“Yep.”
It took me a minute. “Wait… If you stayed in Raleigh that means that you would be spending the night like 10 minutes from my house.”
“Why, yes ma’am, it does.”
“I see.”
“Depending on what time I get there, perhaps you would like to come visit me for a little while tomorrow evening before we hit the winery Monday?”
“Are you serious? ‘Would like to’ would be a bit of an understatement, don’t you think?” I fussed.
“Well, I plan to be there around 7 p.m.”
“Well, then I plan to see you at 7:05 p.m.”
I had full custody of my kids at this time. My ex was staying in an extra bedroom at a friend’s house and was not in any shape for me to be asking any favors. I told the first of what would be many lies to my mother; she was going to be spending that Sunday with us anyway. I told her Brady had asked if I wanted to get some dinner Sunday night, (something we did fairly often anyway) and would she mind staying to watch the girls for a little while? She was happy to do it.
I forewarned Matt that it was no problem for me to get away, but I only had a short amount of time and I had to basically come “as is.” My mother would certainly raise an eyebrow if I was getting changed into some whorish get-up to go out to dinner with my gay boyfriend. He assured me that I could wear a burlap sack and it would be fine with him, as long as he got to see me.
I woke up Sunday morning with a giant smile across my face. 12 hours. I was finally going to see him in 12 hours. I went about my day as usual with my kids, trying to stay as busy as possible. I couldn’t believe I managed to be around my mother all day long without giving it away somehow. I was absolutely about to burst in anticipation of seeing him again. I couldn’t wait to see his dimpled grin when we laid eyes on each other and to finally feel his lips against mine, knowing that this time we were so much more than work friends.
12:18 p.m.: Hitting the road, babe, see you in 6 hours…
12:19 p.m.: Drive faster.
Mom and I had gone to the pool with the girls that afternoon, so I had the perfect excuse to take a shower and redo my hair and make-up. My outfit was typical for a hot summer weekend, fitted aqua V-neck tee and white capri jeans with my black wedge sandals. And with white jeans, well, I had no choice but to wear a lacy light pink thong; but I wasn’t planning on letting him see that this soon.
It was about 5:30 p.m. when I heard from him, he had just passed Greensboro and had made reservations at a Holiday Inn Express on I-40, which was not far from my house. I probably could have waited until he at least got to the hotel and got checked in, but I was so excited that I left when he was still about 10 minutes away. Then I had to drive around aimlessly trying to calm my nerves until he finally texted me the room number.
6:37 p.m.: Room 207… see you there
I pulled into the parking lot and smiled like a maniac when I spotted his Georgia plates parked there too. My heart was racing uncontrollably when I ran in and pushed the elevator button multiple times. HURRY UP HURRY UP HURRY UP!!! I hung a left off the elevator and as I approached his door I noticed he had left it cracked open for me. I didn’t want to barge in, so I knocked quietly and nervously yelled out “ROOM SERVICE!”
He was already laughing when he came to the door, and he pulled me inside so quickly that my sunglasses on top of my head flew to the floor. My heart leapt as soon as my eyes met his; he was even more handsome than I remembered.
“Well, hello, Miss Mallory.”
I started to answer, “Hey Troub…” but he had already taken my face firmly in his hands and drew me in for a kiss. First a couple of sweet little brushes across the lips that were nothing short of delicious, and then he swept his tongue into my mouth and pulled me up tight against his chest for a long, deep kiss.
It was like no kiss I had ever had before, with a deliberate intensity that made it clear a kiss like this couldn’t exist between people who were actually married to each other. His tongue was gigantic, surprisingly so. It filled my entire mouth, leaving me lightheaded and practically gasping for air yet desperate to go back for more of his sweet taste.
As our lips finally parted, he made a motion to politely pick up my sunglasses from behind us, but I forcefully pushed his arms back, and with a muffled “LEAVE THEM,” I grabbed the back of his head and went in for another. I wrapped my arms around his neck and we collapsed on the bed next to us. He placed his hands securely around my hips, “Here, babe, come sit next to me,” and set me beside him on the edge of the bed. That was all fine and dandy, but I proceeded to grab him by the ass and pull him right on top of me instead.
We both giggled as we continued to kiss and wiggle ourselves closer to the middle of the mattress. I wrapped my legs around him while we lay there, grinding into each other and making out like two teenagers in love. He removed my T-shirt within minutes and then his own. I immediately pointed out his farmer’s tan (he said it was from his cycling shirt) and ran my fingers over his meaty biceps and down the very prominent veins his arms. His arms were fantastic, strong and lean and currently unhooking my bra… But his chest… oh his chest made me weak. I pressed my face right into the top of it and inhaled deeply. He smelled so, so good. Clean, with a hint of Tide, which just happens to be my favorite laundry detergent. I began running my hands through his chest hair. It was also salt and pepper, more gray than black, which I found extremely sexy. I could feel him bear down harder into my hips as I began to give him little kisses all over his chest. Moving my hands lower, his stomach was defined but not too taut, and the slight softness of it felt so good as I lay back and let him press against my bare belly with his.
I didn’t even tense up as he casually tossed my bra on to the floor. He put those gorgeous fingers all over my breasts and gently squeezed them, taking each one in his warm mouth and licking and kissing them with great care. Why did I try to avoid this for 22 years again!? He ran his firm hands all up and down my chest from the top of the waistline on my pants to the dips in my shoulders and then around my back, which sent a tingle right down to my toes. We continued to kiss each other and roll around the bed for several minutes. Then he paused for a moment, looking into my eyes with a sexy stare and whispered, “I want to taste you.”
He backed off the bed and very kindly removed my sandals for me, complimenting my hot pink pedicure. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he bent down in front of me and ran a slow finger around my waistband. He unbuttoned and unzipped my capris and began to leisurely shimmy them down off my hips, taking his time to kiss my stomach as his hands drew them lower and lower. They were rolled up on my calves tightly at the bottom. Running had given me very solid calves. I don’t think he was expecting the argument he was getting from them as he tried to peel them off my legs. I started giggling and asked him, “Are you having some trouble, trouble?” Finally, when he muttered, “Where the hell did you get these pants?!” I jumped up to help him take them completely off. He was delighted by the thong that he wasn’t supposed to see this soon. He grabbed me by the ass and pulled me in tight for another deep kiss, just before sliding that off too. Then he picked me up and tossed me playfully back down on the bed. I reveled in how fun we were together. This is how it’s supposed to be, I thought.
He settled in beside me and explored every contour of my now bare-naked body with his hands. He was still in his cargo shorts. As I clutched his sides and pulled him closer to me, I could see the waistline of his black boxer briefs and feel the firmness in his pants pressed up against my thigh. I was so curious, but I didn’t want to put my hands on him just yet. I didn’t want to seem too aggressive, plus I was enjoying letting him set the pace for now. He circled over my breasts again with his mouth and ran his hands all over my legs and around my ass and thighs, spreading them apart just slightly. He lowered his body further down the bed as he finally began to slide his fingers down inside me. A soft moan escaped my lips as he stroked me, filling me with desire for him. I had
been waiting for months for him to touch me there; I was already so wet for him. He shot me a glance and murmured, “Excited to see me?”
“Now, what was your name again?” I jokingly replied.
He gave me a stern look, and then he slid his hands beneath my hips and lifted me right up to his face like it was his job, plunging that gigantic tongue right into me. I gasped loudly and grabbed at his hair. He looked up with an amused grin and gave me few more teasing flutters of his tongue, alternating them with more forceful strokes that made the muscles in my thighs tighten around his head. It was just as I had imagined in my daydreams, only better. He was only there for a few short minutes, however. It was just long enough to leave me practically begging for him, when he suddenly came up for air and repositioned himself squarely on top of me, chest to chest.
I just kept looking at him smiling there and thinking, My God, those dimples are just ridiculously hot. He held his hands over each side of my head, stroking his fingers slowly over my eyebrows and studying me closely, pushing my long auburn hair behind my ears.
“Now what are you doing?” I asked him.
“You don’t have any wrinkles,” he replied.
“I do have some, around my eyes!” I protested, but he just kept caressing my face and kissing my cheeks. “Your skin is just gorgeous.”
“Thanks, babe.”
He paused for a moment, “What do you want with a guy 14 years older than you, anyway?” He gazed deeply into my eyes as he asked, as if he was looking for some kind of reassurance.
I brushed my fingers through his hair slowly and said, “I’m not sure yet, but I don’t really act my age, so I’m actually more like 20 years younger than you.”
“Oh, great…”
“Well maybe if you stick with me, I can keep you young,” I answered, playfully kissing his nose.
“How much more time have you got, babe?” he asked.
Looking quickly at my watch I said, “I don’t know, maybe another hour or so?”
“An HOUR?!” he groaned, “Are you kidding me!?”
“Do you want me to leave sooner?” I asked innocently.
“God no, sweetie,” he said, as he gently brushed his lips across mine again. “I just had no idea that you would have that much time. And I didn’t think we would be here like this, so… well… I didn’t plan ahead.”
“No, I didn’t think we would either,” pulling him closer for another kiss.
“Do you want to wait here and I’ll run out and get something?”
I wanted him so badly at that moment, but we only had an hour. I grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him softly. “No, baby, I’ve been waiting to see you again for so long. You just got here,” I pleaded. “I don’t want you going anywhere. I don’t want us to have to rush anything.”
“Hey, babe?”
“Yeah?”
“How badly do you want to go to this winery tomorrow?” he asked, as he continued to gently stroke my face.
“Why do you ask?” I replied with an inquisitive smile.
“Well, I was thinking… What if I was to get this room for another day, and after Burlington, I could drive back here and we could just make love all day long?”
“Matt, I don’t give a rat’s ass about going to this winery.”
He flashed a devilish grin and kissed me so hard it nearly took my breath away, thrusting his pelvis into mine like a tantalizing precursor to what he was going to do to me tomorrow. As we continued to fool around on the bed, I ran my hands all over his body, rubbing the outside of his pants and skimming his waistband with my fingers. Yet I was too apprehensive to just undo his pants and grab him. I was almost scared by how much I wanted him. I knew if I got him naked I would have to have him right then and there, condom or not, with just minutes to spare. I bet it would have been pretty hot, come to think of it. But I didn’t want our first time to be fast and furious like that. I wanted to experience practically everything with this man in slow motion, one delectable second at a time.
It was pretty obvious that I was still trying to cop a feel, however, so once we absolutely had to get ourselves back together, he stood up next to me and helped me collect my clothes. Just as I was getting my shirt back on, I caught a glimpse of him slowly pulling down his zipper as he whipped out his cock for me.
“You wanna see what you’re going to get tomorrow?” he teased. I reached over, put my hand around his thick erection, and smiled wide as I gave him a tight squeeze.
“Nice piece, Matthew.”
He smirked proudly as he zipped up. We started to kiss each other goodnight when he suddenly remembered he had a gift for me. So, we sat together on the edge of the bed and he handed me a little card. Inside was a very generous gift card to Nordstrom. When I looked over at him, he was smiling at me like a little kid.
“Thanks sweetie, but what is this for?”
“Well, when I was in the Memphis store a couple of weeks ago, I was thinking about you and just wanted to get you a little something. I know you love shoes, but I wasn’t sure what kind you would like…”
“Aww, thanks baby, that was so sweet of you,” I said. I leaned over to kiss him to show my appreciation. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know I didn’t… but I wanted to.”
Wow, he can drive six hours to visit me anytime, I thought. But I couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable about him spending that kind of money on me, especially in addition to the hotel room. I knew he had the means, but I’d never had anyone spend money like that, just to see little old me. Honestly, a small part of me felt a little hookerish. But I had never been with anyone wealthy before, so I assumed it was just something I’d have to get used to.
It was getting late and I really had to go. I got another incredible goodnight kiss in and headed home. My body was practically on fire wishing I could spend the night with him. At the same time, I was also looking forward to tomorrow, knowing it was going to be the absolute best. day. ever. If he thought he’d had 25 years of the same old same old at home, I was going to completely blow his mind. There was one tiny issue, however, that lingered in the back of my mind. It bothered me just a little bit, like a nagging voice of concern.
As part of my job, I monitored all emails for my branches. This, just recently, included Atlanta. All employees were well aware of this, as they were constantly getting reminders from us to “Make sure you encrypt personal client information before sending it out,” or “This is not business related, please use your personal email to forward chain emails.” Email surveillance was a rather annoying part of my job. I didn’t want to read some broker’s ramblings about interest rates or why they thought metals were the place to be right now.
Periodically, however, we’d see some horrifically bad jokes come through or catch a fight between a broker and his wife, that sort of thing. We used to see porn being forwarded around all the time, but they’d really cracked down on that as of late. Basically, any email that contained certain keywords (which could be anything, they were often benign words like “loan” or “ticket”) got flagged and I had to read through them to determine whether or not there was an issue.
Matt rarely got in trouble with email. He was pretty abrupt in general on both text and email because, truthfully, he just wasn’t that good at typing. His communications were short and to the point, occasionally forgetting to add product disclaimers was usually his biggest offense.
But I couldn’t help but notice that the man knew a lot of women. His real estate agent, Sofia, was a woman. His attorney was a woman. His travel agent was a woman. He had cyclist pals, some were lesbians, but they were women. He had several friends who got involved with his trips back to Ukraine, all women. I could see why he would be very popular with the ladies. He was a remarkably handsome, successful, witty man with a magnetic personality and a fat wallet. I’ve never been a particularly jealous person by nature, but I am nosy. And I like to know things. I thoroughly research subjects when I
don’t understand them. It’s probably one of the main qualities I possess that makes me so good at my job.
So, I wouldn’t say I was jealous, but I was sort of flummoxed when I began to see flagged emails to Matt from someone named Katya. Katya Batsevich. You could tell from the way she typed she was a younger girl. With a name like that, she would be easy to Google. So, of course, I did. There was a link to her Facebook page which was mostly hidden from the public, but you could kind of see her small profile picture. I couldn’t make out her face, but she appeared to have a really nice body. I was able to see from her page that she was 25. That was a few years older than Matt’s adopted son, so I still wasn’t getting the connection, but it was very obvious she was desperately searching for a job. She seemed to need Matt’s help with that, just about every day. No sir, I did not care for it.
I figured if we cared enough about each other to sleep together, then I probably had the right to just ask him what the deal was, but it still made me very nervous. I’m not sure why. Our communication thus far had been excellent. I felt like I could tell him anything at all, but the idea of asking him about information I saw in his emails seemed so sneaky, like I was spying. Probably because I was spying. But it was my job to spy. I decided I would ask him about her the next day, preferably before he got any of my clothes off, and I put it out of my mind for the evening.
That Monday, 11:30 a.m. couldn’t come fast enough. He had suggested I grab us some lunch, and I knew my boy liked to eat, so I went to my favorite take-out place. It’s just a local dive near my neighborhood, but it has the best Italian food in the city. I got us an order of spaghetti marinara and penne carbonara and a huge piece of the most alcohol-soaked tiramisu ever made. It’s so delicious, you can practically get drunk just from the smell of the ladyfingers swimming in Kahlua. Since I had been on a fairly strict diet of eating all non-processed food for months, pasta and dessert were two items I typically did not eat anymore. I was looking forward to lunch almost as much as the sex.
The Other Other Woman Page 6
