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Chapter NINE
I'm on the edge of my seat. Or I would be if Jared's legs weren't stretched around my chair, caging me in, holding my full attention, my eyes fixed on his.
Shivers run up and down my limbs as I wonder what happens now. Is he going to sign the check and then take my hand to lead me across to the elevators and up to his room? Will he wrap me into his arms once the doors slide closed on us and cover my mouth in a mind-blowing kiss? Is he going to lay me down on his bed and slowly remove all my clothes until I'm naked and totally bare to his gaze?
Being that vulnerable to Jared Helmsley is an exhilarating dream even though it's something I’ve never allowed with any other guy.
Jared isn't any other guy.
I want this.
Whatever it is, a one night quickie, a holiday fling. Because it can't be anything more when we live on opposite sides of the country. But somehow, right now, we've landed in the middle to meet at the perfect moment for this.
Whatever this is. I want it. And I'm confident now that he wants it too.
But instead of signaling for the check, he orders a bottle of wine and some tapas.
“You must be hungry after all that shopping,” he says, swiveling his stance away from me.
There's that sinking disappointment again. His hand leaves a palm print on my ribcage, growing cool now that the heat from his skin has vanished. I want to pull him back to face me. I want to bury my face into his neck and inhale the scent of him. I'm starving but not for Spanish snacks. I want to lick across his rough skin and explore every part of him with my tongue. And I need the same from him.
“Yes,” I murmur, unable to verbalize, outside of my filthy mind, exactly what I'm hungry for.
Much as I'd like to demand he fuck me right now, Jared isn't a man to take orders. I get the feeling he does things in his own sweet time. The problem is I might lose my mind if he takes too long.
A raft of small plates arrives not long after the wine, which is excellent. I'm no expert but even I can taste the difference in a good vintage. The food is no less exquisite. Jared holds up a calamari ring to my lips.
“Here, you have to try this.”
I wrinkle my nose. I only eat squid when it's heavily doused in crispy batter. He pops it into his luscious mouth, tempting me to dive in right behind it, then lifts another.
“Open up,” he insists with a playful grin. “If you don’t like it you can spit it out in my hand. I won't tell.”
I do as he says and a delicious array of taste sensations explodes across my tongue. When I force myself to chew, the meat is tender and not at all slimy.
“Wow, that was unexpected,” I say.
I realize I need to open up to everything Jared wants to share with me and not come with preloaded expectations other than trusting him they're going to be incredible.
I want to ask him to open up too. But I resist saying, 'So tell me all about yourself', as being a totally lame conversation starter and opt instead to drink him in, savoring one fine drop at a time.
“Mellie said you went to college together.”
Wrong. What the fuck is wrong with me that I had to highlight the one thing that's holding him back from me as far as I can see. Do not bring up the age difference.
“We did,” he says, without a wince. “Todd and I were on the football team together. Mellie I don't remember if I'm honest.”
He leaves out the 'It was so long ago' part but it hangs there anyway. At least he said 'Todd' and not 'your dad' which would have made me feel hopelessly young. I want to say I don't care about years but that seems like it would only make it even more pronounced.
“So have you been to the gallery?” I change tack desperately, trying to get us on an even playing field before the age thing grows two heads.
“Not for a while, since it opened. Do you like art?”
“I love it. My favorite is the guy who does light installations. Just a few colored bulbs create an entire world.”
“Dan Flavin,” he says. “One of my faves too.”
I am so relaxed sitting with Jared in the turntable womb-like chairs, chatting about every little thing. He knows so much and has all-encompassing interests. When I bring up a book in the latest litRPG genre, he's heard of it and has no qualms about asking me to explain it to him. And all about pokemon-go which I admit to being crazy over for about two weeks. He's cool with letting me know something more than he does. Not like most guys who are always shouting over top of me and telling me what to think.
It's dark out when Jared finally gets the check. I can't believe almost six hours has whipped by like six minutes. When I stand and allow him to help me on with my coat, quivers of anticipation curl through my tummy. I don't need my coat if we're going upstairs. I'm totally ready for this. The tops of my thighs are damp I notice, my panties wet through with how ready I am.
He takes my hand and leads me through the crowded bar toward the elevator almost exactly as I imagined earlier. When he pulls me into the car going down, I snatch my hand away from him with a sulk protruding my lower lip. His eyes search mine and force them to remain buried, as he reaches for my hand again with a smile. The pout remains on my face. Instead of up, he's taking me to the lobby to show me the door.
We get out but Jared waits, one hand holding the elevator, the other holding me in his grasp. The crowd of people piles out then he tugs me back in. The doors slide shut again and as they press their last inch, that point when some latecomer could insert themselves, he drags me into his arms.
His mouth takes mine hungrily and I fall against him, my tits mashing against the rock solid wall of his bulging chest. His hands wrap my entire body, gripping me firmly as mine are everywhere, clawing at him, tugging him to me with all the needy desire I've pent up for the last week. His tongue controls my mouth, delving deeper with every commanding probe.
I want to suck him all in, the delicious taste of him, the slightly leathery aroma of his skin. His upper arms are hard swells of undulating muscle I could stroke and dig my fingertips into for a year and never have enough. Hungry, ravenous, I push my pelvis into his thighs and feel the diamond hard bulge pressing back against me.
I'm about to tear at his jeans to free the cock I'm dying to hold when the elevator doors slide gently back and we face the amused stares of three middle-aged guests waiting in the parking lot. Smooth as satin, Jared takes my hand again and leads me out, politely greeting the hotel clients before walking me through the lot toward a low-slung, futuristic-looking car the color of burnt oranges.
