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“I’m more of a fuck-me-till-we-come type,” she whispered in my ear, biting my ear lobe.
I kept my eyes in front of me, but I was very much aroused by her aggressive come on. She was an attractive and confident woman who knew what she wanted. She was touching me now, stroking my erection through my pants.
“How about I come up for a drink?” she said softly.
“Rather not,” I said, shifting in my seat to shrug off her hand.
“I have some work to do.”
“Tonight? Now?” she sounded incredulous. She was evidently not the kind of woman who heard no a lot. But I wasn’t that easily led on by others. Even if my body indicated that I was interested.
“Yes,” I took her hand and put it back in her lap without looking at her.
I didn’t like the idea that she had simply assumed I would sleep with her because she was sexy and assertive. Or that because I had reacted to her touch, that I couldn’t control my impulses or desires. At the hotel, I got out and wished her a cordial good night. I didn’t even glance at the driver. I wondered how often this sort of thing happened.
The truth was, I might have slept with her a few months ago.
But I didn’t want her.
Not now.
I wanted someone else.
