One Indecent Night

by Hargrove, A. M.

  Six

  Evan

  The dinner was perfect. Jean was at his best and I don’t think I’d ever eaten better food. Sylvie was smitten with him and he with her, as they conversed in French. She didn’t think I understood, but I was fluent in the language too. I smiled as they chatted about Paris, wine, bread, and the wonderful cafes she loved so dearly. And then as she moaned when she tasted each bite, I found myself in need of adjusting my hardened cock. Her mouth, her lips, the way she wrapped them around her fork, reminded me of the way she’d sucked me off and it was difficult not to imagine her doing it again. And again. And again.

  “Evan, don’t you agree?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re a million miles away. I was telling Jean that this is the best meal I’ve ever eaten. Don’t you agree?”

  “Absolutely. Jean, c’était excellent.” I patted my stomach for emphasis.

  “Ah, merci, monsieur. For you, anything.”

  He finished up and left us.

  “Jean is very infatuated with you, Sylvie.”

  “Stop. We were only talking.”

  “Of course, but his eyes lit up when you did. That’s great though. A chef like Jean needs to hear from his customers how wonderful he is. I’m happy he liked you. Someone else likes you too.”

  “Oh, and who might that be?” She teased me.

  “I don’t know. Care to take a guess?”

  “You are a very nice dinner companion and know how to spoil a woman.”

  “Sylvie, I don’t do this with every woman.”

  Her brows knitted. “Why not?”

  “Because there are few if any I care to date.”

  “I find that difficult to believe.”

  “There are many who’d like to date me, but they’re usually after something other than me.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs. “You wouldn’t because you’re not an opportunist. That’s what I like about you.”

  “And here I thought it was all about that one night. You surprise me, Mr. Thomas.” Her gray eyes sparkled with mirth. She had a way about her that made me laugh.

  “Sylvie, would you like to go somewhere and dance?”

  “Dance? I … sure. Let’s go dance.”

  “I know a place a few blocks from here, would you rather walk or ride?”

  “If we go slow, I’d prefer to walk.” She aimed her thumb at her scrappy, and sexy-as-hell, sandals.

  “I get it. You can hang on to me, and if your feet hurt, I’ll carry you.”

  “Not on your back, I hope. There’ll be no ass slapping tonight.”

  “I was rather hoping there would be,” I said in a disappointed tone.

  “Sorry to burst your bubble, cowboy. No giddy-upping for you.”

  I chuckled and the check arrived. Her head popped up as she tried to see the bill.

  “What are you doing, nosey?”

  “Just curious. Never saw any prices.”

  “In a restaurant such as this, they never post any. And, cherie, it’s none of your business.” I dropped my Centurion Card down and handed the portfolio to Phillipe when he arrived.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He returned quickly and I left both him and Jean sizable tips. Then Sylvie and I left for the dance club I was known to frequent on occasion, but only because I owned it. I would keep that little secret to myself. It was exclusive and for the elite, and I made sure it stayed that way. When we got to the door, the bouncer recognized me and allowed us to pass through. There was a cordoned off section that we entered and the waiter immediately came to take our drink order.

  “Good evening, Mr. Thomas. Will it be the Glenfiddich 30 tonight, sir?”

  “Yes, Joey, and the lady will have …” I waited for Sylvie to fill in the blank.

  “I’ll take a club soda with a twist of lime.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “No alcohol?”

  “I believe I’ve reached my limit.”

  “Fair enough.” She was being careful tonight, which I respected. We’d had a glass of champagne, and two glasses of wine already. But there had been several hours in between, with lots of food, so she’d had plenty of time to metabolize it.

  “I’m nowhere near drunk if you’re concerned about that,” she said. “I work at a rehab center and it isn’t often that I have more than a couple of drinks in one night.”

  “I understand completely and you don’t owe me an explanation for how much you drink. Ever.”

  “I was only thinking about that first time we were together. I downed that Reposado, as you told me, like it was water. That is totally uncharacteristic of me.”

  “Sylvie, you were at a wedding reception, celebrating. You just got carried away.”

  “Boy, did I ever. And I sure paid for it. It took me a few days to get over that hangover.”

  I took her hand and said, “I should’ve tried harder to stop you, but you were so convincing.”

  A snappy dance tune started playing so I asked, “Shall we?”

  “Sure.”

  I guided her to the floor, and we began moving to the beat. The woman had game when it came to dancing. I remembered that from the reception. She was all over the music. Hips, feet, arms, coordinated together, and all I wanted to do was watch. Too bad she couldn’t perform just for me. Naked. Fuck, why did I have to go there? My dick responded and that was the last thing I needed.

  Holding out my hand, she took it and I pulled her against me as we moved to the beat. It was impossible for her to ignore my erection as it pressed against her. But there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. The woman aroused me. End of story. The song ended and the music changed to a slow beat. I kept my arms around her as we continued to dance. Her arms crept around my neck and she looked into my eyes.

  “This is very nice,” I said.

  “Yes, it is.” She rested her cheek on my chest, and we swayed in sync to the song. I didn’t want to release her when it ended, only I had no choice. Hand in hand, we walked back to the table.

  After we finished our drinks, I asked her the million dollar question.

  “Sylvie, would you be interested in seeing my place or are you ready to go home now?”

  Seven

  Sylvie

  As much as he tempted me, I knew if I went home with him, I would end up spending the night. That was the last thing on my agenda.

  “I’d prefer to go home. But this has been such a lovely evening.”

  His expression caved. “And you’re sure I can’t talk you into it?”

  “You probably could, but then I’d hate myself in the morning.”

  “I see.”

  He took my hand and escorted me out of the club where a long line of limos waited. His was the fifth one down. “Then shall we?”

  Robert opened the door and Evan gave him the instructions. We were quiet the entire ride home. I couldn’t decide if I’d made the right choice or not. My body definitely said no, but the angel on my shoulder was high-fiving me.

  When we pulled in front of my building, he opened the door and offered me his hand. We walked side by side to my front door.

  “Is it really that bad?”

  “What?” I wasn’t following.

  He pointed to the sign on my door. Chuckling, I said, “Depends on the day.”

  “And what about now?”

  “Tonight it’s a happy home.”

  “That’s nice to hear.”

  “Evan, I had a really great time.”

  “So did I. I wished it had ended differently, but I’ll take what I can get.”

  “Don’t sound so desperate.”

  “It’s not desperation. I just know what I want.” He ran his index finger down my cheek and I shivered.

  “Oh? And what’s that?” I asked, playing it off.

  “Sylvie, do you even have to ask?”

  “Maybe I just want to hear you say it.”
/>
  “You.” He leaned close and I was ready for his kiss. Only I was disappointed when he pressed his lips to my cheek and left. I watched him walk to the limo, get in, and then it drove off. It was only after that I remembered I’d never gotten my thong back. That was the reason I’d agreed to the date in the first play. That sneaky bastard! He’d tricked me after all.

  I went inside and thought about the evening. It was by far, the best date I’d ever had. There was no doubt the man had money. I’d never thought about it before. But then, why should I have? He was Pearson’s friend and had never given a rat’s ass about me. True, I’d only been a kid, and then in high school, while he was already in college. Why should he have cared about me? He’d been a jerk and Pearson had always come to my rescue. When I went to college, Pearson told me to stay away from him because he wasn’t my kind of guy. I asked him about it and he just said he was a big player. So that was that. Whenever he was around the family, he’d never brought a date, so I assumed he still was, since he was single.

  My current dilemma was, should I tell Pearson about this? Would Evan tell him? I needed advice. I would talk to Rose, but I doubted she would keep it from Pearson. How could she? They were married now. Only a few more days until they were back from their honeymoon, thank God.

  After I finished my usual nighttime routine of washing my face and brushing my teeth, I crawled into bed and tried to read. There was a slight problem. All I thought about was Evan and his sexy face and body. Why did this man want me? He could have his pick of any number of women. Why me? That kept bothering me. I didn’t run in his circles. I didn’t even live in Manhattan, for Pete’s sake. That was why I needed Rose’s advice.

  Sleep eventually came, but it was after two when it hit. Then at nine, my doorbell rang.

  “Who in the hell would dare wake me up on a Sunday morning?” I growled to myself. Maybe they’d go away. It rang again. And again. Throwing the covers off, I stomped to the door, expecting to see my mom. Instead there was a delivery man, holding a box, a large bag, and a giant cup.

  “Morning miss. I was told to deliver these to you in person. You are Sylvie West, right?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Great. Can you sign here?”

  He pulled out a piece of paper with City Express on top. I signed and he left after he handed me the goods. I juggled them, kicking the door closed. There was no question who these were from. Dragging myself back to bed, I pulled the covers up and sipped the coffee. Mmm, it was good. Then I opened the bag. Inside was a warm cinnamon scone. How did he know I liked these? Taking a bite, the thing melted in my mouth. Now, the box. I untied the fancy red ribbon around it. When I lifted the lid, there was lots of tissue paper with a gold sticker holding it together. Hmm. My curiosity was getting the better of me. Inspecting the sticker, I saw three initials. Oh my god. EMT. Was that supposed to mean emergency medical technician? I laughed at my little joke. Of course they were his initials, but who in the hell had gold stickers made with their initials? Then I wondered what the M stood for.

  Unwilling to ponder that any longer, I ripped into the layers of tissue paper, and gasped. On display in the box were at least a dozen or more lacy thongs, mine sitting on top. There were all sorts of colors, some with pearls, bows, and some even plain. At the bottom was one pair in plain white cotton. It made me giggle. That’s when I found his note.

  * * *

  Sylvie,

  You thought I’d forgotten, didn’t you? How could I possibly do that? It’s all I’ve been thinking of. Here’s a new supply to add to your current one. I hope they please you. Last night was much more than I expected. I hope you want to do it again soon. I know I do.

  Yours,

  Evan

  * * *

  My heart raced as I read the note. How could a simple note have that effect on me? I knew the answer to that. Evan was every woman’s dream. What was my problem? Why didn’t I roll with it?

  My phone rang and I knew it was him. I decided to have a little fun.

  I answered in the sultriest voice I could conjure up. “Good morning. Thank you for my gifts. I have to say my favorite is the lacy black one with the bows on the front and back right where my—”

  “Sylvie, what in the world are you talking about?”

  “Mom!” Oh shit, did I ever screw up!

  “Yes, this is your mother. Do you care to explain what all that was about?”

  “Er, no, Mom, I don’t.”

  “Who is giving you black lacy gifts with bows on them?”

  “Never mind, Mom. What’s going on?”

  “You need to go to church, that’s what’s going on. When was the last time you went?”

  “Uh, I can’t say.” I cringed inside, knowing what was coming next.

  “Get dressed right now. Your father and I will pick you up in forty minutes.”

  “Mom! You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m completely serious, Sylvie West. Good Lord above. What kind of daughter did I raise? And that tone of voice you used. After your behavior at your cousin’s wedding reception, I thought you’d gotten over your wild ways. Apparently, I was wrong.”

  “Mom, I was only joking around.”

  “Didn’t sound like any kind of joke to me. Now you’d better be ready. The service starts at eleven and you’re going to be there. It’s obvious you need more prayer in your life.”

  “Mom. I’m thirty years old. I’m old enough to decide if I need to go to church or not.”

  “Evidently, you’re not. Forty minutes, Sylvie.” And she hung up.

  Shit. I clambered out of bed and hit the shower. Damn you, Evan, for getting me into trouble. I felt like a twelve-year-old again and all because of a box full of sexy thongs.

  Eight

  Evan

  Sylvie should’ve opened her gift by now. I’d received confirmation from the delivery service by text that she’d signed for it. Around eleven, I called her, but it went to voicemail. I tried again thirty minutes later, and the same thing happened. I waited an hour this time and again got her voicemail. Either she was avoiding me, or she was away. I gave up. If she wanted to talk to me, she’d have to call me back. I was already sounding desperate and needy. Any more and I’d sound like a stalker.

  Around two, my phone rang. When I checked to see who was calling, I was happy to see Sylvie’s name.

  “Well, hello there.”

  “I’m going to murder you when I see you again.”

  Laughing, I said, “I take it you didn’t like the scone.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “The cinnamon scone. You didn’t like it?”

  That did bring a chuckle out of her. “No, you … ugh. You won’t believe what happened.”

  “I’m all ears, sweets.”

  She told me about her mom calling. My first inclination was not to laugh, but it was impossible. “Did you repent in church? I mean, after all, you are a naughty girl.”

  I heard her suck in her breath. “Me? You’re the naughty one sending me all those thongs.”

  “But I was only returning yours and it wasn’t exactly saintly as I recall.”

  “Yeah, well.”

  “And there was a plain white cotton one in the box. Did you notice that?”

  “I did.”

  “That was my favorite,” I confessed. When I picked it out, the idea of white cotton against her creamy skin heightened my lust for her.

  “It was?”

  “Uh huh. I sent the others because they resembled yours.”

  Silence greeted me at first, and then she said, “Oh.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question, Sylvie.”

  “What question?”

  “Did you repent?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And what did you repent for?”

  “I’m not telling you, Evan. What does the M stand for?”

  “The M?”

  “The gold sticker on the box had EMT on it. I know it wasn’t for em
ergency medical technician.”

  “Very funny.”

  “The E is Evan and the T is Thomas so the M?”

  “Wait. You thought the sticker was my initials?”

  “Yeah.”

  That’s when I lost it. Completely. It took at least a minute for me to stop laughing.

  “Are you finished?” she asked.

  Clearing my throat, I said, “I think so. Sylvie, those initials are the store’s, not mine, although I didn’t even give that a thought when I sent the box.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Why would I have gold stickers with my initials on them?”

  “Yeah, I wondered that myself.” Then she snorted. God, that snort always got me.

  “The store is Erotic, Magnificent, and Tasteful. It’s a lingerie shop that caters to everyone, from the chaste to the very bold, hence the name.”

  “I see,” she squeaked.

  “Did you like them?”

  “Yes, thank you, but you didn’t have to be so generous.”

  “Sylvie, do you have plans for next Saturday night?”

  “Um…”

  “Excellent. Be ready at six. Casual. Jeans this time. See you then.” I ended the call quickly, not giving her time to back out. I’d have to figure out something to do, but that shouldn’t be a problem.

  I had work to do today and planned to get a lot done. EMT. I laughed again. My initials. To be a fly on her wall when she’d seen that.

  Grabbing a cup of coffee, I walked into my office and flipped on the computer. In truth, I could work from home every day unless I had client meetings, but I didn’t like the image that set. All four monitors jumped to life as I went to work on projects I’d been researching for future additions to the firm. Cole had sent me the information he’d found and afterwards I’d thoroughly investigated the ones I thought might be moneymakers. I created files on each of them and forwarded them to Cole. I was testing him to see if he would turn anything up. If he did, then whichever one didn’t hold up would be trashed. If they were clean, they’d be sent to compliance for further analysis.