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He smoothed his shirt with his hands and walked to the door. All of a sudden, he stopped and glanced over his shoulder. Then he walked over to me and lightly kissed my lips—brushing his thumb against my cheek.
I wanted to speak, to ask what he was thinking, but he pulled away and left.
This time he was gone.
Recess (n.):
Temporary withdrawal or cessation from the usual work or activity.
Andrew
I’d broken a lot of rules in my life, but sleeping with an intern was probably one of the worst ones. There was no precedent for this, and that terrified me.
The second I left Aubrey’s apartment, I did what I normally did after f**king someone I met online: I went home, showered, poured a glass of my favorite scotch, and pulled out my laptop—preparing to search for the next.
Except this time, I didn’t want to search for a next. I wanted to f**k Aubrey, again and again. I wanted to hear her scream a little louder, feel her body wrapped against mine, and see her face as I buried myself deep inside of her.
Damn...
I couldn’t believe this. I could count on one hand the number of women I’d thought about after I left a hotel, and it wasn’t because any of them were memorable in a good way. And the ones that were good, were just “good”—never amazing, like Aubrey.
A part of me felt bad for leaving her right after we finished, for not saying a word, but I had to leave.
I didn’t do pillow talk conversations after sex. Ever.
Even though I was more than tempted to drive back over there right now and claim her again, I had to make myself accept a very harsh fact: I was never going to sleep with her again. It was against my rules.
***
“Where is my coffee, Jessica?” I called her desk. “Why hasn’t Miss Everhart brought it to me yet? Is she late today?”
“No, sir.” She sounded confused. “It’s only seven thirty...”
I looked at the clock on my wall and sighed before ending the call. I was on edge for some reason, and I didn’t like it.
I’d failed to get any sleep the night before and I’d purposely ignored Aubrey’s midnight text. It’d read, “Can’t sleep...Can we talk about what just happened between us?”
The answer was no.
Our conversations were long over. There was nothing more we had to discuss.
We talked. We f**ked. That was the end of us.
I pulled up the Dating-Match website, determined to get her out of my mind. All I needed to do was find someone else, and she would become a drop in the sea of other endless women—a fleeting memory that I would halfway remember whenever I saw her gorgeous face.
>“You said you weren’t my type when I asked what you looked like.” He pulled away from my mouth, but he kept his thumb against my clit. “But you clearly are. Why did you lie about something as simple as that?””
“You didn’t tell me what you looked like, so—”
“Stop deflecting.” He hissed, and took a step back. “Tell me the reasoning. I’ve already figured out your reasoning for the other bullshit lies. By the way, no self-respecting lawyer would ever let another lawyer do their work for them.”
“Only a self-absorbed ass**le who wants to seem deeper than he really is would call himself Thoreau.”
“Good to finally see the version of you that I remember.” He took another step back and crossed his arms. “Answer my question.”
“Fuck you.” I scoffed. “I told you I was sorry, begged you to listen to me, and now when you feel like talking, you think you can barge into my apartment and make me?”
“I haven’t made you do anything.” He smirked. “Yet.”
