by K. M. Liss
I wake at seven the next morning, with light flooding into my room through the window. I lay there for a while staring blindly at nothing, thinking.
Did I dream it all?
I quick touch to my shoulder tells me, no, I definitely didn't. The tender skin still smarts at my touch. I press the end of my injured finger and it throbs. I look down at my scratches and seethe.
How dare they do this to me?
In the cold light of day I'm thinking I might change my mind and report the bastards to the police for their vicious attack. But then I remember, I don't want Sean to get in trouble. Would they charge him with assault? Probably not, but I don't want to take the risk.
It's much too early to call Charlotte. I want to explain what happened last night. To clear the air To tell her the real reason I went home. But I don't dare to wake her. Charlotte doesn't get up very early on her day off and she won't want to chat at seven.
As I swing my legs out of bed, I see my dress lying on the floor, where I'd stepped out of it the night before. I pick it up and put it on a hanger and finger the parts Sean mended. A sense of understanding races through me, as I remember all that happened last night, here in my apartment. The way he left, so resolutely, has demonstrated the moral side of his character. The way he wouldn't take advantage of my delirious emotional state. He could so easily have stayed the night. I almost begged him to make love to me. But he didn't. He knew it was wrong, even though we both wanted it like nothing else. He surprised me so much last night, in almost everything he did. I can't quite process it all.
I'm dying of thirst and I get up and go through the living room toward the kitchen.
En route, I see a note on the dining table table and walk across to pick it up. A big smile rises to my face as I read it.
“Lissa,
I found it so hard to leave.
I wish I could have stayed.
But it wasn't the right time.
Call me as soon as you read this.
Sean
x”
His cell number is written in large numbers and underlined twice with an arrow pointing to it.
I get my cell out of my bag and quickly scroll through the latest stuff on there. The usual friends messages and my mom. Nothing urgent.
It's a bit early to call Sean. I don't want to wake him, if he's sleeping. So I send him a text.
- Thank you so much for looking after me. I'll never forget your kindness, ever. xx
In the kitchen, I pour myself a large glass of orange and mango juice and then go back to my room, and climb back in bed for a while.
My cell bleeps about a half hour later.
- Looking after you was a real pleasure. Be ready at 12.00, I'm taking you to Ai Fiori for lunch. Dress up nice. xx
I'd forgotten about his lunch offer. The one which I'd tried to turn down last night in the bar. I'm now very keen to go. I've not been to a swanky restaurant before, and I'm pleased to be asked on such a beautiful date. And even more pleased to be going with him.
I laze around for a few hours, in a varying range of moods. I'm excited, nervous, angry, elated, tearful and now and then, a little nauseous, as details of my assault flood my memory.
I finally drag myself up and out of my emotionally induced ennui, at half past ten.
I put Charlotte's forthcoming reaction to my date, to the darkest reaches of my mind, as I send her a tentative text.
- Happy birthday! How are you?
A reply comes back a few minutes later.
- Completely fucked. Trying to sleep. Spk tomorrow.
I'm sensing a frostiness in her unwritten words. A brush off. Or maybe she's got company? Reece could be there? It looks like I'll have to wait to tell her things, which is a shame, because she's my best friend and I really need to share the event of last night with another woman. But knowing Charlotte as I do, I couldn't possibly interrupt her birthday lie in. She takes lie ins very, very seriously.
I head into the shower, trying my best not to look at the scratches and the bandage on my nail.
I still can't believe it happened.
What kind of bastards would do this to me at my birthday party?
My emotions are swinging from fury to being very upset.
I think I need a sedative or something to calm myself down, and I open the cupboard over the vanity, looking for something that might help.
After a good hunt around the apartment, all I can find is a packet of painkillers in Joanne's room. It'll stop the soreness for a while, I guess, although it won't do much to stop what's going through my mind.
I step under the hot water. It powers down, soaking me in a blissful, steamy waterfall. I wash myself thoroughly, shampooing my hair into a thick and creamy mass, and smothering my body in my favorite raspberry and vanilla shower gel. It's a highly sensual experience. My eyes close in enjoyment and desire rushes through me in a powerful, hot wave. My mind is completely flooded with Sean. My senses are drowning with the memory. I'm bombarded with the feel, the smell and the sublime taste of him. I don't think a guy could ever taste better. I puff out a long breath, as my stomach and sex muscles contract hard. The whole physical him takes the forefront of my thoughts, but I also think how well he treated me last night. That makes me want him so much more. I'm so looking forward to seeing him and spending some time in his dreamy and more than welcome company.
As I leave the shower cubicle, I'm scrubbed and buffed to within an inch of my life. And I feel so much more than clean. I'm rejuvenated and reborn and full of hope, excitement and enthusiasm.
I know my euphoria is probably short lived, but I'm grateful for the moment.
I tip my head down, wrapping my long hair in an absorbent pink towel. Then I rub a circle in the steamy glass and poke my tongue out. Amused by my bright pink, blurred reflection.
Entering the coolness of my room, I shiver, as I sit at my dressing table. My face returns to it's usual color and I try to apply my make up carefully. Then I dry my hair and style it. I straighten it with my irons and wear my long fringe sweeping down, across my face. He hasn't seen this look, as I usually wear it over to one side or parted. I think it suits me like this.
All round, it's a sexy look and one I hope he likes.
On close examination, my ex student wardrobe is very unsuitable and lacking in 'occasion wear'.
Jeans, jeans and... oh look...more frickin' jeans. Pants, a few skirts, sweaters, t-shirts, club wear... hell, I don't have anything to dress up nice in. Not swanky kind of dress-up, anyhow...
I rather stupidly start to panic about what to wear. In the end I find something which has potential in Joanne's wardrobe. A black and grey, abstract-patterned, short sleeved stretch dress, with a low scoop neckline. It shows my curves, and reaches modestly to my knees. My short, snug-fitting, black leather jacket, will go well with that. I also borrow Joanne's strings of semi precious pearls and matching bracelet for a touch of class. She doesn't mind me borrowing her things, sometimes she borrows my stuff...my jeans, my purses and junk jewelry.
For shoes, I go for the same black high heels, which I wore to the party last night.
I'm ready by half past eleven and sit around waiting nervously, examining every crack in the ceiling and wall.
Sean in jeans and a shirt was hot. Sean in a suit is beyond imagination and all description. I'm overwhelmed at the door, as this masculine vision appears before me, in a black suit, cream shirt and much too sexy tie.
“How are you feeling?” he says. The words float through my head and I vaguely notice his eyes are kind and concerned.
A wave of delicious little prickles arise on my skin as I cast my eyes over him.
“Much better thanks,” I say, pulling myself together and dragging him inside.
As we look at each other, I'm feeling no embarrassment. No emotional hangover from the events of the night before. His perfect little note cleared that up very well.
“I didn't really know what to wear. I've never been to a pl
ace like Ai Fiori before.”
His eyes run all over me, head to toe with very obvious approval.
“You're beautiful. Could you be anything but beautiful I wonder?”
I blush with pleasure.
He wraps his arms around me and gently kisses my cheek. I'm swamped with his gorgeous fragrance, and the whole him. He smooths my hair and and winds a length of it round his fingers.
I pull back a little, to ease the tension, and so I can look at him.
I need to ask a burning question.
“How's Jase today?”
“He didn't come home last night,” he says quietly.
“Oh really?” I reply, in surprise.
“I spoke to him about an hour ago,” he continues.
“And...?”
“I asked him to leave. He's taking a flight at four.”
“You asked him to leave? So what happened? You obviously had some bad words?
“More than a few, and very choice ones.”
“Were they about me?”
“You and someone else you know pretty well. He needed to be put straight about a few things.”
My mind quickly puts two and two together.
“Was he with Charlie?” I ask this question, with my heart pounding, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah, I'm sorry, Lissa.”
Charlotte's 'completely fucked' comment is taking on a whole new meaning. I'm angry with her, and him. She didn't want Jase. She'd shown sub-zero interest in him. And he hadn't shown any interest in her either. Not that Charlie ever needs much in the way of interest to sleep with a guy. But even so. It's like they're both trying to get at me, and Sean, for something based purely on their suspicion. Although I can't deny they do have some cause, its shitty, nasty and immature, fuck them, let's do it, tit for tat, behavior.
“Well,” I say, a little stunned. “I guess they can do what they like though, can't they?”
“They can and have, but I couldn't help feeling disappointed in him, and...well... kinda fucked off about it,” Sean says, echoing my thoughts exactly.
“So what bad words did you have, about me?” My eyes search his.
“That's not something I want to share. But I thought you ought to be aware of what happened, that's all.”
“Does he know we're having lunch?”
“That's all he knows. You and I are none of his goddamn business, are we?”
“Right,” I say gazing blindly at him, my mind ticking away like crazy and my stomach churning.
I'm now wondering what Jase has said to Charlie and hoping that's absolutely nothing about anything.
“Lissa, I don't want to talk about them. I'm really not interested in Charlie and Jase and what they do anymore. I'm in New York for another ten days, before I leave for London. And as far as I'm concerned, this is our time, not theirs.”
My heart skips a beat at his sentiment, and his offer of ten days of togetherness is wildly appealing.
Ten whole days? Oh bliss, bliss bliss, thank you God.
“You know something? You're so right.” I agree.
*
“So,” he says, munching his focaccia bread enthusiastically. I'm really enjoying watching him pop pieces into his mouth. It's a sensual feast for my eyes. And it's also giving me a hot flush. “Tell me absolutely everything about yourself.”
I laugh at his cheeky grin. “I think I can manage a quick life resume.”
He leans forward, his arms on the table, paying me some close attention.
“Oh no, I want the long version. From the moment you arrived in the world and took your first beautiful little breath.”
“Oh ha ha...” I giggle.
He smiles at me and his face is so goddamn handsome I could dive over the table and kiss him for a week.
“I love your laugh. Can I order more of it please?” He grins widely.
“I can't promise much in the way of laughter, I'm kinda emotionally unstable right now. It'll probably be wild hysterical laughter, if anything.”
“You're coping very well so far, keep it up.” He covers my hand with his and his eyes probe mine, sympathetically.
“I'm not really. It's all hovering just below the surface.” My eyes well up and I fight the tears down. He picks my hand up, in his, and smooths it gently with his thumb. I forget my distress very quickly with the sublime wave of warmth flowing through me. His touch is pure magic. His fingers soothe and scorch me at the same time. I close my eyes and savor the strength of feeling he arouses in me.
“We can go if you're not comfortable being here?” he suggests quietly.
I open my eyes to his. I stare into those steely gray circles, and see so much warmth in them. How could I have ever thought them wicked and bad? They're kind and beautiful and, in fact, they make my heart stop beating. I take a shuddery breath and pull myself together, before I lose consciousness.
“I'll live, I suppose.” I try to smile.
“That's my girl,” he coaxes me.
“You really want my life story?”
“As much as you want to tell.”
I begin to tell him about my family, Chicago, and a little about my sister Georgia and how she died. On the whole he's quiet, listening to me rambling away, commenting now and then, sympathetically. Then I tell him about my years at CUNY, my degree, and how I met Charlotte, while we both worked on the student magazine, and how she dropped out of university life after the second year.
I leave out the miserable elements of my love life. It's not first date material, or any date for that matter.
I'm beginning to realize, Sean is just what I need. He's the perfect cure for my relationship ills. A short term fling. Someone nice who makes me feel good. A caring, understanding guy. I'm not expecting anything more than our short liaison. I don't expect he's the type to settle down and lead the kind of life I'm looking for, so I'm clear where I stand from the start. This is not going to be a great love affair. Besides, I imagine he has a busy life to get on with after me. Jetting off here, there and everywhere, modeling all around the world.
I'm just a small part of his life, I guess. But it's a part I want to enjoy to the full, while it lasts. And he seems to be of the same mind. I try not to think beyond the ten days and what happens after he returns from London or wherever. This is short term, period.
In between chapters of my epic life story, I find out a few interesting details about him. He was brought up by his grandmother, although he doesn't say why. And I also get information about his professional life. He's worked for some big names in fashion, and he's one of a few dozen male models who are freelance. He has his own agent in New York. Someone who gets him the best deals. These little details roll out in between the three courses of our lunch.
And my God, I don't think I've ever, ever, had a more divine lunch in my life.
I'm pretty sure it's all down to the delicious company I'm sharing the delicious food with. But in any case, the chilled zucchini soup, with Mayan prawns, basil and lemon...the spaghetti, blue crab, bottarga and chillies...and the colorful crème glace covered in fruits and purees...all disappear into my mouth, in a dreamlike, oral ecstasy - washed down with a glass of the perfect, sweet, white wine.
To my surprise he orders himself a glass during dessert and the attentive waiter delivers it almost instantly to our table.
“You told me you didn't drink, Sean?”
“I wasn't going to, but as it's our first date, it's a good reason.”
“Aww, yeah, it is...”
He touches his glass to mine in a soft ting of sound.
“So...working at Coffee Haven is just a stop-gap, is it?”
“No it's my career. And proving to be very challenging so far.”
He raises a perfect eyebrow and a smile twitches at his lips.
“Your coffee making skills are pretty good, but obviously you could do a whole lot better.”
“Tell me about it. But I can't get anything better. I've been trying for goddamn
ages. I've only had two interviews and the competition has been so fierce.”
“I could help you, if you like?”
“You could? It would mean a lot to me, just to get an interview, it really would.”
“We'll talk some more tomorrow. Right now there's something else on my mind,” he grins at me, leans across the table and traces his finger across my lower lip, his eyes following its sensual path. My heart jumps out of my chest. “I'll be honest and tell you something, I've been thinking about you...for days.”
“I've been thinking about you a whole lot as well,” I admit.
“I know you have.”
“So you're a mind-reader, are you?”
“I don't need to be. I could see you were more than interested. You looked like you wanted to eat me.”
I giggle. “You are very edible, Sean. I imagine most women look at you that way.”
He laughs at me.
“Yeah, they do, but I'm real fussy about who I let eat me.”
He picks my hand up.
“Wanna come back to my place. We can do more than just think. That's if you want to.”
I giggle nervously as my stomach rolls in anticipation.
“That would be very, very nice, thank you,” I say pathetically.
He chuckles, low and dirtily, as he leans in close and brushes his mouth against mine, the end of his tongue licking a slow, wet trail of lust-filled promise across my lips.
I gasp in reaction as his leg pushes in between mine under the table, and his hand finds my bare knee, his finger softly stroking my inner thigh.
Everything flares to life in my body. My heartbeat ramps up to a dangerously fast rate.
“It's getting way too hard sitting here.” His eyes burn into mine with his suggestive tone.
I can see he's mentally fucking me over the table...and my God, I want the real thing.
“It is a little testing, and it's getting very hot in here too.” I try not to groan as another wave of heated and delicious sensation travels up my thigh. My eyes feast on his and his finger inches a little higher up my leg. I open them subtly so his hand can progress further, resting my hand loosely over his
“Come here, baby.” I really love him calling me baby. That alone gets me flying to the moon. His hand tucks behind my head as he pulls me close and kisses me again...so lightly...and it's the sweetest torture, leaving me dying for more. How I want and need that hard pressure of his mouth possessing mine, and the feel of his tongue probing everywhere. I want some more of the way he made me feel last night...so completely wild inside.