by Kelly Alexis
"I'll drink to that." We clinked our glasses together with the vibrating ring of expensive crystal. I sipped the wine and nodded. "This is good. I may have a new favorite."
"Gigolo wine," he joked.
"Hmm, much better than limo wine."
Our salads arrived, and we picked up our utensils. I could tell by our unusual awkwardness that neither of us wanted to acknowledge the elephant in the room, so we started talking about inconsequential things such as our favorite pets and best Christmas presents. It was the first time in our relationship that we had actually talked to each other about our lives. No flirting. No double entendres. No dirty words whispered in the heat of sex. Just talking about the real world. Gradually, the conversation became more personal until we were sharing stories about our childhoods. Ironically, we had grown up only twenty miles from each other in different suburbs of Denver. He was three years older than I, which was not so much that we hadn't had very similar memories of the popular music and hangouts of the time. College seemed to be the turning point for both of us, with me ultimately choosing a Mrs. Degree and him moving into a career that he justified as being a valuable social contribution.
But for all the stories, it bothered me that I knew so little about the adult Frisco. I had been very open about my disastrous marriage, but he'd been pretty vague about his broken relationship and subsequent career choice. I truly wanted to understand what had driven him to it or if he was just a player using his unconventional job title to fuck lots of women. I didn't want to believe the latter could be true. There was something so warm and genuine about him that made me think his intentions were honorable, if questionable.
As the meal progressed, we laughed and occasionally shared a kiss. I noticed several of the other diners staring at us and smiling. To the outside world, we probably looked like a young couple deeply in love.
But we both knew the truth. In less than twelve hours, we would never see each other again. Our lifestyles simply didn't mesh. It wouldn't be fair of me to ask him to change, and he couldn't expect me to accept his relationships with other women.
Tonight was the end, and we each tried to cling to the fragile threads that bound us together. We were among the last people left in the restaurant when we finally walked out with Dimitri wishing us a good night. It was all so different from that first evening when we had crashed together in a heated frenzy. Had it really been only two nights ago? Now, we were desperately holding on to each other like shipwreck victims sharing a life raft. Frisco's arm was around my shoulder, and my arm was wrapped around his waist, keeping us connected on a more intimate level. He bent toward me, and I lifted my face up to be kissed.
At the door, he pulled my key out of his pocket and unlocked my door. I had given it to him earlier because I wasn't carrying a purse, and there was absolutely no place on my dress to tuck it away.
He hesitated, and I held the door wider.
"I just wanted to remember this moment, with you standing there, looking so amazing." His gaze swept me with so much warmth that I could feel the wave wash over me.
He stepped inside and kicked the door shut behind him. I expected him to start undressing me or himself immediately. Instead, he pulled out his cell phone, scrolled through his music, selected a song, and then looked up at me before hitting Play. "There's something I want to do one more time."
I laughed. "Do I get a choice?"
He cocked his head like a cute puppy trying to get the gist of his master's words. "Nope, this one's for me."
Since there wasn't anything that we had done that I wouldn't gladly do again, I nodded. "The hot tub, the shower, or the bed?"
"The dance floor." He pushed a button on his phone, then extended his hand as if it were a formal request at a teen's country-club cotillion. "Will you dance with me, Miss Ingalls?"
Wow, I hadn't seen that coming. It was sweet and sexy and so endearing. I took his hand and did as much of a curtsy as the skintight dress would allow. "I would love to."
He pulled me into his arms, holding me closer than he had at Highland Manor. I instantly recognized the music from the old Chris DeBurgh song "Lady in Red." I sighed as I locked my arms around his neck and buried my face into his shoulder.
He half sang, half spoke, "Lady in red. Dancing with me…"
"Just you and me…" I leaned my head back so I could look into his eyes. "Thank you for the best three days of my life."
"This is where I want to be." He kissed me then pulled me back against him.
We swayed together, our feet inching along as we moved in a slow circle, our bodies molded together as we danced. Every word, every phrase went straight to my heart. His hands spread wide across my lower back then slid down to my ass. I could feel the pressure of his hard cock, arched and contained beneath the fly of his pants. In spite of the sexiness of the song and heat produced by our bodies rubbing together, there was an innocence and purity about our dance. For a moment, I could believe we were young and carefree, with no past and an open future. We weren't divorcée and gigolo. We were just Sami and Frisco.
The song went on about it being a night he would never forget, and we sang along. It echoed our own feelings about this special evening. Even though I might be only a weekend in his life, he would remember it. And so would I.
The song ended, and instead of letting me go, he picked me up and carried me to the bedroom and lowered me to the bed. He eased the red dress up until it was around my waist.
"Oh God!" he exclaimed. "If I'd known you weren't wearing panties all night, I would never have made it through dinner."
"I wanted to surprise you."
He unzipped his fly, and his cock immediately sprang free.
"Apparently, I'm not the only one without underwear," I told him with an appreciative smile. I reached out and stroked his engorged shaft.
"I want you. Now. Just like that," he said with a hoarse moan.
"Then take me." I tugged gently on his cock, urging him to come closer.
Instead, he pulled me toward him until my hips were almost hanging over the edge. I let go of his cock and grabbed handfuls of the bedspread as he pushed inside me without further preliminaries. As usual, just being around him had turned me on, so my juices flowed around him, easing his way.
Frisco stood as he pumped into me, our gazes locked together, mating with each other across the distance. His big hands gripped my thighs as he buried himself deeply, plunging, retreating, and plunging again. It was the frantic coupling of prom night, with both of us still dressed in our finery, too excited to hold back.
He let go of one thigh and pinched my clit, which was the final impetus I needed to cry out in a blinding orgasm. He pushed in again and burst inside me, pumping his hot liquid into my vagina. He shouted and arched his back before his knees buckled, and he bent over on top of me.
"Sorry about that. I couldn't wait," he panted in my ear. "I felt like I was back in high school."
I couldn't believe his thoughts had so closely echoed my own. It made it that much more exciting. "Prom night."
"Was that your first time?"
"No, I was a late bloomer. I didn't have a serious boyfriend until my junior year of college. How about you?"
"Homecoming, also my junior year, except it was high school." He rolled onto his back, and we lay side by side crossways on the bed with our legs dangling off.
"You were probably the homecoming king. Right?"
He shrugged. "Maybe."
"And star quarterback."
"Yes, but—"
"I always dreamed about dating a quarterback when I was in high school," I admitted.
He looked at me. "What about now?"
"I'd get arrested."
Frisco chuckled as he stood and pulled me to my feet. "I won't tell." He took off his jacket and tossed it on the chair, followed by his shirt, pants, shoes, and socks. I watched, soaking in every inch of him, knowing that this time tomorrow night, this would all be just a memory. He spread his ar
ms wide and said, "Ta-da! An older but probably no wiser homecoming king."
"Wait. You're missing something." I looked around the room and spotted a large decorative ring around a fat red candle sitting on the wide rough-plank mantel. It was made out of pine needles, cones, holly, and small ornaments with a sprinkling of gold glitter. I carefully lifted it from around the candle and placed it on Frisco's head. "Tonight, you are my fantasy king."
He adjusted the crown to a jaunty angle. "Every king needs a queen. But my first decree is that you wear the official outfit of the kingdom."
I turned around and lifted my hair off my neck. "Can the king help me with my zipper?"
His fingers floated over my bare shoulders, barely touching me and instantly making my skin hypersensitive. His lips followed, dropping warm kisses on my neck. I felt my zipper ease open, slowly letting in the cool air of the room. "Did I tell you that you look wonderful tonight?" he murmured, his breath moist.
My head rolled to the side to allow him more access. "You like my dress?"
Frisco let the dress fall to the floor. "It's nice, but I like what you're wearing now a lot better." He rotated me until I was facing him, dressed only in my silver stiletto heels and the red beryl necklace.
His gaze caressed me slowly from head to toe. The heat in his eyes seared my skin. My nipples bloomed into pebbles, and my stomach sucked in with excitement. I could feel my clit throbbing in anticipation as I watched his cock harden and rise from a resting position to a proud stanchion.
"You are my fantasy." He stepped forward and buried his fingers in my hair as his hands framed my face. His mouth crushed down on mine fiercely, possessively. He backed me up until we reached the bed and fell back across it. His lips left mine to continue his delicious assault of my body, kissing, licking, nipping, and sucking every inch of me.
I watched him through half-closed eyes, savoring the sensations and loving the impish mythological god look of this handsome man wearing a crown of forest flora. Then his tongue lapped my clitoris, and all conscious thought fled as pure pleasure took over.
We made love with a passion and enthusiasm that ended in a mutual firework display greater than the Fourth of July at Coors Field. We collapsed, thoroughly sated and exhausted in each other's arms, barely able to crawl under the covers before falling asleep, curled together like kittens.
At some point during the night, I woke up and realized he had turned out the lights and removed my heels. I listened to his even breathing and snuggled closer, adding this moment to my memory file. It would be so easy to fall in love with this man. Maybe I already had—which would be insanely stupid.
I slid closer, curving my back against the hard wall of his body. I could feel his heartbeat vibrating through me and his breath ruffling my hair. He had been kind and gentle. The sex had been great, but the real pleasure had been in sharing the weekend. Even with him next to me, my heart was aching at the thought of never seeing him again.
I buried my head in my pillow so my tears wouldn't wake him. When I checked in, I hadn't realized what my fantasy was. Now I knew. His name was Frisco.
Sunlight creeping in between the drapes woke me. I stretched and reached over to find Frisco, but his side of the bed was empty. Was he surprising me with breakfast again? Was he in the bathroom? I ran my hand over the indention where his body had been. It was cold. Wherever he was, he'd been gone for some time.
I sat up and looked around the room. It was then that I noticed Frisco's crown on his pillow. And beneath it was a note. My heartbeat quickened as I picked it up and saw the opening line.
My dearest Sami, this weekend has fulfilled my wildest fantasies.
The smile slid off my face as I continued to read.
I'm not great at good-byes, but I wanted you to know that it's been fun. Thanks, Frisco
Chapter 14
Incredulously, I reread the note. It's been fun? Really? Was that all it had been for him?
I noticed there was something under the wreath. I lifted it and found ten one-hundred-dollar bills. I stared at the note and the money with growing horror. What the hell had just happened? Did he think I was a hooker? Had the whole weekend been a game? Had it meant nothing to him? Had I been a gigolo's vacation?
I had never been so confused.
I sat in stunned silence. This couldn't be right. I reread the note over and over. I simply couldn't believe that this was the same Frisco I had almost fallen in love with. Surely, this was a mistake, or a joke, or some sort of test. I got out of bed and pulled on the plush red robe before wandering around the suite.
All signs that Frisco had ever been there had been removed. His clothes, his shoes, his cell phone…all gone. My fingers curled around the large red beryl stone of my necklace. It was the only physical trace that Frisco even existed.
Angrily, I jerked it off. The chain gave way, and I threw the necklace across the room. He left me money! That was adding insult to injury. It was one thing to have a weekend fling that was mutually beneficial, but it was another thing entirely to feel like I'd been used or tricked. I had struggled with the concept that he was a gigolo, but it had been out in the open. I felt betrayed. It's been goddamn fucking fun? He didn't even have the balls to look me in the eyes and tell me good-bye.
My fury gradually cooled. None of this was real. It had all been a fantasy weekend where perception was the reality. I had accepted that he was a temporary lover. I had fallen under the "boyfriend" spell where I was his whole world and he was mine. In the back of my mind, I had known all along that the relationship wasn't genuine. But the warmth in his eyes, the gentleness of his touch, and the comfort of being with him had made me push it out of my thoughts.
Apparently, he had just been in it for the sex. Which shouldn't be a shock. It was his chosen lifestyle.
So, the romance had ended differently than I'd expected. I wasn't sure exactly how I had pictured it. Maybe a tight hug and one last lingering kiss? I would look back and see him standing in the doorway as the limo drove away. As we went through life, we would think back on our coupling with fondness.
Instead, I was leaving with the hope that he wouldn't be in the lobby and that I wouldn't bump into him on my way out. I couldn't bear to look into his eyes and wonder how I could have misjudged him so badly. It was all wrong, and I felt dirty.
I glanced at the clock and saw that I still had four hours before my scheduled departure, but I was anxious to leave as soon as possible. I dropped the robe on the bed and took a long hot shower. The water pelted my head as I rinsed the conditioner down my shoulders and onto the shower floor. I sat down on the seat and leaned against the wall and watched the water drops dance against my breasts and stomach. I cupped my hands and let the water fill them before splashing it on my face.
For a brief moment, I thought I could smell Frisco. There were no words that could explain what I was feeling. All the joys and pleasures were now tempered by doubts and questions. As upset as I was, I couldn't completely dismiss how much I had enjoyed his company. And I'd known all along that our arrangement wasn't permanent. I had no right to now grieve for something that never was and never could be.
On the positive side, I suspected I was the only person in my small circle of friends who had spent two days and three nights with a very talented gigolo. I had no idea what my answer would be when they asked if I'd enjoyed my stay at Breathless, what I had done while I was there, or, holy shit, had I met anyone nice? I had several hours in a limo to think things through and come up with acceptable answers. I stood up and turned the water off. All I knew right then was that I just wanted to leave.
While my hair was drying, I threw my things into my suitcases. I didn't care if everything was wrinkled. I could fix it all once I got home. Suddenly, I longed for the sanctuary of the loft. I had been living in it for the past few months, but I had never really made it my own. Now I wanted to get back and feel its familiarity wrapped around me. I might even buy a little Christmas tree for the livi
ng room and hang garlands on the rail of the balcony.
I finished putting my makeup on, dried my hair, and pinned it up in a messy bun that matched my disheveled thoughts. I dressed in a sweater, stretch pants, and boots, then picked up the phone and called Nathan to see if there would be a limo available. He assured me it would be no problem and said he would send someone up for my bags.
I checked the suite to see if I had forgotten anything. Just as I snapped my suitcase shut, there was a knock on the door.
For a second, my heart did a little flip. Could it be Frisco? Had he dropped by to clarify his letter? Did he miss me as much as I was missing him? I hurried to the door and peeped out the hole. My shoulders drooped. A bellboy waited with a cart.
I let him in, and he loaded my luggage on the cart.
"Your luggage will be held for you downstairs," he told me with a smile.
"Thank you. I'm heading down now." I picked up my coat off the bed and gave the suite one more look. All the memories flooded into my mind—making love in the hot tub and the shower, dancing by firelight, and spending hours in total abandonment on the big bed. Instead of sadness, I felt only relief. The depressed, beaten, lonely young woman who had arrived was gone. There was much I didn't understand about Frisco and his lifestyle, but he had given me back my self-confidence and, most importantly, my smile. I couldn't remember the last time I had had such an extended period of pure happiness. He had changed me for the better, and for that, I was grateful.
The sunlight hit the bright red gemstone on the white carpet, making it sparkle almost as if it were lit from within. I walked back into the bedroom and picked it up. It was my only souvenir of my stay in the Fantasy Suite, and I realized I wanted to keep it. I slipped it into the pocket of my coat, turned, and walked into the hallway. The door closed solidly behind me.
Back to the real world. The fantasy had been wonderful, but I had to get back and make a new life for myself.
The hallway between my suite and the stairway was empty. I decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator for one last taste of the resort. I walked slowly down the curving staircase to the main floor. All the beauty and grandeur of the Rocky Mountains covered in a fresh layer of snow swept as far as the eye could see outside the wall of windows. The lobby was warm and bustling with people going to or leaving the restaurant or various activities.