by Noelle Adams
“So everything’s going well?” Ashley asks.
That’s the first time I realize that this is more than a friendly conversation. There’s the slightest edge to her tone, warning me that she’s got something to say. Or to ask. “Yes,” I say, telling myself not to overreact or get defensive. Ashley loves me. She wants the best for me. Anything she says or does is motivated by that. “It’s going really well. Better than well. I’m really happy.”
“I know. I can tell. I’m happy for you.” She hesitates, and I swear I can sense her mind churning, deciding whether she should say the next thing. “I really am.”
“If you have something to say, you can say it. I’m not going to get mad. At least I’ll try not to.”
“I know. I don’t really... You’re not worried that he tells you so little about his job?”
I’m not sure what I expected from her, but it’s not that. “No. Not really. A lot of his consulting work is private. He has to sign NDAs for most of it. He couldn’t tell me details even if he wanted to.”
“But don’t you think it’s... Are you confident that what he does is... is good?”
“Good?” My voice breaks on the question, but I’m not really upset. I’m not sure what I am. My head is buzzing, but I can’t identify the feeling.
“I mean that it’s... legal and everything.”
“You think he’s a criminal?”
“No! I mean not like that. I’m sure he does business, but sometimes business isn’t...” She makes a ragged sound. “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t say anything at all. But I’m worried. So is Sean.”
“Sean is worried?”
“Yes. He liked Richard. He really did. But he thought it was a little strange that he was so vague about his work, so he looked into him.”
I’ve been absently unpacking as we talk, but at that I drop a pair of underwear back into my open suitcase. “Ashley!”
“I know. I know. Maybe he shouldn’t have. But he did. He was worried, and he did.”
“What did he... what did he find?”
“Nothing. Not a single thing. Do you know how weird that is? Of course you know. It’s strange. And kind of worrisome.”
“That’s because...” My throat feels like it’s closing up, but it’s not from anger or fear or even defensiveness as I understand it. It’s something else. Some sort of vague, nameless dread that’s rising slowly as we talk. “He works only on referral. He has no public front. It’s not that... it’s not that unheard of. He doesn’t need a website or anything. His work is in huge demand. He’s always having to tell people no.”
“I understand that. But there’s nothing to find. Sean says that he’s never seen someone so off the radar unless they have something to hide.”
I sit down hard on the edge of the bed. “I don’t... I don’t understand. What are you and Sean so afraid of? I can believe that some of what he does is kind of gray, but I know Richard, Ashley. I know him.”
“Do you? Do you really?”
“Yes! How can you even ask that? I’m not a child or a fool. And I know I don’t have much experience with men, but I’ve spent most of my life watching from the outside. Observing. Seeing a lot more than people do who have one bad relationship after another. I’m a good judge of people. You know that.”
“I do know that. And I’m not doubting that you can see Richard’s heart, and it’s a good one.”
“Then what are you doubting? Do you think he’s not really into me? Because I’m telling you that he—”
“Of course he’s into you!” Ashley is getting upset now. I can hear it in her voice. She doesn’t want to do anything to hurt me, even in the interest of helping me. “Gillian, Sean and I never questioned that for a minute. We could both see very clearly that morning we met him that the man adores you.”
That startles me so much I make a choking sound. “What?”
“He adores you. We could see it all over his face. Every time he looked at you. Gillian, I’m not saying he’s a bad man at heart or that he would ever hurt you on purpose, but what if what he does... what if what he does goes beyond what you could morally accept?”
“Beyond what I can...” My mind is whirling so much I can’t quite articulate a clear thought yet.
“Yes. I mean what if he’s a hit man?”
“He’s not a hit man! I know him. He’s not.”
“Okay, okay. I didn’t really think he was. It was more of a hypothetical. That would be far beyond what’s morally acceptable to you. Would you be okay with that?”
“Of course I wouldn’t, but he’s not a hit man. He doesn’t kill people. I can believe he occasionally wades into gray territory. I can believe he might have crossed the line of legal before. But he doesn’t actively, purposefully hurt people. I know it for sure.”
“Okay.” She’s using her backing-off voice now. She’s not going to press the issue anymore. “Okay, I believe you. We just don’t know, and it made us worry. I thought maybe it would make you worry too. So you don’t want to... you don’t want to ask him about it?”
I swallow hard and think for a few seconds before I answer. “Yes. Sometimes I want to ask about it. And I have sometimes in the past. But I have to be careful. I don’t think you understand how new real relationships are to Richard. I mean, you think a relationship is new to me, but it’s nothing to how new it is to him. I can’t push him too hard or too fast. It would hurt him. It would make him close up. And he’d lose all the ground he’s gained in the past few months. I don’t want to do that to him. I want to be... be careful with him. With his heart. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I do understand, Gillian. I completely understand. I just want you to be careful with your heart too.”
“I am. I mean I’m trying. I’m not going into this blindly. I know who Richard is, but I also see who he can be. And I want him to be that person. Because that’s the man I... I...” I trail off, shaking slightly and staring at an empty spot in the air.
“I know.” Ashley’s almost whispering now, like she’s afraid speaking too loudly will make me crack at last. “I get it. I’m sorry if I upset you. Or if this has made you less happy. I want you to be happy. But I want you to be happy for the rest of your life. I don’t want you to be happy for right now but then crushed and brokenhearted down the line.”
“Sometimes that happens anyway even if you make all the best and smartest of decisions.”
“I know.”
“I’ve made smart, safe decisions all my life, but it was partly because I was living in fear. Waiting for the doom to fall if I took even a step out of line. I can’t live like that anymore. I have to do what feels right to me, and being with Richard feels righter than anything ever has in my entire life.”
“Okay. Then that’s what you should do. I’ll be happy for you. I promise.”
“But I will try to... I’ll talk to him. It’s not going to happen overnight, but I’ll try to start poking at his walls a little. If we’re going to have a future, he needs to let me into all his life, not just the parts he thinks are good enough to show me. So I’ll see if we can start working on that. But we’ve only been dating for three weeks. Three weeks.”
“I know. It’s still early. But you’re in pretty deep already. Aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I admit. “I’m in as deep as I can get.”
“That’s what I thought.”
We end the call (thankfully on good terms) a few minutes later. I feel rattled but not really upset. Everything I told Ashley was true. I trust Richard, and I’m not wrong about the man he really is. I know I’m not. There are certainly moral lines I wouldn’t be at all okay for him to cross, but I don’t think he has crossed those lines. He’s simply not the kind of person who would set out to hurt another person.
But I do want him to open up more. He needs to learn how to do so.
Maybe I can help him.
I drink my wine and finish unpacking, feeling more settled now that I’ve worked it all out
in my mind. Richard will call in a little while. Then we can talk for a while, and I’ll feel even better. I’m putting away my empty suitcase when there’s a knock on my apartment door.
Since the exterior door to the building stays locked, no one can wander the halls and knock on my door. So I have no idea who to expect when I go and peek out the peephole.
It’s Richard.
Standing in my hall.
I swing the door open with a squeak of surprised pleasure. “What are you doing here?”
He narrows his eyes. “Not exactly the greeting I was hoping—”
I throw myself into his arms.
He laughs and swings me back into the apartment as he hugs me, closing the door with his foot once we’ve gotten in.
Once we’ve hugged and kissed, I pull away from him just enough to ask, “Seriously, what are you doing here, Richard? We’d decided this weekend wouldn’t work.”
“It didn’t work. Not really. I kept telling myself I’m forty-six years old and perfectly capable of going two weeks without seeing my girlfriend. But then I just gave up and came to see you anyway.”
I’m giggling like a fool. “What about your flight to London? You still have to go, don’t you?”
“Yes. I changed it to leave from Boston tomorrow morning.”
“So you came all this way to spend one night with me?”
His eyes are soft and warm and nakedly affectionate. He’s holding my face with both hands near my neck. “More than enough to make it worth it.”
I’m smiling as he kisses me again, and the kiss ends up with us stumbling toward my bedroom and then falling into my bed. We make love with an almost clumsy ardor. It doesn’t last very long, but it doesn’t have to. It’s exactly the way I want to feel Richard. Know him. Be with him. Love him.
We’re lying tangled together afterward, my cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, when he says, “I never knew it could be like this.”
I adjust my head so I can see his face. “Like what?”
“Like this.” He nods to indicate our naked, entwined bodies. “Sex. I honestly never knew it could be like this.”
My heart throbs with something like joy. “Me either. Well, I guess I dreamed it could be like this, but I never experienced it before.” I kiss him just above his right nipple. “I never experienced a lot before I met you.”
“Me either,” he murmurs hoarsely. “Gillian, me either.”
Ashley wasn’t wrong about some things. I do need to know more about the parts of Richard’s life he’s afraid to share with me. But I wasn’t wrong either.
He cares about me. Deeply. Ashley said he adores me, and I can see it now too. In his blue eyes as they stare up at me from the pillow. Almost awe. Like he can’t believe that someone like me is in his life, wants him for real.
For so long, I honestly wondered if anyone would ever feel that way about me.
Things between us aren’t perfect—they can never be—but I’m not wrong to invest in this. Believe in it.
Believe in him.
THE FOLLOWING WEEKEND, I’m completely naked and clinging to the headboard while Richard is doing some sort of magical routine with his fingers and mouth between my legs.
I flew out to London yesterday since Richard is going to be working there for a couple of weeks. I was tired after the flight and my body’s clock was out of sync with the time zone, so I napped while Richard finished working. Then we wandered a few nearby streets and had a quiet dinner before bed. Since I’ve been to London a few times before, we didn’t have any normal sightseeing I really wanted to do today, but we did some exploring (and I spent too much at shops) before we returned to the hotel to rest for the afternoon.
Resting turned into this. Richard getting very creative with his head between my thighs.
I’ve already come a couple of times, and my clit is literally throbbing in the aftermath. But Richard is giving it little flicks with his tongue that get me going yet again. I moan uninhibitedly and try to fight Richard’s hold on my hips so I can grind myself against him. He teases me some more before he lifts his head to smile down at me.
I whimper. “That’s just mean.”
He wipes the lower part of his face with the back of his hand. “Why is it mean? I thought you were enjoying it.”
“I was going to come again.”
“Yeah?”
“You know perfectly well that I was. You’re torturing me on purpose.”
“I think you like this particular brand of torture.” He lowers his mouth again to mouth that spot on my side that makes me squeal.
I do. It works every time.
Then he chuckles as he returns to his previous activity. This time he lets me come, and I make a lot of embarrassing sobs as I thrash my hips through the spasms of pleasure.
After that, I’ve had enough. I push him away and then push him over on his back so I can straddle him.
“Ah. We’re doing it this way, are we?” He’s smiling up at me with heat in his eyes and tenderness in the curve of his lips.
“Yes. We’re doing it this way. You were getting far too full of yourself, so I better be on top for a little while. Got to deflate that ego a little.”
He laughs again as he helps me position myself above him by holding his erection in place and guiding me down over him.
We both groan softly as he’s fully sheathed. I roll my hips just a little to adjust to the angle of penetration.
Then Richard picks up our previous conversation as if we’d never halted. “I hate to tell you, baby, but this position is doing nothing to deflate my ego. Just the opposite.”
I find the focus to check out his face and clearly see he’s speaking the truth. He’s staring up and down my naked body. My red, flushed face. My jiggling breasts. The place where we’re joined.
“I love to watch you ride me,” he murmurs thickly as I start to move over him, compelled by a deep urgency. “I love to watch you take exactly what you want.”
I make a little mewing sound as my speed accelerates. I close my eyes since the look in his eyes is about to do me in, but I can still feel him watching me. Feel everything he’s feeling for me.
I come on the realization, surrounded by his passion, his need, his ardor. Tears stream down my cheeks as I open my mouth in a silent cry, my back arched deeply and my head hanging backward.
When I’ve recovered from my release, I’m still rocking over him, slower and more rhythmically now. His eyes are still resting on my face. I smile at him, wiping away a few of the tears with my free hand.
My other hand isn’t free. At some point as I was working up toward orgasm, I reached out to grab for Richard’s hand. I was clinging to it as I came, and I’m still holding it now.
He brings it to his mouth so he can kiss the knuckles. “Gillian.”
He doesn’t say anything else. Just my name. I wait to see if he’ll add more to it, but he doesn’t.
He doesn’t need to. I lean over to kiss him, the shift in position causing him to slip out of me. It reminds me that he’s still hard, and he has been for a long time now.
“Aren’t you planning to come?” I ask.
“Well, I’d like to eventually, if you want to know the truth.” His tone is bone dry, and it makes me giggle.
“Then why didn’t you?”
“I thought you might not be done.”
“I am done. I want you to come now too. Do you want to be on top?”
He answers by taking hold of my hips and flipping us over. He kisses me deep and slow before he enters me again and starts to thrust. I’ve had enough orgasming for the afternoon, so I can focus on watching him as he slowly loses control, as his speed accelerates, as the tension on his face starts to break.
He’s grunting loudly to the rhythm of his motion when he freezes, cuts his head to the side, and then jerks against me as he finally lets go. He says my name as he comes. I hear it in the middle of the otherwise wordless moan of satisfaction.
/> I’m stroking his hair and face as his body starts to relax. He kisses me again before he pulls out and flops over onto his back with a groan. His hand fumbles on the bed between us until he finds my hand.
He holds it as we catch our breath and recover.
I get up before he does, mostly because I feel wet and messy and need to pee. When I return to the room, I pull a little gown out of my suitcase and put it on before I return to bed.
Richard has put on his underwear while I was in the bathroom, but otherwise he makes no sign of moving.
I cuddle up beside him, and he pulls the covers up over both of us.
“I can’t believe I have to fly back tomorrow,” I say after a few minutes of sated silence, feeling suddenly glum at the thought.
“I know.” He brushes a kiss into my hair. “The weekends aren’t nearly long enough.”
“They’re definitely not. Being in a long-distance relationship is hard.”
“Yeah.” He sounds as unhappy about my leaving as I feel.
“I wouldn’t have thought it would be this hard for me. I mean, I’ve been alone most of my life. It’s not like it’s new to me to spend my evenings alone. But every night I lie there and count the hours until I see you again.”
He chuckles. “Same here.”
I hesitate before I add, “The truth is, although I’m doing fine financially, I don’t really want to spend all the extra I have on weekend trips all over the world.”
“I know you don’t. We can’t go on like this indefinitely.”
There’s a new note in his tone, and it makes my breath hitch. I pull away and turn on my side so I’m facing him. “What do you mean?”
He meets my eyes. “I mean exactly what I said. This arrangement can’t go on forever.”
“But... But what else...?” I’m not sure whether I’m excited or terrified by what’s about to happen. “What else can we do?”
“We can make a new arrangement.”
“How? We live in different cities, and both of us travel all the time.”
“But that doesn’t have to continue indefinitely.”
