AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I can tell from the way she’s withdrawn from me slightly that Tess is unsure about what our next step forward should be, but I know two things for sure: this is going to last for as long as I can make it last, and the thought of Tess doing to another man what we did together last night would lead to a very painful confrontation for the other man involved. I found I have a very possessive, protective instinct when it comes to Tess, and the only way I know how to make sure that nothing bad happens to her is to keep her by my side at all times.
I’m not creepy about it, but the thought of someone treating her badly or giving her collection a bad review makes my blood start to boil. We touched on the subject of her cheating boyfriend last night on the yacht.
“He was having an affair with his boss lady,” Tess told me in a very matter-of-fact tone, although I could sense she was still hurting about it. “He works in sales and she was division head. He wouldn’t leave me, so she called. Actually no, she texted and sent pics first. They were doing all that hot office sex with one another, you know what I mean? On the desk, on the swivel chair, against the wall stuff. And I got the ‘I’m tired, love, let’s order in and have an early night’ side of him. That’s the problem with long-term relationships, we start to think it’s normal when that happens and don’t probe too deeply because a domestic situation is so comfortable and you don’t want to rock the boat, y’know?”
I had to laugh. “No, Tess, I don’t know. You’re my first domestic situation.” And that made her giggle, and then we made love again. When did I stop calling it fucking and begin calling it making love? I guess it was when she was sitting on top of me, riding my cock and taking such pleasure from how it was making her feel, and then she looked down at me, and we had a connection. I’ve never felt such a surge of emotion inside me. It was outside the realm of appreciation of beauty and sensual enjoyment. It was deeper than that. Because I felt her all the way to my core. To my soul.
She’s one very special lady. Even my mom is in raptures about her. I woke up on Tuesday to a slew of texts from my parents. When could we all hang out together again? When could Mom get a tour of Jimmy Jolliffe’s warehouses?
My God, Mom’s already talking about Mr. and Mrs. Jolliffe as if they are in-laws. I told Tess how much my parents valued a happy wedded life, but only when their sons were ready for it, and now this. I don’t feel pressured, though, I just feel like a scoundrel for selling them a fake. For all my mom’s comforting statements about ‘you’ll know when the right girl comes along, Roscoe, so don’t rush it’ and ‘you’ll drop that silly three-strikes rule of yours, Roscoe, when you’re mature enough to realize how important it is to forgive and forget, and then move on.’ All this time my mom has been longing for me to find a normal relationship. How can I feel bad and happy at the same time? I guess I’ll have to ride this pony till it bucks me off.
We’re having breakfast out by the pool this morning. I look at Tess playing one of the apps on her phone and something begins to worry me. “What do you usually like to do for fun nights out, Tess? I reckon it’s not that much fun for you to be dining out with Japanese businessmen looking for a merger.”
She looks up from her phone, then switches it off, turning sideways on the lounger to give me her full attention. “Umm, my friends and I never went out to go crazy. We would go uptown to visit trendy wine bars and sometimes go clubbing, but with rent and the student loan to pay off, it was more about the dancing than anything else. Drinks are so expensive in all the licensed venues, so I would use it as a chance to test drive some fabrics, see how they held up against smoke and wine spills. I like to hook up with all my Jersey friends who have moved here, but then it’s strictly beer and fries because we’re all so broke.”
It’s as if she’s talking about another world. Clubbing, dancing, chatting in wine bars with old high school friends. Suddenly, I feel as if what I do and who I am push me into a rarefied atmosphere. I’ll be forty in four years’ time, and it shows.
“Let’s go out tonight,” I say. “You choose the venue and I’ll tell George to bring the car around at nine.”
She laughs, “Nine? No club will be pumping until at least eleven. And that is the early crowd. But I’ll bite. Where were you thinking of going?”
I think back to where I used to take women before I met Tess. “I’ll see what’s happening at the Met or the Knick. If you want to dance, I'll check if 1 Oak is still a thing. I have one of the founders in my address book. If I don’t, Karl or Franklin will know.” She stands up and stretches. “In that case, I’ll go and whip up a dress from this new chiffon I got from one of dad’s suppliers. They claim it’s flame resistant, but I have my doubts. Isn’t it funny how cigarettes are banned, so now everyone’s smoking medical weed instead? A few drops of ash on my dress should be enough for me to check the material’s performance.”
I grab hold of her hand as she passes me. “Are you starting right away? Is there time for us to…?”
She gives me a small smile, but pulls away. “You know how grateful I am for everything you’re doing for me, Roscoe. And…for meeting my sexual needs in such an…indescribably wonderful way that night on the yacht, but…”
I know, ‘but’ she doesn’t want to get her wires crossed. If she allows herself to fall into a sexual relationship with me, she thinks her feelings will get hurt at the end of our agreement, so she’s pulling out now before we get in deeper. That’s why she’s still down on her floor and I’m up on mine.
“I understand. All’s good. Go work on the dress and surprise me later. I’ll tell George to come pick us up at eleven.”
And then she’s gone.
* * *
Tess and I don’t enjoy caning drinks when we know it’s going to make us feel all sorts of rotten the following day. I have meetings with the accountants and lawyers tomorrow and Tess is usually immersed in her collection, rising before dawn, brewing some coffee and then spending the rest of her time pinning swatches of cloth to the dummy forms. I’m looking forward to our evening out, however, because it might serve to lighten the air of tension between us since our long night of fucking with the fireworks.
Her dress is sensational, a light chiffon creation embroidered with gold in all the strategic places that makes her look as if she’s naked underneath, but Tess reassures me it’s something called skin tone lining and goes on to say there’s over twenty-five different skin tone lining colors to choose from, and that it is really important to get the match perfect for a realistic nude illusion. Tess is slightly business-like when she talks to me, turning toward me so our knees touch but nothing else. She has her emotions under strict control. When I try to take her hand, she withdraws it saying, “Roscoe…let’s make tonight about dancing and having fun, shall we? We need to start dialing down our act, because you told me that it looks like the Japanese deal will be going through quicker than you thought. We need to make a ‘breakup’ seem believable to your mom and dad…”
We’ve agreed the breakup side of the act must come from me because it will be more believable that way. When I asked Tess why, she looked at me with her innocent blue eyes and said, “Just tell your family I struck out, Roscoe.”
Since meeting Tess Jolliffe, I have never felt like such a capricious, arrogant prick in my life. Something about her is making me realize that I kept the three strikes rule for too long. I should have left it back in school where it belongs. I had my reasons to drag it for a while, but now I wonder if I should have dropped it sooner.
The club we chose is strictly members only, so there’s no need for a VIP section. The hostess shows us to our reserved table and the server brings us a bottle of champagne in a large bucket of ice and an unopened bottle of whiskey. The hostess seems surprised to see me. “Mr. Bridges, we haven’t seen you here for months. If you stay after one, you might bump into your brothers.” I smile and shake my head. “If I see them, I’ll leave via the fire escape.” Tess and the hostess laugh loudly at this remark, they both have a handle on my brothers by now. I shift closer to Tess in the booth and put my arm around her shoulders. “Tess, I feel like a duck out of water. There’s no way I’m getting on that dance floor and the music is so loud I can’t hear what you’re saying. Am I too old?”
She leans closer so I can hear what she’s saying. “The most important thing is that you are not too old for me, Roscoe Bridges!”
CHAPTER16
TESS
Whenever I’m with him, I want to dance and laugh and scream out to the world at the top of my lungs how good Roscoe makes me feel, so I guess I’m in the right place to do it, even if I don’t say the words out loud. I’ve felt torn in so many ways since Independence Day, I’m not sure how I feel because of how fast things are changing. But my mother always used to tell me when I was a teenager, “Tess, girlie, sex is a game changer and don’t you ever forget that!”
I couldn’t have put it better myself.
Caught up in the moment, I pull Roscoe onto the dancefloor and tell him to observe if he doesn’t want to participate. He leans against one of the pillars, watching me sway my body in time to the rhythm. There are so many hot young girls around me, all trust fund babies or the daughters of magnates, tycoons, and captains of industry.
And the men dancing around me aren’t really men. I would describe them as youths, still young enough to be caught up in the moment and willing to live for the excitement music, dancing, and flirting gives them. My mind flips back to how Becky Bridges wanted to discuss what DJ to book for the reception and for just one moment, I think about asking who this DJ is and putting their name forward, but then I come to my senses.
