More Than This

by Alexa Milne

  The first thing I’d noticed was her smile. I’d loved how she’d removed her shoes and rubbed her feet during her talk. I’d switched the place settings at the dinner and sat next to her, finding my gaydar in full working order. We’d spent the night together. I’d proceeded with care, but a few occasions later, I’d discovered how she loved to relinquish control, and how much I loved to tell her what to do. Okay, yes, it was a cliché that someone in control at work wanted to abandon it elsewhere, but I had proof of how often it happened. Ronnie and I had had four glorious months in New York before she disappeared, and I’d had no idea where or why.

  But business news always leaked, and it soon became general knowledge there had been some trouble at the company she’d worked for. People had left without explanation amid questions asked, but few details had been officially released. Ronnie had gone. I shouldn’t have missed her—after all, what we’d had wasn’t serious—but I did. I’d broken my cardinal rule and begun to fuck with my heart, begun to need, begun to daydream, begun to think… No, don’t say it.

  Now, here we were, both back in Britain. I could have asked her why she’d left, but desire had overridden curiosity. If she hadn’t called me, at least I knew where she worked. I laughed at the irony of the situation. So much for being in control.

  That night, I fell asleep thinking about how I could make her mine again. Touching myself, I thought of her face, imagined her fingers, and came so hard I screamed into the darkness. The need to be near her possessed me as much as a desire for her touch. But life had to go on.

  A couple of days later, I made my entrance in another posh hotel, took a glass of champagne and glanced around the large room. People gathered in groups, some standing and some already at their tables. After dinner, there would be the awards and a charity auction. Many of the great and good were here. Business people, pop stars, actors, sports stars and journalists mixed with politicians, all eager to get their pictures in the papers for winning an award from whatever magazine was giving them away. Melanie had sent me. I hadn’t even bothered to look at what the occasion was for.

  For me, these evenings were usually about connecting, finding someone who might please me. If I gained from the arrangement, so much the better, but taking power from the powerful was often enough in itself. People could judge me if they wanted, but everyone had needs. Through no fault of my own, I’d been denied the opportunities my ability deserved—no university for me.

  I’d gone into an office, grabbed chances with both hands and become an excellent judge, or so I thought, of people and their needs. At night I’d checked out certain clubs with clients who wanted discreet ‘help’ and offered the sort of therapy some people desired. It was cheaper for them than paying by the hour to tell someone how much they hated their parents. I might have been an employee, but control came in different forms.

  I found my way to my table. The food, at least, was excellent, even if the company was yawn-inducing. Most of the conversation was dominated by a reality show pair I’d never heard of. Still, I didn’t envy their fifteen minutes of fame. No one interested me. I wanted out as soon as possible. It wasn’t until the auction started that I noticed her easing her way between tables and out of the room. How had I missed her before?

  Excusing myself, I followed Ronnie, expecting she’d headed for the ladies’ restroom. The palatial room was empty, with only one of the four toilet doors closed. Musak played into the area and I hummed along while checking my makeup. When the toilet flushed, I hurriedly entered one of the other stalls. I wouldn’t be able to catch her by surprise when I emerged, because of the mirrors, but keeping my face down, I opened the door, moved behind her then looked up. Our gazes met and she jumped, splashing water over the sink and herself.

  “Cass! What the hell?”

  “You didn’t call,” I said, fixing a sad expression on my face. I stroked my fingers down her bare arm, loving the goosepimples that followed my touch. When she leaned back, I relaxed and placed a string of tiny kisses on the nape of her neck.

  “I wasn’t sure,” she said. Her breathing had increased. “There are reasons.”

  “You didn’t call to say goodbye two years ago either—just left me hanging, imagining all sorts. I thought we had something. I thought we’d gone beyond…” Damn. I’ve said too much. Keep control. Ronnie tried to turn, but I wrapped my arms around her, stopping her from moving, then rested my head on her shoulder and breathed in her perfume. Say something. Don’t let her go without telling her.

  “Did you know I’d be here?” she said. “Are you here for me?”

  I wanted to tell her I was, but I shook my head. “Melanie sends me to these things. I’m supposed to be buying something to represent the company.”

  “She must trust you.”

  I smiled. “You know me. I can make myself indispensable in all sorts of ways.” I slipped a strap of her dress over her shoulder and pressed several kisses to her skin.

  “Someone could come in,” she said, glancing at the door.

  “But isn’t that part of the fun?” I covered her breast with my palm. Under the material, her nipple responded. “I love your new hair color. Red doesn’t suit everyone, but it does you with those blue eyes of yours. Open your legs.” Yes, I was pushing her, but I wanted her too.

  “What?”

  “You heard me, pet. Open your legs. I want to touch you.”

  “We can’t.” She clutched at the sink to steady herself.

  “Do it.” I knew what tone worked with her. If I’d gone too far, she’d tell me. “I want to touch you, Ronnie. I bet you’re wet already, aren’t you? Let me. I want to see your face in the mirror when you orgasm.”

  She moved and I moved close behind her, lifting her dress, placing my hand between her thighs, reaching up until I could push a finger past her panties and inside the warmth and wetness. She groaned. I’d deny it, but the sound went straight to my pussy. Ignoring my own needs, I pressed and rubbed her clit.

  “Oh God, Cass.” Her eyes darkened. I kissed the back of her neck again and she moved her hips. “Harder, please. Don’t stop.” I didn’t. Her body tightened. She stood with her head back and mouth open, then came, breathing my name over and over, mumbling how much she’d missed me, until it all became too much.

  “No more. Too sensitive.”

  I withdrew my hand, reached around her and washed it under the tap while she leaned over the sink, head down. A noise at the door alerted me to someone outside and I quickly moved to the dryer, giving us distance, then, when the person came in, hurried out of the door with no more words. I wiped away tears. My heart thumped as my panic surged. I waited for my fear to subside. Ever since I’d been young, I’d only valued people by what they could do for me, but Ronnie had somehow got under my skin and I wanted more than these fleeting moments of pleasure. In control once more, I didn’t see Ronnie re-enter the main room when I returned to my boring companions. Perhaps she’d cut and run.

  A little while later, after I’d bought supplies for a children’s charity with the company money, a waiter brought a card to the table. Written on the back was a message.

  If you want more than this.

  The words were followed by a date, a place and a time, two weeks from today along with the instruction—pack for a weekend. I was intrigued. Did she want more? She’d underlined than, rather than writing of. We’d have a whole weekend together, not just hours or minutes. Okay, the sex is great, but a relationship? I’d never, but I couldn’t deny feeling lonely or missing her. I knew the hotel. It was right on the seafront and had five stars. A weekend by the sea with Ronnie. I had two long weeks to argue with myself.

  Chapter Three

  Veronica

  The night before two weeks later

  Theresa poured me another glass of wine, despite my protest. “Come on—in a few weeks’ time I’m going to be an old married woman. And you said you have something to tell me.”

  I grabbed the glass and swallowed mo
re than half its contents. I needed Dutch courage, or Italian, in this case. “You remember a while back I mentioned this woman I knew in the US?” I’d had too much to drink that time too.

  “The one who…?” She chuckled while my face heated up.

  “Yes, but that’s beside the point. She’s here in Britain and I’ve invited her to Brighton tomorrow for the weekend.”

  “Bloody hell, sis. Go you.”

  “I’m scared I’ve made a terrible mistake. I want a relationship, but I’ve no idea if she feels the same. I didn’t even say goodbye to her when I fled America. I could be there tomorrow waiting all night.”

  “And if you are, you know and you move on. If she turns up, you find out if it’s more than something casual. You need to talk to her, not just shag each other senseless.”

  I swallowed more wine. “How on earth did you know Marty was the right man for you?”

  “I didn’t want anyone else. I missed him. I wanted to tell him things first. I wanted his opinion first. I don’t know. Not everyone is the same. You told me you missed her, that she was your one regret about leaving America. Now you’ve another chance. If she’s the one you want, go for it. Sometimes you have to put your heart out there and take a risk.”

  A giggle overtook me. “And you write words for a living.” I hugged her. With Mum, we’d been invincible—us against the world. Did Cass have a place in this world? I guess tomorrow I’ll find out.

  I should have called her, casually asked at the firm where she works. What if she doesn’t turn up? Here I was, two weeks after I’d left the note, standing on a balcony overlooking the English Channel at Brighton, waiting.

  My hand went to my mouth without thought. Old habits die hard. No, you don’t. You paid a fortune for those nails. Instead, I paced. Why had I made that spur-of-the-moment decision to book this weekend? I’d asked myself that question over and over. Yes, lying awake, touching myself, I’d thought of her. Theresa was right, though, I’d also found myself wanting to ask Cass what she thought about an event in the news or a program on the TV. I wanted to know more about her for, in truth, I knew nothing.

  As a child, I’d been to Brighton for day trips but had never envisaged I’d be able to afford to stay in the huge hotel on the front and enjoy these views. I sat and picked up my phone, hoping to occupy my hands and my mind. Reception would call me when Cass arrived—or if. I still had no idea if she would turn up. I wasted time scrolling through Facebook and Twitter, letting the sun warm my body, sipping my glass of fizzy water. I wanted a clear head, especially after overindulging with Theresa last night. I had so much to explain.

  “Bloody hell.” I dropped my mobile when the room phone rang. Luckily, there was no damage. I jumped up quickly and answered.

  “Your guest has arrived, Ms. Smith, and is on her way up. We have dinner booked for seven-thirty in your room. Is there anything else you require?”

  “Not for now. Thank you.” I disconnected the call, stood and brushed myself down. I knew she’d be annoyed at the loose dress I’d chosen, but the heat had stopped me wearing something more close-fitting. I also knew she’d enjoy what I wore underneath. I’d chosen to keep my hair long and loose, letting it cascade over my shoulders, rather than up in its usual style. Cliché, maybe, but I knew what she liked. My hands shook.

  Where should I wait? Should I sit or stand? Try to look relaxed? I jumped at the knock.

  “It’s open,” I called, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt.

  The reveal was everything I’d hoped for. Cassandra certainly had style. She closed the door behind her and stood so I could take her in. She wore a pencil skirt suit in a deep purple color with a matching tie and lavender shirt. Even in this heat, her legs were encased in black. Her heels were high, and her black hair caught up in a rigid bun held in place by a shimmering net. My knees buckled and I grabbed at the back of the nearby chair to steady myself.

  “You came then?” I said. “I wasn’t sure if you would.” Her smile, to misquote, launched a thousand butterflies in my stomach.

  “Wild horses wouldn’t have stopped me.” She dropped her case on the floor and closed the distance between us. Raising her hand, she ran her fingers through my hair.

  “This color suits you,” she said. She gently touched my cheek.

  I swallowed hard. “You look amazing.” My mouth dry, I nearly choked on my words. Her eyes twinkled.

  “I’ve come straight from work. I need to change into something more…comfortable.”

  “You look perfectly comfortable already.” And she did. The way she held herself—back straight, never slouching. Sitting, she always crossed her legs at the ankles. I’d often wondered if she’d been to one of those finishing schools where they taught young women to walk balancing books on their heads, or had done ballet as a child. I knew nothing of her background. We hadn’t had that sort of relationship, but now I’d found her again, I wanted more. The big question was, did she? Tonight, I intended to find out.

  “Would you like a drink?” I asked, for something to say. She removed her shoes then sat on the nearest chair and rubbed her feet. I watched, wanting to offer to massage them for her.

  “Something long and cool please.” Her voice had no accent I could make out. She’d never given any hint of her origins, which increased the mystery surrounding her.

  I fixed her a sea breeze cocktail—her favorite—and placed it on the table next to her, then dropped to my knees. My need to touch won out. “Would you like me to take care of your feet for you?”

  Her gaze went straight through me. “I’ve had to stand all day.”

  “I don’t care. There’s lotion in the bathroom. I could get some. You could take off your stockings…”

  “I could, couldn’t I? Would you like that, pet? Would you like me to slip them over my thighs and calves?”

  I nodded, unable to speak for the lump in my throat. She edged up her skirt, lifted one leg and rolled the black nylon down slowly, revealing pale flesh, then did the same for the other leg. “Go on, then, fetch something which smells beautiful.”

  In the bathroom, I was faced with a choice—this was a five-star hotel after all. I found a small bottle of peppermint foot lotion and hurried back. Talk could come later. For now, I simply needed to touch her. She lay back in the chair with her feet on one of the small tables. I opened the bottle and rubbed the lotion onto my hands to warm it. I started with her toes, making sure each got the full treatment. Next came the sole. I was careful not to make her flinch, being ticklish myself. I used my fingertips to press into the top of her high instep, finally massaging her ankle then the whole foot. Her small moans brought joy to my heart.

  “You can do this again, my pet. Now the other one. You could earn a fortune for this service. Hmm, wouldn’t people be surprised to see a partner in Xenon PLC on her knees like this?”

  They’d be surprised by much of what I do. I was only out to a few people. The other partners knew, but I didn’t advertise my sexuality or hide it. I’d never seen why I should announce my sexual preferences when others didn’t have to. Cass lifted her glass and sipped slowly while I treated her other foot. When I’d finished, I remained on my knees, sitting up, straight-backed.

  Cass glanced around the room. “This is a wonderful hotel. Have you been here before? I bet there’s a spectacular view.” She loosened then removed her tie and took off her jacket.

  “I wanted the best for this weekend.” I hesitated. “I thought we might talk rather than… I need to explain what happened two years ago.” Cassandra sat up, placing her feet on the floor, then yawned.

  “Are you tired?” I asked. “You could have a nap if you want, before dinner. The bed is super comfortable. I’ll sit and read on the balcony. I don’t normally get much time to, unless you want to do anything else.” Too eager. Too needy. Too willing to put things off. I didn’t know how long she’d stay—if she’d stay—and just having her there gave me hope. I could watch her sleep. I’d n
ever done that before. I sound like some mad stalker. “Whatever you want.”

  She stretched her arms. “A little sleep would be good. I’ll be alert for later then. I have things to discuss with you too.” She lifted my chin, leaned over, kissed me lightly on my lips then stood. I watched entranced as she slowly undid her blouse, slipped it off her shoulders and folded it before placing it on the back of the chair. After undoing the side zip, she shimmied out of the narrow skirt and let it fall around her ankles before stepping out. Today she wore white underwear trimmed with the palest lavender ribbon.

  “Wake me in an hour so I can shower and change before dinner.” She lay on her side on the bed and fell asleep in minutes. I carried my glass and Kindle to the balcony. Outside, the streets were busy. With the weather being so warm, people swam and splashed in the sea and played on the sand. I put an alarm on my phone, switched on the screen and read.

  The alarm woke us both. My Kindle dropped to the floor. I retrieved it and glanced through the doors. Cass was already awake and sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from me. Without speaking, she grabbed her case and strode to the bathroom. I rang room service, confirming dinner in our room at seven-thirty.

  While I waited for Cass to return, and for the food to arrive, my stomach churned. Could I persuade her to change the dynamic between us—to change the nature of our relationship, if relationship was even the right word? Yes, it had been exciting. I had never felt more alive than when I’d been with her. I’d achieved success against the odds, survived the most difficult time in my professional life and come out the other side. My views were respected and sought after. I was good at my job and proud of my achievements, but no one had ever got under my skin like she had. But would she want the same? Would she be interested in cozy nights curled up on the sofa, watching a box set in pajamas?

  The last time we’d been together in a hotel, we’d been in Chicago overlooking the water. She’d fucked me from behind against a huge wall of windows. Despite knowing nobody could see me through the tinted glass, I’d felt deliciously brave and dirty as I’d held my palms against the pane. She’d pressed my breasts and stomach against the cool surface and reached around to rub my clit, until I’d come hard and fast under her touch. I shivered at the memory. Cass had pushed my boundaries, excited me, like no one else, and here I was waiting for her once more, wanting the excitement and yet, wanting more. But did she have more to give?