Turning off the water, Chelsea looks at her reflection in the mirror and says, “Here goes nothing.”
She opens the door and walks out to her very surprised husband. Seeing her naked form, he rushes to finish the call and says, “Okay, well we’ll call you tomorrow. Text us if anything happens tonight, love you, bye.”
Lifting an eyebrow, Chelsea comments, “That was rude.”
“I don’t care,” he answers, quickly pulling his shirt off. Moving closer to her, he asks, “Are you sure?”
She smiles up at him and answers, “No, but I don’t care.”
“You know you’re beautiful, right?”
“Even if I’m no longer the girl you fell in love with?” Chelsea deflects the compliment.
“You are the woman I continue to love every day and the mother of our daughter, care to tell me what’s missing?”
“Nothing at all, darling.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
December 12, 1:03 A.M.
Hyper aware someone from their company might catch them, Michelle and Keith sneak into room 702 and lock the door tightly behind them. Once inside the protection of the suite, not bothering to turn on lights or take a single step further, they are helpless to keep their hands off each other. Keith backs Michelle against the door and grinds his hips against her, making sure she feels her affect on him. His lips crush hers, smearing her lip-gloss. She weaves a hand behind his head, thrusting her fingers through his hair.
Genevieve, the relatively new HR director and self-appointed community relations officer, was unaware the office holiday party was usually a sedate affair at a restaurant on Ventura, usually on some unglamorous Tuesday when employees would much rather be out shopping for holiday gifts. Tonight marked a drastic change from previous years. Genevieve had decided no ‘Secret Santa’ exchanges. No tacky decorations. This was an adult party with an open bar. Partners, boyfriends, spouses entirely optional. Children were no invited. Having scouted various locations, Genevieve settled on deal with the Winchester to rent out the Colt for a private party and was pleased when they suggested an up and coming DJ, a young woman who spun under than name DJ Golightly. Ginger had even negotiated rates for those who wanted to stay over. Sure, it was a Sunday night and they’d all have hell to pay tomorrow, but at Jones International, an advertising firm, they play as hard as they work.
Having joined the company as a junior advertising executive in February, Michelle McKenzie had been instantly drawn to the West Coast regional director, Keith Drake. Although she knew getting involved with someone in her office, especially in her first year out of college was be an exceptionally bad idea, she couldn’t help herself. She didn’t care that he was known throughout the company as ‘the machine’ and had a reputation for not having the time to involve himself in anything so trivial as a relationship. In all honesty, his dedication was how he has been able to rise to meteoric success in such a short time and at twenty-nine, he was the youngest regional director in the entire company. What started as instant infatuation grew to respect. Michelle saw the sacrifices Keith made, but ultimately what he gave up made him even more attractive. Not only was she infatuated; she was also intimidated.
Telling no one, Michelle managed to keep her crush to herself, but would be lying if she didn’t admit she had hoped things would escalate between them this evening. Barely breaking contact between their lips, Keith roughly unzips and divests her of the short party dress which has been teasing him all evening. Barely longer than a shirt, he somehow knows she had worn the dress entirely for his benefit. Underneath is a matching set of black sheer lingerie and he hopes she doesn’t hear the earnest sound he releases in response to her nearly unclothed body.
Feeling the same urgency, Michelle grabs his belt and unbuckles it sharply, then unbuttons his trousers and roughly pulls them and his boxer shorts down, letting gravity take them to the ground.
As he runs a thumb over one of her nipples and she groans in response, Keith remembers the day Michelle started in the office. He remembers the navy pinstripe pantsuit she wore, no doubt to be taken seriously, but unable to hide her natural assets. As the months passed, he began to be attracted to her – less for her natural beauty and more for her sense of humor and highly topical contributions to his advertising campaigns. She had an innate sense of successful marketing and the office was lucky to have her. Her drive reminded him of his first days with the company. She was the first in the morning and routinely worked late.
Breathing heavily, he lowers his mouth to her right breast and begins lavishing attention on it through the delicate mesh fabric. His left hand trails down below her waist and with expert understanding of the female body, he is rewarded with a distinctive and sensual, “Oh!”
After a minute of squirming against his hand, trying to push her way towards his engorged cock which he is keeping irritatingly out of the way, gasping for breath, Michelle finds herself reaching release far faster than she’s ever done with a previous lover or her own fingers. Unable to stop herself, she says, “Keith, please.”
He can’t mistake the need in her voice and comes up to meet her mouth, his hand never leaves her wet heat. He continues until she sighs deeply, coming to rest fully against his body. She feels right there, tucked up against him. Although certain parts of his body would say otherwise, he says, “We can stop here.”
She backs up and look at him and says, “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“You’re sure?”
“As long as you have protection I am.”
“I do.” He moves to a kneeling position slowly, trailing kisses down her smooth legs. Hoping to hide his lack of suaveness, he quickly retrieves the condom and unlaces his shoes, quickly stepping out of both them and his socks.
“Think I’ll leave my shoes on,” she says, now recovered and confidently stepping across the suite in three inch heels, moving towards the bedroom.
He is at her side in a matter of moments, shedding his shirt along the way. There is a burst of male pride as he watches the look of appreciation cross her face when he joins her. The hours committed to the gym have been worth it.
“Come here,” he says softly, laying her softly down on the bed, quite the opposite to the rush when they first entered the room. In response, she lowers her eyes, takes the foil from his hand, unwraps the package and gently slides the latex over his penis. As she does, Michelle wonders if this is actually happening. Can craving someone enough produce a unbelievably realistic sex dream? And yet, there are too many details for this to be a dream. The smell she associates with him, Aqua di Gio, wafts over her. The stubble from his facial hair scratches at her face. Her lips – too swollen. The luxurious bedding slides beneath her body.
“You’re beautiful,” Keith says, removing first her bra and then the scrap of lace parading as underwear. His voice lost, Keith joins her on the bed, resting on his muscular forearms above her. She’s as soft as he imagined she would be, as willing, as passionate.
As he enters her, the connection is just as she’s always imagined. Charged on flirtation and sexual tension of months, Keith doesn’t last as long as he would prefer. Keith shudders over her, roaring her name. He breathes heavily, then rolls aside. Silence fills the room.
For two people who have shared as intimate an act as they have, for two co-workers who have worked late nights on accounts together, the silence stretches.
Michelle, having only a limited number of prior sexual partners, and never having done anything so reckless as getting intimate without so much as a date previously, mentally relives what’s just taken place, committing each movement to memory, in case it never happens again.
Nowhere close to satiated, Keith wants more. He wants to take her into the shower and clean every inch of her. He wants to bring her back to the bed and see what else her wonderfully pliant body is capable of.
For the first time in years, he wants to be late to work.
In fact, if she’s w
illing, he would prefer to spend the rest of the week in this bed, only taking time to eat and maybe not even then.
Even after thinking all of these wonderful thoughts, before he can actually process what he’s saying, he mumbles, “Just so you know, I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you.”
Michelle tenses and sits up immediately. Of all the things she expected Keith to say, this statement is perhaps among the worst. From the moment they entered the room, to the half second before their lips met, she had prepared herself for the worst. She knew him. She knew he wouldn’t want a distraction, which is what she thought he thought this would be. She knew he didn’t date. She knew if he was dating, it certainly wouldn’t be with someone from the office.
“You weren’t.”
In a calculated move, she gets out of bed and wills herself to walk calmly, and completely naked to the bathroom, still in her heels. Let him see what he’ll be missing. She wonders why he rented this room in the first place. Was he planning on taking someone up here? Or was he so responsible, he booked this room so he wouldn’t have to drink and drive? Neither of them had been so wasted as to blame what just happened on alcohol. In planning her actions before the party, if her opportunity was to come around once a year, Michelle wasn’t going to waste it by being sloppy drunk. She had sipped champagne and when others had turned to shots, she had politely declined. Keeping an eye on Keith throughout the evening, she had noticed he had limited himself to three scotch and sodas, not enough to throw off a six foot four inch man.
He follows her in to the bathroom and asks, “Isn’t that what they’re going to say?”
“How are ‘they’ going to know anything? Do you think I’m going to run downstairs and tell everyone, ‘I just got thoroughly fucked by Keith Drake?’”
“No, I didn’t think you were going to do that.”
She looks away, then splashes water on her face and looks back. Hands on her still naked hips, she says, “I think you’re somehow over thinking what just happened between us.”
“How do you figure?” Keith asks. He’s frustrated at himself for his comment, angry he has no control over the situation and pissed off at parts of his body, which are on the verge of betraying him.
“If you fuck like you work, then you’re already being too serious.”
Keith puts his hands up in a T formation and says, “Time out. Can we go back a few minutes? Before I said anything? Back when we were together? Because, in case you didn’t realize it, I really liked that part.”
“Back to when you were, when? ‘Taking advantage’ of me?”
“Before then. When we entered the room, I should’ve… There are any number of other things I should’ve done before…”
“Making out with me? Grinding against the door? Giving me a fantastic orgasm with your very talented fingers?”
“Yes, for example, can I offer you a drink?”
She places a hand over his, stepping into his personal space and says, “I knew what you were asking when you invited me upstairs.”
“You did?”
“Of course. I wanted it as much as you did.”
“Really?”
“You sound surprised.”
“I didn’t know…”
“That I was attracted to you?”
“Yes.”
Deciding to put all her cards on the table, she says, “Mind if we order something? I’m famished.”
“You didn’t eat much tonight.”
“I was nervous.”
“You? Nervous? I find that difficult to believe,” Keith comments.
“I may have some things figured out, but not everything.”
Without asking again for permission, she pulls on a robe and goes into the lounge. Flipping through the menu, she dials the front desk and places a hand over the receiver, asking, “Do you want anything? I’m getting a pizza and was going to get you some fries with honey mustard.”
He throws a towel around his waist and walks out of the bathroom, realizing she knows his favorite condiment. As blasé as she is trying to be, he senses her feelings are well and truly hurt. What can he do to make things up to her? He says, “That sounds great. Now, how about that drink?”
“Fine, just a club soda, please.”
“I’d like that.”
As he fixes himself a scotch and water, and pulls out her club soda, he wonders why she’s still here. What could prompt her to remain in the room? Holding the glasses he walks into the lounge and takes a seat opposite her in the leather chair. Keith suddenly chuckles to himself, causing Michelle to look angrily in his direction. She asks, “Is something funny?”
“Yes and no.”
“Care to explain?”
“Believe it or not, my friend was in this exact room earlier this year.”
“And?”
“He almost died.”
“What?”
“Remember when I took that day off?”
“You said it was some sort emergency. And you’re sure it’s the same room?”
“It looks a little different now.”
“Well, what happened? Is your friend okay?”
“It was an allergic reaction, and he’s much better. Actually the whole debacle was the start of a beautiful relationship.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, in fact, it’s been great. Minus the whole hospital scare, one of my best friends ended up moving to Los Angeles to be with a girl he loves.”
Even though she’s ordered food, Michelle realizes it’s time she should probably leave. Having a slumber party with the man she’s equal parts angry and wanting to sleep with again is probably a recipe for a disaster. Standing up, she begins collecting her clothes.
“What are you doing?”
“You know we have that report due on Tuesday. I want to get into the office early tomorrow.”
“You’re going?” He is only just able to keep the disappointment out of his voice.
“I think it’s for the best.”
“You could at least stay until the pizza arrives. I’m not going to be able to finish it.”
“I don’t know…” She’s wanted this for so long, and while the sex was every bit as fantastic as she thought it would be, the ‘after’ is falling short. In her wildest dreams, she never let her fantasies go past the bedroom.
He flashes her a hopeful smile and says, “And don’t get dressed on my account.”
Still undecided, Michelle hopes her best option is to get to the bathroom and see if anyone she knows is awake and will answer a desperate text. Grabbing her purse off the table and says, “I’m going to actually use the bathroom – please don’t follow me this time.”
“Sure thing.”
“Be up, be up,” Michelle whispers to her phone, while running the tap in the shower. “Please be up.” She’s fairly certain her friend Maria will be awake. After all, Maria, a perpetual night owl, is about the only person who would be awake and aware at 1 A.M. on a Monday morning. Also, in honesty, Maria is the type of person Michelle needs to speak with. Before arriving to Los Angeles, Maria was her tutor, a gifted high school senior hired to help Michelle survive freshman Geometry. The two had lost touch once Maria had gone to college, but with the power of social media had recently reconnected.
“Maria?”
“Michelle? Is everything okay?”
“Do you have a few minutes?”
“I guess.”
Michelle can hear her friend move into another room and asks, “Remember that guy I was telling you about?”
“You’re calling me at this hour to talk about him?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“We just slept together.”
“Literally?”
“Yes.”
“Did you use a condom?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“So, why are you calling me?” Maria asks.
“I do
n’t know what to do next.”
“I’m not sure I know what would be appropriate either. Is he still your boss?”
“Technically.”
“Then perhaps you should get out of there.”
“You’re right.”
“You sound hesitant.”
“I am.”
“I know you’ve liked him for a long time. Have you told him how you feel?”
“Not exactly.”
“Michelle, you already know why you called me. Whether or not you’re looking for validation or just to sound things out, this needs to be your decision. But I will say one thing…”
“What’s that?”
“Say what you feel. Life is short. You don’t want regrets.”
“Thanks, Maria.”
On the other side of the door, Keith is fiercely pacing a loop around the couch. He’s pulled on his boxers, and past that, is unable to make a decision about what to do next. For a man that regularly makes choices where tens of thousands of dollars are on the line, he cannot choose what to do or say. Finding his trousers by the door, he pulls out his phone and figuring his friend owes him a favor, rings Nathan.
“Hey man, everything okay?” Nathan asks, then mumbles to someone, “Keith. Yes, I’ll send your regards.”
Keith hears the sound of a door opening and closing on the other end and running out of patience, asks in a loud whisper, “Nathan?”
“Yes, sorry, you know Laura has to wake up early for work.”
Room 702 Page 34
