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“I’m running a little late,” Clive replied above the muted cacophony of car engines and horns in the background. “The plane was delayed, so I just landed. I’m going to check into the hotel and then meet my daughter for lunch, so why don’t you go do whatever you need to do and I’ll catch up with you later?”
I glanced down at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Fuck, it was ten after eleven already. Half the day gone because I had to sleep off a night of wild sex.
“Sounds good,” I told Clive. “I’ll see you later.”
I wandered back over to the window to look out at the city again. Off in the distance, a loaded barge chugged through the shimmering bay. When I looked down, I saw the sidewalks teeming with people and wondered if she was down there in the crowd somewhere.
If this whole experiment worked and I started a new life here in Seattle, maybe we would run into each other again, but if not, there was still something new for me here, where my old ghosts couldn’t follow me.
And I couldn’t wait to get started.
Chapter Five
Marcie
“What happened last night?” Frankie practically screeched into the phone. “You gave me a thumbs-up and then—poof, gone.”
I squeezed a bead of toothpaste onto my toothbrush and set it down on the bathroom counter.
“Well, we had sex,” I started carefully, still feeling that delightful ache between my thighs from all the times we’d fucked. “And—”
“Back up,” Frankie interrupted. “Good sex? Bad sex? Don’t leave me hanging.”
I took a deep breath. “Best of my life. He may have actually fucked my brains out. I should have been having sex with older men this entire time instead of screwing around with Lucas for four years.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
I leaned over into the mirror and examined my neck. Crap, he left a hickey. “No. I snuck out after he fell asleep and came back home to crash for a couple hours.”
Frankie laughed loudly. “Of course you did. God, what a boss bitch move. So now that your dry spell’s over, will you be having sex with older men every weekend, or was this a one-time thing?”
I rolled my eyes as I picked up my toothbrush again and stuck it into my mouth. “I’m hanging up now, Frankie.”
“Wait, just one more ques—" she started, but I tapped the “end” button and cut her off before she could get the whole thing out.
Truthfully, I wasn’t sure how I felt about sneaking out while my mystery man slept in the plush king-sized bed. My first instinct had been to stay until morning, roll around again while he pulled another shattering climax out of my body, and then see if he wanted to meet again.
And not just for sex.
But he said he was a business traveler, and I felt almost embarrassed to ask a handsome older man—with some money, if he was staying in a high-rise room at the Pacific Heights Hotel—to go on a date with me, a twenty-four-year-old consignment store owner who was still getting established in her own place. So rather than face the potential rejection, I threw my clothes on as quietly as I could, and with one last backward glance at his big naked body, legs tangled in the bright white sheets, I tiptoed out the door and back to my real life.
Fantasy over.
I finished brushing my teeth and stepped into the shower, noting the pleasant ache between my legs. Nobody had ever dominated me like that before—the demands, the dirty talk, a grown man’s sexual aggression—it was all new to me, and it thrilled me down to my bones. I sighed and leaned against the cool tile of the shower, letting the hot water beat into my skin as my fingers slipped into my swollen folds.
I slowly circled my still-sensitive clit as I remembered when he fucked me against the window the night before. He slammed in and out of me from behind while the cold glass chilled my nipples to diamond-hard points. With two fingers on my clit, he brought me just to the edge, over and over, until, with a sharp bite to my earlobe, he ordered me to stop. Finally, after denying me three times, he sank to his knees and pulled me to a shattering climax with his tongue.
I shuddered at the memory and came hard on my fingers. Then on shaking legs, my thoughts heavy with a mix of arousal, pleasure and regret, I grabbed my pouf and started soaping up my body.
Business traveler, I reminded myself as I washed him from my skin and between my legs.And long-distance never works, anyway. It was better to just enjoy the fantasy, end my extended dry spell and fondly remember the raunchy night of life-ruiningly good sex with a hot older man.
Café Marrakech was just a few doors down from the Pacific Heights Hotel. I parked my car a few blocks away and held my breath nervously as I strolled past the glass-fronted hotel. My mystery man didn’t appear, though, and when I finally exhaled, I couldn’t tell if I was relieved or disappointed.
The café door chimed as I pushed it open, and I spotted my dad right away. His espresso-brown hair, just like mine, gleamed in the light as he bounded forward and enveloped me in a tight hug. I buried my nose in his shoulder and breathed him in, a mix of laundry detergent and Old Spice, and the unexpected tears stung my eyes. My only parent since Mom died ten years ago, and I hadn’t seen him in half a year.
“I missed you so much, Daddy,” I said as he pulled away. The hot tears spilled out of my eyes and trickled down my cheeks before I could stop them.
“Aw, baby girl, what’s this?” He reached out to brush at the salty trail, then pulled me back in to kiss my cheek. “Is everything okay?”
