally get a meaty roast beef sub dripping with cheese, American or cheddar?”
“American of course.... cheddar implies STD.” Amanda and I double over in laughter.
“My mind never seems to leave the gutter, sorry.” I laugh.
“That’s good because mine doesn't either... now roast beef or pastrami?” She asks.
“Clam strip.” I deadpan sending us into another fit of laughter.
END of sample.