It takes a few minutes before the pulses slow, but he stays on top of me, arms extended, his eyes locked on mine. “You are unbelievable,” he laughs, then buries his face into my neck. “Fucking unbelievable, Jessa.”
forty-two
“Don’t leave me,” I protest, pulling Max’s arm as he tries to sneak out of bed. “I’m not done with you,” I tease him, trying to lure him to lie back down.
“Mmm, bella,” he breathes into my ear. “You know I have to go. I already changed the meeting location, I can’t stay.” I smile at him, and myself, grateful that he changed his plans so that he could spend more time with me.
“You must be pretty important if you can just change a meeting location from London to Shanghai with a day’s notice. A smile spreads across his face, enjoying my compliment. “Seriously, how did you pull it off?” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly at my question.
“Mmm,” he says, swirling his head around so that his mouth nuzzles into my neck. “I pull it off just like this,” he shows me, gently trailing his finger across my chest, tugging at the strap of my hot pink camisole. His touch gets me fiery in an instant, and I know I can’t let him go just yet.
“Oh, is that right? Well let me show you how I pull it off,” I retort, using my right hand to pull at the band of his boxers, popping them back against his skin.
“Careful!” he warns me. “I have a surprise in there you wouldn’t want to ruin.” My tongue wags at his suggestion, recalling the memory of his penis massage wake-up call, courtesy of my eager tongue. I stir at the idea of recreating the memory and, feeling frisky, I grab at his waistband again. “Jessa, I would love to stay in bed with you all morning. But I can’t stand them up. I promise I will be all yours this evening. Ok?”
I give him my best sad face, trying to relay my disappointment that I won’t be giving him a morning mouth-fucking. “Only if you make it up to me,” I command him in a playful but naughty tone. He rises from the bed but leans over me, moving his mouth above mine.
“Je te promets, Jessa,” he promises in French, leaving me swooning once again at that perfect mouth and delicious accent. The language doesn’t matter, everything he says makes a girl’s panties fall to the floor. Especially mine.
***
“So how was last night?” Sarah asks me as we sort through faux Tory Burch goods at the giant Shanghai mall, filled with designer knockoffs.
“Good.” I smile. “Ok, great. Although I’m thoroughly exhausted again, but it’s totally worth it.”
“Yeah, I could tell by the way you left the club that you would be going straight to bed. And I don’t mean to sleep!” She whirls around, and begins sorting through the purses next. “So have you had a chance to talk to him yet?”
“About what?”
“About, well, you know. What this is?”
I blink through the question. “I don’t even know what it is. Or even what I want it to be, for that matter.”
“Come on, Jess, you went twenty years without sleeping with a guy, then another five until Jack. You don’t just give yourself to men that way. But with Max, well, I just want you to be ok with everything.”
“What are you saying?”
“Look, I’m not judging you. You just don’t normally move this quickly. And I don’t want you to get hurt here. Her words redden my cheeks, forcing me to recall the same haunting thoughts I’ve twisted about in my brain for days.
***
“Come on, we’re going to be late.” I tug on Max’s arm as we walk out of our lavish hotel suite.
“Almost…done!” he says triumphantly, holding his comb in his hand. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that someone this good-looking must spend a full two minutes combing his hair into the perfect position. And if that’s his only flaw, I think I can learn to live with it. “You look beautiful, Jessa.” He pulls me into his arms, and I close my eyes, slowly drawing in his smell. He nuzzles his mouth close to my ear, close enough that I can hear him inhale my scent. Thankfully I’m freshly showered and ready to be ravished. Well, not yet, but in a few hours once I have him all to myself. I look up into the grandiose mirror that hangs above a green marble vanity in our spacious suite.
“You know, we look quite good together,” I acknowledge, realizing I’ve yet to really see us next to each other like this. He turns toward the mirror, getting a better glimpse of our coupled reflection. A big smile spreads on his face as he straightens the collar of his linen button-up shirt. His sleeves are rolled to the elbows, and he wears navy blue pants with a tan belt and matching leather shoes. A slight fringe of chest hair is visible beneath his shirt, but overall he’s not a very hairy man, and I’ve come to enjoy his smooth, strong chest. Particularly in the post-coital spooning moments we’ve shared as of late.
“I think you’re on to something,” he purrs with a quick kiss on my cheek. I take a look at myself in the mirror and am pleased with my reflection. Thanks to the overwhelming number of sexings and out-of-my-comfort-zone food choices here, this dress is fitting better than ever. I chose my sexy red dress for tonight, a color similar to the one I was wearing when I met Max for the first time months ago. This dress has a straight neckline across my shoulders, with V-shaped cutouts at my waistline. I paired it with my tan heels, and despite their over four-inch lift, Max still stands at least five inches above me. Just add it to the list of reasons why I find him so incredibly sexy. “I would really like to ravage you right now,” he admits in a matter of fact tone. “But you say we must go. So I must wait.”
“Uhm,” I squeak, feeling weak in the knees just at his suggestion. “Maybe we can be a few minutes late?” I suggest, feeling the pull for him between my thighs. He moves in to me, kissing me softly just beside my mouth, in the same torturous way he would before we were lovers. It sends tingles across my skin, and my lips pull toward his.
“No, you said we must go.” He shrugs his shoulders. “We shouldn’t keep your friends waiting.” He pauses, looking at our reflection once again. “We do make quite the couple though, no?” His words electrify me as much as his lips did. Couple? Could he have possibly meant that in the literal sense?
***
“There you guys are!” I call out to Sarah and Ben, both seated at a modern, cozy bar just outside the hotel lobby. I notice the two of them looking cozy and relaxed together. Almost more date-like than friend-like. But they couldn’t be on a date. Right? I tuck the thought aside for a moment. “Are we ready to go?”
“You betcha. Let me just pay for our drinks and we’ll be all set,” Ben declares. He waves a waiter over toward us and hands him his credit card.
“So how was your meeting today?” Sarah questions Max.
“Long. But worthwhile. Glad to be here now,” he says to me, rather than Sarah, and his attention to me instantly makes me feel wanted.
“Let’s roll,” Ben says, jumping to his feet. He holds his hand out for Sarah, helping her off of her barstool. Another check in the date column for these two, I note.
“You guys make quite a handsome couple,” Sarah says complimenting us.
“Thank you. I agree,” Lust says with a wink. “And you two make a nice-looking couple as well,” he comments, picking up on the same vibe that I’m sensing about them. I watch Sarah’s cheeks redden, and our eyes dart to each other. She gives me a slight shoulder shrug and quickly looks away before acknowledging my growing curiosity.
***
We head onto the large, crowded boat, ready to set sail upon the Huangpu River and the glowing city of Shanghai. “Why don’t we get the ladies some drinks?” my Lust suggests to Ben.
“Of course. Any special requests?” he asks us.
“Surprise me,” I respond, eager to talk to my friend.
“Me too,” Sarah mimics me.
“Your wish is our command.” Lust winks at me and walks off to the nearby watering hole.
“Ok. So what is that?” I ask as soon as they’re out of earshot.
“What?”<
br />
“Um, this date that you seem to be on?”
“It’s not a date,” Sarah protests, her face turning red again.
“Well it sure looks like one,” I tease her.
“I mean. Ugh. I don’t know. There’s something about him that I haven’t noticed before. He’s not so bad,” she says with a smile.
“He’s a great guy! I just never thought you would be into him that way. When did this happen?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Somewhere between M1nt and this big boat, I guess!”
“Well that’s exciting! But just be careful, you don’t want to break his heart if you change your mind,” I warn her, knowing how sensitive our friend can be.
“I know,” she snaps. “I wouldn’t try to hurt him,” she says with a slight glare.
“Ok, sorry. I just don’t want you to have some kind of vacation fling that’s meaningless to you when we get home.”
“Ok, pot.”
“What?” I ask, fully confused.
“Pot,” she points to me. “Kettle,” she points to herself. I feel my defenses begin to flare up.
“That’s not what I’m doing. I’m just…” I pause, not sure what I am actually doing.
“You’re just having fun. And so am I. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I’m not just having fun,” I blurt out. “It’s more than that to me.”
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t know!” I say with exasperation. “I haven’t exactly had time for a DTR since this afternoon. But it’s real. And he called us a couple.”
“So he said you’re in a relationship?”
“Not those exact words.” I shake my head, realizing how green I must sound.
“Jess, regardless, you realize someone is going to get hurt. You have Jack sitting at home waiting for you. He’s your live-in boyfriend who you seemed to be in love with not too long ago.”
“I know that!” I retort. “But it’s not like that. He and I were barely speaking after our trip to New York.”
“Let me see your phone.”
“Ok, fine.” I begin digging it out of my clutch. “What are you hoping to prove?”
She stays quiet for a moment, then whips the screen around to face me. “This.” She slides her finger up and down, showing me the barrage of texts I have from Jack.
“Are you sure he’s not trying to talk to you? Or have you been too busy fucking the Italian to notice?”
“Geeze. I don’t know. I haven’t seen these,” I admit. I begin to read the words from my boyfriend, and I feel my heart sink.
Hey, how’s your trip going?
Hey Jess. Thinking of you, let me know you got there ok.
Everything ok? Let me know that you’re getting these messages.
Jess, I know you’re probably mad at me. And I know I’ve been an ass. But we need to talk. Can you call me?
Babe. At least let me know you’re doing ok. When will you be home? I miss and love you.
I swallow hard at this most recent message, the words drawing out the feelings I still have for him that I’ve pushed way down beneath the lust I’ve been having for Max the last few days.
“What are you going to do about this? Are you really going to leave Jack when you get home? You fell hard for Jack, and fell in love with him. And I know love isn’t a feeling or word you toss around lightly. Do you really think you can have a relationship with a playboy who is never home, and probably has a lady friend in every city across the globe?”
I stand with my mouth open, still processing my thoughts. I watch Sarah’s head twirl around, and I too see that our dates are heading back toward us.
“I just want you to be smart, Jess. I don’t want to see you get hurt. I just think you need to have realistic expectations. And don’t be an asshole to the man you’re going home to, and maybe still love, unless you’re 100% sure you’re ready to leave him.”
I nod my head, thoughts spinning around inside of it.
Lust moves himself next to me, resting his champagne glass on the bar height table adjacent to us. He hands me a similar glass, then slides his arm around my waist, sending the all familiar tingles through me again, momentarily quieting the love triangle that my brain is finally being forced to decode.
“Champagne,” he says quietly, but with a wicked grin. “It always reminds me of the night we met.” I too flash back to that exciting evening, where we wouldn’t have even met if I hadn’t been frustrated with Jack. “You wore red that night too. I’ll never forget.” His finger caresses the spot where my waist meets my hip, tugging gently at the fabric, and my sexual need for him.
***
“I can’t believe you’ve never done this before,” I say, turning my head toward Max so he can hear me above the clanking dishes and soft dinner music.
“I know. Despite all of my trips here I just never made time for it. I rarely have time for pleasure on these trips.” Just hearing his beautiful accent say the word “pleasure” slaps images of me pleasuring him back into my mind. I peer backward and see the reflections of the very bright Shanghai in the distance, the image of the famous Pearl building, which used to hold the title of tallest building in Shanghai until another quickly popped up a few years later. “It’s amazing how fast things move here. There are new buildings constructed faster than anywhere in the world.”
“How do they do it?”
“They never stop working. They build twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. It’s unbelievable.”
“Ah, sounds like your work schedule,” I say, giving him a slight nudge.
He smiles and finds my eyes. “I manage to take a break every now and then. For the important things.” He gives my hand a squeeze and leans in for a kiss. Tonight I’m less interested in a full PDA in front of my coworkers, feeling Sarah’s judgment still lingering. She hasn’t exactly been warm and bubbly the last few hours, and I’m struggling to keep the guilt of my infidelity from my mind with each of her glances.
“I think we’re heading back to the hotel, do you guys want to join?” Sarah pauses us before Max’s lips can reach mine. Max looks at me to answer Sarah’s question. Given her mothering this evening I don’t really want to waste my precious alone time with her and Ben. And I can’t exactly have a serious chat with Max in their presence, anyway.
“We might just stay on the boat for a bit. I’ll see you in the morning?”
She nods her head, and we say a quick goodbye before I catch her take Ben’s arm and disembark from the boat.
“Ok, Jessa. What would you like to do?” He raises his eyebrows flirtatiously, and my normal smile is deflated by the thoughts Sarah has flooded my brain with.
Shit. I hadn’t really considered how I might go about a serious conversation with him. We’ve been obscenely intimate with our bodies, but certainly not with our thoughts. He’s a playboy, Jess. And while he might be all yours today, that doesn’t mean he will be for long. I sigh, recalling the great memories and lust we’ve made; after all, when was the last time I felt this satisfied and desired?
“What is it?” He’s attuned enough to realize something other than bedding him is on my mind. “Jessa. Are you having fun?”
“On the boat? Sure, the views are great.”
He shakes his head to me. “No. With me. Are you having fun?”
I consider this idea for a moment. Of course I’m having fun with him. Who wouldn’t consider multiple orgasms with a fucktastically hot Italian fun? The fun aspect is not the problem, it’s the fear that it’s just fun.
“What is it?” he asks me, and I realize my thoughtful expression became more serious than intended. “So you’re not having fun?” he asks confidently, knowing well that I am.
“Of course I’m having fun,” I say, trying to hide my nerves. Shit. Maybe he’s going there. I fear the gravity of the words about to come. “But…” I pause, not wanting to turn the conversation serious quite so soon.
“But what?” he probes, his ex
pression turning from confident to concerned in a blink.
“But I don’t want this to be just some…thing,” I say, lowering my eyes as I play my cards much quicker than expected, instantly terrified of how he may respond.
“Jessa,” he says quickly, grabbing my hand. “This is not just a thing to me.” He pulls at my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Don’t you know that?” The butterflies in my stomach go from anxious to excited in an instant. I turn my eyes to his, and they meld, letting us each know how strong our feelings are. This is the first time I can remember sharing a glance that said “I want you to be more than my lover.”
“You know this. Right?” He asks for my verbal reassurance.
“Well I hoped so. But I guess I just wasn’t completely sure,” I admit.
“I flew halfway around the world to see you,” he says with near exasperation. “How else do I show you?”
“Well I don’t know. You could’ve come here just for, you know. Having me,” I say with a smile. This idea elicits a big laugh from him.
“Jessa. Let me be clear. I did not fly to China just to have some girl. I flew to China to see you. Yes, to have you. Because I could not, I cannot, stop thinking of you. Not since the day I met you.” His serious expression melts me, and I feel more drawn to him than ever. Hearing his admission of his feelings floods through me. The pit of my stomach wants to touch him, and I can see from his stare that he feels the same. I simply smile at him, grateful for this admission. “You have no idea how wonderful you are. Do you?”
I blush at the question, uncomfortable by the idea that I’m something special. I stay quiet but let out a slight shake of my head. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought of myself as that special,” I admit.
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