The One Real Regret

by Janet Nissenson

  He picked up his cell phone from the dining table to check the time. “Just as I thought. The car service I arranged through the concierge will be here to pick you up in less than half an hour. So as tempting as you are, I’d better let you get dressed. Ah, and you’ll be needing this.”

  Max helped her up and then retrieved a large shopping bag embossed in gold leaf with the hotel’s logo.

  “Not that I’d object in the least to seeing you in those delectably lacy things you were wearing last night,” he told her warmly, “but I thought you might appreciate having clean underthings. Along with something a little less formal than a black dress and high heels. I hope you like them, Jill.”

  Bemused, she took the bag from his outstretched hand and couldn’t suppress a little squeal of surprise when she inspected the contents - a pair of dark wash jeans, a sage green cashmere sweater, adorable black ballet flats, and a matching bra and panty set of cream lace.

  As she continued to stare at the clothing he had evidently purchased for her - exactly when she had no idea - Max seemed anxious by her continued silence.

  “I hope they’re all the right sizes,” he told her worriedly. “I just took a quick glance at your other things while you were making coffee, and then asked the concierge to do his best. But if you don’t like them, then of course we can very easily send them back and -”

  Jill forestalled whatever he might have said next by impulsively flinging her arms around his neck and giving him a loud smooch on the lips. “Not like them?” she asked incredulously. “Silly man, of course I like them! They look gorgeous, definitely the nicest things I’ve ever owned. But I don’t want you buying me things, Max, especially since - well, we barely know each other, and it’s not proper, and - ”

  This time he was the one to cut her off, pressing a finger against her lips. “And nonsense. That sounds like one of the hopelessly old-fashioned rules your grandmother drew up for you. As though you’d be looked at as a kept woman if you dared to accept a small gift from a man. Look, it was simply a matter of practicality is all. You need to get back to your place to pick up clean clothes and things, and you didn’t happen to have anything else to wear this morning so I took the liberty of ordering these few pieces. That’s all there is to it. And,” he added ominously, waggling that same forefinger in warning, “don’t you dare offer to reimburse me for these. All I want you to do, sweet, is say thank you, Max, I adore them, Max, and I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Max.”

  She giggled uncontrollably, and then with mock obedience repeated his exact words back to him before heading off to change.

  ***

  “I can see now why that grandmother of yours made you quit the swim team once you started, ah, developing. Mmm, if I knew you didn’t have such a brilliant financial mind, I’d suggest you pursue a career as a swimsuit model. You look sexy as sin, even if it’s not a bikini.”

  Jill impulsively slid a hand up Max’s bare, sculpted chest. “And you look like a model for Men’s Health or one of those other magazines with buff guys on the cover.”

  He gave one of her buttocks a quick squeeze, not seeming to care if anyone else was looking, though the indoor lap pool was largely deserted. “Now that we’ve finished ogling each other, let’s start working off some of those brunch calories, shall we?”

  Jill easily fell into a comfortable pace swimming laps back and forth in the heated Olympic-sized hotel pool. Unsurprisingly, Max was a far stronger swimmer, lapping her multiple times as he pushed himself through a punishing workout. She was more than content to keep up her slower, steadier pace, too happy with having access to such a fabulous pool to feel the need to rush. And having her handsome, sexy lover swimming in the next lane only added to the almost euphoric sense of happiness that seemed to surround her this afternoon. The entire day, in fact, had seemed like a fantastic dream, one that she never wanted to wake up from.

  The clothes he’d ordered for her had fit like a dream, and judging by the look on Max’s face when she’d walked out of the bedroom, she thought the slim fitting jeans and figure hugging sweater were well worth the exorbitant price he’d likely paid for them - the price tags having all been discreetly removed ahead of time. The car that had driven her to and from her house had been a BMW this time, and the driver had waited for her patiently while she’d dashed inside and quickly threw the things she would need in a bag.

  Of course, Casey and Shoshana had followed right on her heels, asking all sorts of questions and practically demanding information about the previous night and this morning. Casey had gushed over the new clothes Max had bought for her, guessing that the jeans alone had cost a hundred and fifty dollars. Shoshana had been far more interested in the more intimate details of her night with Max, but all Jill had really been willing to tell her extremely nosy roommates was that on a scale of one to ten, last night had been a fifty. She’d hurriedly promised to tell them more when she returned home tomorrow night, but for now she really needed to get back to the hotel.

  Jill had ignored the pouting expressions on the other girls’ faces and more or less ran back out to the waiting car. A quick glance at her phone had revealed that she’d managed to pack some clothes and toiletries and grab her laptop and study materials in less than twenty minutes time. Max was answering some emails when she arrived back at the suite, and had looked visibly surprised to see her back so soon.

  “Are you sure you packed everything you need?” he’d asked in disbelief. “I didn’t expect you back for at least another half hour.”

  She had boldly slid onto his lap and twined her arms around his neck. “I had extra motivation to hurry back,” she’d whispered, just before kissing him.

  But despite his hungry response to her kiss, Max had insisted that it was still much too soon after their morning lovemaking for a repeat performance, and suggested they go for a swim instead. She’d agreed reluctantly, and changed into the dark blue one piece swimsuit that Max apparently still found sexy despite its modest cut.

  After what seemed like an hour, Max finally slowed down the frenetic tempo of his strokes and swam more easily alongside her for a few more minutes. Both of them flipped over into a backstroke so they could converse as they continued swimming leisurely. By then, however, Jill’s limbs were starting to feel the effects from so much rigorous exercise, and she didn’t argue when Max suggested they had done quite enough for one afternoon.

  She rinsed off quickly in the adjacent locker room, changing back into the new jeans and sweater Max had bought her. They had high tea in the beautifully appointed lounge just off the lobby, and Jill once again had to pinch herself to make sure this wasn’t all part of a dream. Here she was, having tea in the most extravagantly expensive hotel in town, chicly dressed in a brand new outfit, and seated across from the handsomest, most sophisticated, and sexiest man she had ever met. She didn’t miss the covetous, admiring looks Max received from nearly every female who walked by, and fought off the urge to reach across the table and hold his hand, thereby proclaiming to all of those avaricious women that he belonged to her.

  But she merely took a sip of her tea, studying the suave, refined man who sat across from her. For once he wasn’t wearing a suit, but the superbly tailored dark gray trousers and black wool pullover sweater were every bit as classy and expensive-looking as his usual daytime attire. His dark hair was still slightly damp from the shower, and she longed to comb her fingers through the thick waves. Already a faint five o’clock shadow was beginning to materialize along his cheeks and chin, though Jill decided she rather liked the sort of dark and dangerous appearance the stubble gave him.

  One corner of his sinfully full mouth quirked up as he observed her observing him. “You have very expressive features, you know,” he told her in amusement. “I wouldn’t advise you to ever play poker for real money because you’d lose badly. And I know exactly what that look in your eyes means, love.”

  She blushed a little beneath his knowing reg
ard. “Really? Tell me then, since you seem to be such an expert.”

  Max picked up her hand and interlaced their fingers together. “All right. It means that you’ve had quite enough of afternoon tea and would prefer to spend the remainder of the day doing something far more pleasurable. Am I right?”

  Her cheeks grew even hotter at the husky timbre of his voice, along with the heated expression in his own eyes. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Then your wish is my command, sweet.”

  He signed the guest check hastily, more or less scribbling his name, before guiding her out of the lounge and directly to the elevators. Mindful of the other occupants, Max merely kept a hand at the small of her back during the ride up, though she could feel the barely leashed tension in his body just from that light contact. As for herself, she was even more anxious than she had been last night, because this time she knew exactly what to expect. Her anxiety this afternoon, however, had little to do with fear and everything to do with desire.

  A desire that was quite obviously returned by her lover, given the way he swept her up into his arms impatiently the moment they were back inside the suite. Never breaking stride, Max carried her effortlessly into the bedroom, then deposited her on the bed none too gently. Before Jill could offer up even a half-hearted protest, he’d stripped her naked while he remained fully clothed, then knelt in front of her before lowering his head between her parted thighs.

  “That lesson I promised you,” he whispered just before running his tongue along her slit.

  “Ah, God!” she groaned, her hips thrashing to and fro as he proceeded - as promised - to demonstrate the art of oral sex, an art of which he was obviously a veritable master.

  Jill was far too aroused to feel any sort of embarrassment at this very intimate act, and could only gasp and moan with each sweep of his tongue along her labia, or each time he sucked her clitoris between his lips. And when he began to slide his fingers in and out of her wetness while flicking her clit with his tongue at the same time, she cried out helplessly, feeling the now familiar approach of her orgasm.

  She was sweaty and dazed and too limp to move afterwards, and could only gaze up at him through half-shut lids as he quickly undressed and re-joined her on the bed. But her eyes flew open in surprise when he once again slipped two fingers inside her vaginal passage.

  “I bought a tube of lubricant when I got condoms earlier,” he murmured as he continued his exploration. “But you’re already so wet, sweet, so ready for me, that I don’t think we’ll need it after all.”

  He rolled on one of the newly purchased condoms and then slid inside of her with one smooth stroke, causing both of them to gasp at the unexpected suddenness of his penetration. Max propped himself up on his forearms, staring down at her with an expression of lust, tenderness, and some other emotion she couldn’t quite interpret at the moment.

  “I think,” he whispered raggedly, “that you might have to make another trip home to pack more things. Either that or let me take you shopping. Because I already know that one weekend with you isn’t going to be nearly enough, Jill. I’m going to want you with me every single day I have left in Seattle.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jill smiled and gave a little wave to the security guard who kept watch over the private bank of elevators. Seeing that she was carrying several bags, plus her overloaded backpack, the uniformed guard hurried over to hold the elevator door open.

  “Sure you don’t want me to call a bellboy over to help you with all that, miss?” queried the guard.

  She shook her head. “I’ve got it all balanced, but thank you! You’re so kind.”

  The guard grinned at her as the elevator door shut, and Jill wondered how often - if at all - the guests here at this fancy hotel actually bothered to say thank you to the staff for the many services they provided. She had made it a point these past few days to say please and thank you as often as possible - to the doorman, the concierge who worked exclusively for the occupants of the executive suites, the housekeeper, the waiter who brought up room service, or the bellman who delivered packages. Most of them had looked startled at being thanked so profusely, but their pleasure at her acknowledgment had been evident. Max had teased that they simply enjoyed hearing her soft, honeyed Southern drawl.

  As the elevator rose to the uppermost floors, Jill thought in amusement that a girl could really get used to living this way. It was Wednesday, and tonight would be the sixth consecutive night she would be spending here with Max. She now had more of her clothes and toiletries and books in the suite than he did, and it hadn’t taken her very long at all to make herself at home. Tonight she was cooking dinner for him, which was why she had half a dozen grocery bags looped over her arms. Fortunately, her classes ended mid-morning on Wednesdays, so she’d had plenty of time to buy groceries at her leisure before having to change clothes and head to the office.

  Jill grimaced as she began putting away food into the refrigerator and cupboards and thought about her job. Max was well into his second week of the in-depth consulting job he’d been hired to do, and tensions around the office continued to increase on a daily basis. She’d noticed that more and more of the staff were working longer hours, not hanging idly around gossiping or otherwise wasting time, and that the overall atmosphere seemed anxious and edgy. Her friends in the office - Trina, Roslyn, and the others - were becoming increasingly worried that their jobs might be on the line, and a few of them had discreetly begun to polish up their resumes and check online job listings.

  And Allison had been even more of a stark raving witch than ever, constantly snapping at whoever crossed her path, and had been especially unpleasant towards Jill. Just yesterday, in fact, Allison had screeched at her for no apparent reason, yelling that she needed to work faster, and that if she made even one tiny error she could kiss her job good-by immediately. Jill had been mortified by the rather loud tongue lashing, and had wanted to crawl under her desk and hide when she realized Max had overheard a good part of Allison’s tirade. He’d had an awful look on his face, one that would have struck fear in the heart of most mortals, and Jill had shivered a bit, relieved that his anger hadn’t been directed at her.

  He had brought the subject up over dinner last night, of course. After learning how much she loved sushi and Japanese food, he had taken her out to a little place not far from the hotel. It hadn’t been especially fancy, but the food had been the best Jill had ever tasted.

  “Does that bitch make it a habit to scream at you like a fishwife loud enough for the entire office to hear?” he had asked, his irritation obvious.

  Jill had shrugged, not wanting to dwell on the matter, or for Max to be in a bad mood. “She’s usually not that loud, no. And God knows why I keep putting up with that sort of abuse. I keep telling myself that it’s just a matter of pride at this point, that I refuse to let her force me out of a job that I know I’m good at. I figure if I quit then she wins, and I’m not going to let that happen. So, if Allison likes it or not, I’m hanging around until the bitter end. Which, for me, either means graduating this June and getting a full-time job, or getting laid off once the cuts start happening.”

  “No employee deserves that sort of verbal abuse,” he’d bit out. “And especially not someone who works as hard as you do, Jill, or who’s as intelligent and capable. Well, I’m a firm believer in karma, and Ms. Sommers is overdue for a large helping of it. Now, no more talk of work for the rest of the evening. Here, try a piece of this yellowfin tuna, I think you’ll enjoy it very much.”

  Jill had been sorely tempted to ask him exactly what he meant about Allison and karma, but she’d kept quiet. She had been very, very careful not to pry about any details concerning his ongoing evaluation of Pour Elle, not wanting to give the impression that she was being nosy or trying to influence him in any way. Max knew that she had no vested interest in what happened to the company in the long run, in the cuts to the budget and workforce and other changes that
would have to happen if the business could be salvaged. He was well aware that this job was a short-term one for her, that she could easily find comparable part-time employment if necessary, or fall back on her savings as a last resort. But he had also learned that she had several friends in the office, and the last thing she wanted was for him to worry that she would spread gossip or share information with any of them. She had been relieved, therefore, when after their initial conversations about the whole matter Max hadn’t shared any additional details.

  And of course both of them had been extremely careful to keep their relationship a closely guarded secret. They avoided each other in the office, especially since more and more employees were working later hours, and Jill did her best to turn a deaf ear whenever anyone mentioned Max’s name. They left the office at separate times, and thus far had mostly either dined in one of the hotel restaurants, ordered up room service, or found a place within walking distance of the hotel. The only people, in fact, who knew anything about Jill’s relationship with Max were her three roommates, and they had not only been supportive but downright enthusiastic about the situation.

  She’d been pleasantly surprised when Max had offered to accompany her back to the house on Sunday afternoon so she could gather up more of her things, though she had warned him to expect her roommates to be more than mildly curious. He had shrugged off her concerns, and had been nothing but polite when introduced to Casey and Shoshana. Tam, predictably, had been closed up in her room studying.

  While Casey had remained behind in the living room to chat with Max, Shoshana had hustled Jill into her room to help her pack. While there, Jill had rather meekly wondered if she was really doing the right thing.