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Desire

Page 23

by Simone Sowood


  This gives me just enough time to brush my teeth and do my makeup before Gabe is due to arrive.

  At six-fifty-nine, my door buzzes. A million butterflies take off inside of me, and I shake my hands to calm them down. Here comes my first night of meaningless, hook-up sex.

  I open my door to reveal Gabe standing on my doorstep. My jaw drops. He’s wearing black jeans and a tight black T-shirt that forms to his muscles. Somehow he looks better than I’ve ever seen him look.

  His eyes rake over me, from my feet up, setting off the butterflies again. When his eyes reach my head, he bites his bottom lip and shakes his head.

  We stand frozen for a minute, taking each other in.

  “You look incredible. I’ve never seen you with your hair down before. I thought you were beautiful before but this is a whole new level.”

  I blush and curse myself for turning red so easily.

  “Thank you,” I mouth. I want to return the compliment and tell him how good he looks but I can’t find the words.

  “I brought you this,” Gabe says, revealing a single red rose from behind his back.

  “That’s so sweet. Thank you.”

  I take the rose, and reach my lips up to kiss his cheek. Gabe rests his hand on my back, enveloping me in his warmth. I breathe in his clean, masculine scent, and could happily stand here all night.

  He shifts his head, and brushes his lips on my lips. Without thinking, my lips part. Gabe growls, and presses his mouth against mine. He holds me tighter. Holding the rose, I wrap my arms around his strong body.

  Tingles coat my skin and heat pools between my legs. Why are we bothering with dinner? This isn’t a date, and right now I’m feeling ready for everything he promised.

  Gabe pulls his head away, breaking the kiss. I gaze up at him, my breathing rapid.

  “We should get going,” he says.

  “Do we have to? We could ditch dinner and go straight to the mind-blowing part.”

  “No way,” he says with a sly smile, “The deal was dinner first. Besides, you’re not ready for it yet.”

  I fall onto my heels, and pull away from him. I feel like yelling I am ready, but decide maybe he’s right.

  “Let me put this in water,” I say, holding up the rose.

  He follows me into the kitchen. I dig a thin vase from the back of a rarely used cupboard, and fill it with water.

  “You really like roses,” I say with a smile, knowing roses are tattooed all across his chest.

  “Yeah, they have sentimental value for me,” he says, his voice more gravelly than usual.

  “Well, I love roses. They’re my favorite flower.”

  A grin springs across Gabe’s face. He holds his hand out and says, “A good sign for the night. Let’s go.”

  Gabe

  With Eloise’s hand in mine, I lead her to my pickup truck. As she climbs in, I worry that I didn’t clean my truck thoroughly enough for her. At least I got all the junk out of it and she has a place to put her feet.

  I get in the driver seat and start the engine. Before I pull away, I pause to look at Eloise. I was speechless when I first saw her with her hair down. She’s the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen.

  It’s going to be a struggle to stick to my plan making her realize this evening is more than about sex. Tonight is all about us becoming an item.

  I don’t know why she makes me feel the way she does. No other woman has ever done this to me. Hell, normally women are in and out of my life and any who do stick around do so out of their own persistence.

  But there’s something about her that I can’t get enough of.

  Putting the truck in gear, we head off.

  “Do you feel like a burger?” I ask.

  “I’m always up for a burger.”

  “Perfect.”

  Eloise says nothing else, and I get the sense she’s nervous. I guess that’s understandable. She’s probably never been out with a guy like me before, and on the promise of sex she’ll actually enjoy.

  “We could always go to Nick Tahou Hots for a garbage plate,” I joke.

  She laughs immediately, and says, “I haven’t had one since I finished college. It’s tempting, but maybe kind of heavy.”

  “Don’t worry, I was teasing. I wouldn’t take you there on a first date.”

  “Oh,” she says, her voice constricted. The nerves are back. Maybe I shouldn’t have called this a date.

  Reaching across the seats, I find her hand and lace my fingers through it. She doesn’t pull away, and I squeeze her hand, trying to reassure her.

  “What’s your sentimental reason?” she asks.

  “For what?”

  “For roses. I mean, you have a lot of them tattooed on you.”

  I don’t want to get into that now. “They were a family favorite. When I was a kid, our backyard was full of them. When they were in bloom, my mom used to bring bunches of them into the house,” I say.

  “Nostalgia, then.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Did they hurt?” she pauses, then adds, “Getting all the tattoos.”

  “It didn’t bother me, obviously.”

  “I’d be too scared of the pain.”

  “Pain is only in your mind. Besides, you were about to pierce your most sensitive area.”

  “But that’s only one quick thing, not all the hours that it must’ve taken for all your tattoos.”

  Smirking, I look across at her, and ask, “Do you like my tattoos?”

  Eloise shrugs, and says, “They’re growing on me.”

  I burst out laughing, and so does she.

  “I’ll make a bad girl out of you yet.”

  “Never in a million years.”

  We joke around the rest of the drive. I pull the truck into the classiest burger joint in town. At least as classy as a burger joint can get.

  Eloise hops out of the truck, and I drape my arm over her shoulders. She feels perfect against me, like she’s exactly where she belongs. At least she’s loosening up around me and doesn’t seem nervous anymore.

  When we reach the entrance, I hold the door open for her. She steps inside and I follow behind. We stand at the hostess station, waiting to be seated.

  While we wait for a hostess to appear, I look around the restaurant. It’s nicer than my usual spots. It’s mostly tables and chairs instead of booths. And they even have real tablecloths, and they don’t store the ketchup on the tables.

  Fuck.

  Marshall is eating at one of the tables on the far side of the room. We’re going to have to leave. But there is no way I am telling Eloise the reason.

  Somehow I don’t think she could handle the news that someone has a restraining order against me. Even if I took out the restraining order against him first.

  “Jewel, let’s go. I don’t want to eat here anymore,” I say, and pull her hand.

  “Why? We just got here.”

  “I don’t like that guy over there,” I say, nodding my head toward him.

  “So we’ll just sit away from him. It’s not like we’ll be at the same table or anything.”

  “No, we’re leaving.”

  I head to the door, taking her with me. As my hand makes contact with the handle, guilt hits me. I should warn Marshall about Kaylee. I’d want him to do the same for me.

  Except I’m not allowed to even be this close to him, or to contact him in any way. But his clients deserve protection, even if they do use my competition instead of me.

  I glance over my shoulder, Marshall spotted me and is shooting daggers with his eyes. Fuck him. I open the door, and we walk back to my truck.

  “What was that about?” Eloise asks, her brow creased.

  “Nothing. Let’s go someplace nicer. You deserve it.”

  Her brow creases even more, and she mutters, “Okay, whatever.”

  “It’s like Mrs. Singleton used to say, if something’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right.”

  She laughs so I think I’ve convin
ced her. Or at least made her stop asking questions. We get back in the truck, and drive to a nice Italian place just down the road.

  “What happened to burgers?” she asks.

  “Next time,” I say, flashing her a massive smile.

  Eloise doesn’t say anything, and I know she’s contemplating the idea of there being a next time.

  I lead her into the restaurant, and we’re greeted right away.

  “Good evening, table for two?” the hostess asks. She’s smiling but she’s looking me up and down, like I don’t belong in her restaurant.

  “Yes,” I say, my eyes boring into her.

  “Follow me.”

  She grabs two menus, and we follow her to a table by an ornate fountain.

  “This is much nicer, isn’t it?” I wink.

  We order dinner. I have chicken linguine and Eloise has pumpkin ravioli.

  As we eat, we laugh and reminisce about school. Since I moved back to Rochester, I haven’t seen anyone I went to grade school with. It’s nice to think about my childhood, when it was still happy. And it’s especially nice that it’s with Eloise.

  “Where did you move to when you left Rochester?” Eloise asks.

  “Pittsburgh.” I don’t want to have this discussion, especially not now.

  “Did you like it there?”

  “Hated it,” I say and shove a heaping forkful of food in my mouth so I don’t have to say anything else.

  Eloise watches me chew, her eyes searching my face. She’s not getting anything out of me. This is about me and her, and nothing else.

  “I think my sister was in the same grade as your sister,” she says, her eyes fixed on mine.

  Seeing a way to change the subject, I swallow, and ask, “What’s your sister doing now?”

  “She’s in med school. She’s planning to join my parents’ practice when she finishes.”

  The last thing I want to talk or even think about right now is her parents’ medical practice. Just hearing her say the words tenses my shoulders. I exhale sharply, my eyes raking over Eloise. I love seeing her without her ponytail, and her cleavage in that flimsy dress is making me hard.

  “I’d planned to yank on your ponytail as I made you come,” I say, eager to change the subject.

  Her eyes bulge, and I smirk at her.

  “That’s if you can, and a big if.”

  “It’s a promise. I’m going to start by kissing those soft lips of yours, and teasing you with my tongue. Then I’m going to take my fingers, and find that same spot I had you by in my chair, and I’m going to massage it until you’re so wet your ankles are soaked and your mouth is dry. At that point, I won’t be able to resist you any longer, and I’m going to put my dick in you. I’ll be gentle at first, letting you get used to the size and feel of a real man. Once you’re ready, I’m going to pound you until you scream your brains out. By the time I get through, you won’t remember your own name.”

  Eloise sits motionless with her eyes wide and her lips parted as I speak. I don’t even think she’s breathing. I shovel a piece of chicken into my mouth and watch her react.

  Eloise clears her throat, and says, “As long as you’re not just all talk.”

  With a coy smile, I say, “You’re wet right now, aren’t you?”

  She wiggles in her seat, and says with a smile, “This ravioli is delicious.”

  We talk easily as we finish our meals. Neither of us wants dessert, so I pay the bill before Eloise has the chance to demand to pay half.

  As we get back to the truck, Eloise says, “Back to my place now?” Her voice has a slight tremble in it, and none of the confidence she’s had over dinner.

  “Not yet,” I say firmly.

  “Where are we going now?”

  “I thought we’d get a drink.”

  “I thought the deal was dinner.”

  The thought of taking her back to her place now and ripping her clothes off is hard to resist, but I’m having too much fun with her and I’m going to stick to my plan. Eloise chats nervously as I drive to a quiet bar I know.

  “You’re not ready. Besides, aren’t you having fun?”

  Eloise smiles, her lips a tight line. I tap her knee, and drive to the nearby bar. We park, and I lead her inside.

  “Oh my God, it’s Sophie, my sister.”

  Eloise

  “Eloise! Over here!” Sophie yells, and I automatically walk to her table.

  It’s a small bar, and hardly any people are here. I guess Wednesday isn’t a big night for bars. Except for my sister, apparently.

  She’s sitting at a table with three other women. They all stop talking, and watch me as I approach them.

  “What are you doing here?” Sophie asks, standing and hugging me.

  “What are you doing here? It’s Wednesday, shouldn’t you be home studying?”

  She shrugs, and says, “Wednesdays are cadaver days, we always come here to have a few drinks afterwards, to clear our minds of the bodies.”

  Comments like that make me glad I wasn’t able to get into med school.

  “Sounds heavy,” I say, looking at her three friends and smiling.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Gabe reaches the table, and brushes my hand with his. Sophie’s eyes bulge. The eyes of her three friends bulge.

  “I’m here with Gabe,” I say.

  “Is that Gabe? Him?” she asks in a hushed tone.

  I smile and nod, my eyebrows raised.

  “Eloise, I need the bathroom. Come with me.” Without waiting for my response, Sophie takes my hand and pulls me away.

  “Gabe, do you mind?”

  “Go ahead, I’ll get us some beers,” he says, and turns away from the table.

  The washroom is at the back of the bar, and I follow Sophie down the row of wooden tables. She throws open the door, and we step into the cramped, dated space. At least it’s clean.

  “What are you doing with him here? Shouldn’t you two be in a bedroom somewhere?”

  “He insisted on having dinner first.”

  “That’s nice of him.”

  “I just want to get this over with.”

  “So tell him that.”

  “I have. He said I’m not ready yet. That I’m not relaxed enough.”

  Sophie bursts out laughing, her cackle echoing around the small space.

  “What’s so funny?” I demand.

  “He’s probably right. You’re so tense all the time. This is probably why you’ve never had an orgasm before.” She pushes the words out between her chuckles.

  My cheeks turn red with fury, and I fight the urge to slap her.

  “Shut up.”

  Sophie runs her fingers through my hair, and says, “You look amazing. You should wear your hair down more often.”

  “I used that hair curler thing you bought me for Christmas.”

  “Like three years ago? It’s about time you used it.”

  I snarl my lip at her. I take a step back, and say, “You smell like the dead.”

  “Very funny. I had a shower.”

  “Might want to try some perfume as well.”

  “Anyway,” Sophie says in a more serious tone, “that man is sex on legs. Send him my way when you’re finished with him.”

  “You don’t think he’s too rough looking?”

  “That’s his appeal, duh. I want him next.”

  “I think Marcy’s next in line after me.”

  “Screw Marcy, I’m your sister, I get priority.”

  The idea of Gabe with either of them upsets me. For some reason I feel protective of him, and don’t want either of them to go near him.

  “I found him, find your own man.”

  “At least have him take his shirt off for us, so my friends and I can study his muscles. Purely for medical research, of course.”

  “No way. I just told you, he’s mine.”

  She grins, and says, “So this is more than sex?”

  “God, no. Look at him, how could I ever bri
ng him home to Mom and Dad?”

  “Especially now they know he’s a client. But who cares, you’re in this for the sex, remember?”

  “Trust me, I haven’t forgotten. But I don’t know when that’s going to happen. I thought dinner would be it, but here we are, in a bar.”

  “What’s he like to hang around with?”

  Without hesitating, I say, “Lots of fun, actually.”

  “So chill out and relax. Stop worrying about it so much and enjoy yourself.”

  “But I can’t, I just want to get it over with.”

  “Do I have to start quoting you research from my human sexuality class? Get rid of that attitude and relax and enjoy your time with him.”

  My gut is telling me she’s right. I’m having a good time with Gabe. I should stop worrying so much about the way tonight is going to end.

  “I should get back out there, he’s probably wondering what happened to me.”

  Turning, I open the washroom door and go in search of Gabe. He’s sitting alone, at a table as far away from Sophie’s table as possible in the small space.

  “Sorry, sisters.” I say, shrugging.

  I sit across from him. Two beers in frosty glasses are already on the table.

  “That one’s yours.”

  “Thanks.”

  Gabe lifts the other glass and says, “Cheers.”

  “Cheers,” I say, clinking my glass against his.

  “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to sit with your sister and her friends or not.”

  “No way. I have no desire to sit with them.”

  “That’s good. That must mean your sister approved of me.”

  “Do you care?”

  “Only if her disapproval would scare you off me.”

  “Well I’m still sitting here, aren’t I?”

  “I know, I’m enjoying the view.”

  My face turns red, and I say, “You can stop that now, you’ve already got me tonight.”

  “Maybe it’s not just about tonight.”

  Unsure how to respond, I lift my glass and take a long sip. I’d only ever thought about tonight, what I thought was a one-time offer to solve my problem.

 

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