He felt the same way, she mused. His words were a mirror of her own thoughts. “Well, I guess just for one drink,” she said deliberately. “Where are you?”
“I booked a room at the Gramercy Park Hotel.”
“The Gramercy Park Hotel? Really?” Lauren was shocked. It was one of the toniest hotels with the hippest bars in the city. Ian Schrager, the famous hotelier, had refurbished the whole thing. Lauren knew him personally and had invited him to the wedding. She’d actually booked functions there for the museum. How would a guy like Caleb know about the Gramercy?
“Yes, is there something wrong with that? They have a bar here. I think a couple.”
“Yes, they do. Well, then, let’s meet there. Which bar? Rose or Jade?”
“Since I don’t know any better, how about Rose?”
“I’ll be there in an hour. I have to change, and getting down there from here might take a bit on a Friday night.”
“I’ll see you in an hour. Bye.”
“Bye,” she said.
Her heart would not stop pounding. Lauren hurried to the bedroom and stripped off her clothes. She quickly showered, then sat at the vanity wrapped in a towel and carefully studied her face. She applied smoky charcoal shadow with slightly iridescent moon-colored accents. Her mind raced as she brushed blush high on her cheekbones. The thought of seeing him again filled her with excitement and trepidation at the same time. Calm down, she told herself, this is good. We can talk this thing through. What’s happened has happened. We slept together. We had sex. Now it’s behind us and can’t hang over our heads like something waiting to happen. We can talk it through like two rational people. It’s not a hope or a fear. It’s already done with. Finished.
“Finished.” She said the word aloud and applied a slightly deeper, sexier shade of lipstick than she ordinarily wore.
Lastly, she pulled her hair up in the same sexily messy twist, the same way she had worn it on that night of passion. Finally, she was ready to dress. She flipped neurotically through all her clothes, again and again, trying to decide just what to wear. She wanted to be the most beautiful girl in the room. She wanted to be so sexy he would not be able to keep his hands off her, and yet, she knew she shouldn’t lead him on.
I shouldn’t be doing this, Lauren thought to herself as she finally picked just the right dress. It was Armani, black jersey with a plunging front, short skirt, and cap sleeves. The waist was gathered with a darkly jeweled belt. Very delicate, very feminine, mysterious. She had just purchased it on her last trip to Bergdorf’s, and she hadn’t worn it yet. Somehow, that fact made her feel better. She slipped it over her head as she quickly scanned the shoe closet and reached for the Christian Louboutin metallic purple pumps with the five-inch heels. There was nothing like a five-inch heel to give a girl confidence.
Lauren reached up to the shelves over the shoes and brought down a deep purple beaded clutch. She surveyed herself critically in the mirror. Yes, she would make him squirm. Confidently, she hurried from the room, almost crashing into Dennis, who was bringing the tray of hors d’oeuvres into the study.
“Oh, excuse me, miss,” he said. Then, seeing her, he said in a surprised voice, “Are you going out?”
“Yes, Dennis,” she said nervously. “I just got a call from some old friends who happened to be in the city. They want to meet for a drink. I’m sorry. I meant to tell you before Tina got the dinner going. I guess I was just so excited, I didn’t think of it.” She rummaged through the foyer closet for her silk wrap, although the night was so warm she doubted she would need it.
“That’s fine, Lauren,” said Dennis. “You go and have a good time. I’ll tell Tina.” He started off toward the kitchen, then turned back and said seriously, “Will I see you back here tonight?”
His question totally flustered her. Could he sense something? It was hard to tell about Dennis sometimes. Lauren spoke up, too quickly perhaps. “Oh, of course, Dennis. I won’t be late.”
“Very good. Have a nice time. I’ll call down and have Albert call the car for you.”
“Thanks.” Lauren smiled stiffly and left the apartment.
It took roughly twenty-five minutes to get down to the Gramercy Park Hotel. The driver pulled up to the portico, and the doorman opened the door for her. She swung her long, smooth legs out onto the sidewalk and stood up, focusing on the door. From behind her, she heard his voice.
“Lauren.”
She turned gracefully, calmly, but her heart was hammering in her chest. Caleb stood just to the side of the front entry to the hotel. He smiled as he approached her. “You look beautiful,” he said. They faced each other. Lauren was unaware that they were right in the line of foot traffic coming in and going out of the building, unaware of the people around her. The city noises had even receded from her consciousness. All she heard was the sound of his voice. She stared at him.
Somehow, she had expected to see him in his customary T-shirt, jeans, and scuffed work boots. Yet, here he was, urbanely dressed in flat front charcoal pants that fit him oh-so-correctly, hugging his thighs and down his calves to brush against his loafers. A white shirt, open at the collar just seemed to accentuate his muscular build and the healthy, ruddy glow to his skin. He carried a black sport coat over his arm.
She had to smile back at him. “You look very nice yourself.”
“You can’t smell the fuel oil and soot?” he asked. He grinned, but she felt instantly foolish.
“I didn’t mean that, well, I guess I did,” she stammered. “At the time. I was crabby that day.”
“I was only joking.”
Lauren suddenly realized they were getting in everyone’s way. “Let’s go in,” she said, snapping back to reality. He offered his arm, and she slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow, lightly resting her fingers on his forearm. The moment she touched him, Lauren felt like fireworks had gone off in her body. Her heart raced, and she felt a dampness at the backs of her knees. She thought her thighs, that most sensitive part of her, would give way beneath her at any moment. Consciously subduing her passion, she smiled up at him as they made their way into the bar.
They sat at a small table, back out of the way. A tall waiter stood before them.
Lauren said, “I’ll have a Hendrick’s martini.”
“I’ll have Scotch. A Dewar’s,” Caleb added.
“On the rocks, sir?”
“Neat,” he said. The waiter nodded and disappeared.
“Whatever made you choose the Gramercy?” Lauren asked.
Caleb smiled a little. “Joan told me it was a good place to stay. She told me what to wear, too. I don’t get to the city much. Boston once in a while. I’ve been to New York a couple of times, but years ago.”
“Well, it is a good place,” said Lauren, looking around her and keeping the conversation light. “It’s one of the best places in the city.”
“It’s not my taste,” Caleb replied, following her roaming gaze. The waiter returned and set their drinks down on the little table.
“Really?”
“Yeah, kinda gaudy, don’t you think? This leather chair is nice, though.” He lifted his drink to his lips and sipped. Then he said, “You look beautiful tonight.”
“Thank you.” Lauren felt suddenly shy.
“I wanted to see you in your own environment, so to speak. I wanted to talk to you about what happened between us.”
Lauren set down her drink and dropped her hands in her lap to hide the tremble she felt. All her brave assumptions while she had been dressing were out the window. “I thought we were going to let what happened between us fade into our respective pasts.”
“I thought so, too,” said Caleb. “I thought I could do it, but I keep thinking about you. I keep thinking about that night.”
Lauren clenched her fists under the small table between them. “It’s just because you hadn’t, um, slept with anyone for so long. It’s just stuck in your mind.”
Caleb’s eyes searched her face. S
he could almost feel his caress. He seemed to ignore what she had said. He rested his elbows on either side of his Scotch and leaned forward over the table, visually devouring her with an almost hungry expression. “Tell me you don’t think about that night,” he said softly. “Please, tell me it was just a one night stand to you and you don’t go over and over it in your mind when you’re lying there beside your boyfriend. If you can honestly tell me that, I’ll leave here right now, and you’ll never see me again.”
Lauren picked up her glass and took a large swallow of the mellow gin. She concentrated on the distinctive taste of it going down her throat. Then she put the drink down and studied her fingernails.
“It’s true, isn’t it? Look at me, Lauren. It’s true, isn’t it? You think about that night. You think about me.”
Lauren looked up. Their eyes met and locked. The irresistible female and the irrepressible male smoldered there, in some time and place that was only theirs, making the magic that was only their own.
Caleb stood up and held out his hand to her. Their eyes never broke contact. She reached up and put her hand into his and felt his strong fingers close around hers. The waiter came back.
“Put the tab on my room,” said Caleb, as if he had been ordering random waiters around all his life. He reached in his pocket with his free hand and gave the man a twenty dollar bill.
“Thank you, sir,” said the waiter. Neither Caleb nor Lauren saw him disappear into the noisy throng of people in the Rose Bar at the Gramercy Park Hotel.
Caleb led the way, striding through the lobby, his fingers still holding lightly onto Lauren’s hand.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, catching her breath.
“Upstairs to my room,” he said, walking steadily to the elevators.
Lauren was powerless to refuse. She felt her blood pounding in her ears as she followed him onto the elevator and he punched the button. They rode up in silence. He never let go of her hand. When the elevator door slid open, he led her down the hall. It was the corner room. Caleb slipped the card into the electronic key port and opened the door.
Although Lauren had arranged several functions at the Gramercy, she had never been in one of the rooms. This one was large and opulent with tapestry-upholstered chairs around a small table, similar to those in the bar. The king-sized bed was situated on a raised part of the floor, opposite the windows which were hung with heavy, rose velvet drapes. The bed was deep in pillows, a rose duvet that was just a tone darker than the drapes, and several cashmere throws. There was a door to the bathroom off to the right. A pair of men’s jeans and a black T-shirt were thrown over the straight chair at the small desk. Small town did not, indeed, reflect a small mind.
Finally, Caleb let go of Lauren’s hand. He closed and bolted the door behind them. Lauren stood absolutely still. Caleb turned to her, standing very close, looking down at her with that same hungry, yearning expression in his green eyes. He put a hand on each of her shoulders, then caressed her, his fingers following the line of her collar bone, encircling her neck. His hands traveled lightly up her long neck, his thumbs tracing their way up her throat, coming to rest under her chin. Gently, he lifted her face to his.
It was the kiss that she remembered. It was the kiss that haunted her dreams. It was the kiss that set her soul on fire for him and wiped every other thought from her mind. Lauren let her body melt into his. Then his arms were around her, holding her so close her breasts pressed into his chest. His lips searched her face, covering her eyelids, her cheekbones, her mouth, and her throat with frantic, greedy caresses. She found herself kissing him back, reveling in the taste of him, in the warmth of his mouth, in the softly saltiness of his chest where his shirt was open. She pressed her tongue there, as though she could not get enough of the feel of him. She wrapped her arms around him, under his arms, clinging to him as desperately as she would a life raft. Save me, save me, begged the voice in her head.
Finally, he gripped her waist, holding her at arm’s length.
“Take your dress off,” he whispered hoarsely. “How do I get this dress off?”
She kicked off her heels. They clattered against the front of the armoire. His hands reached downward, finding their way up under the short skirt of her dress, lifting the material around her waist. Recklessly, she pulled at the dress, yanking it over her head, letting it fall in a heap on the floor. She had known, deep in her soul, that this would happen, even as she walked out the door of Charles’s penthouse.
Caleb let her go, then, and stepped back. She stood before him in her lacy white briefs and bra. With a lover’s knowledge, she knew the effect she had on him. Lauren heard his breath catch. Their eyes met again for a moment, and then he was down on his knees before her, kissing the soft skin of her belly. His tongue tickled her navel. Lauren felt her secret self dampen with desire. Caleb reached around, holding her curves from behind, spreading his hands and pulling her closer to his warm, searching tongue. He dipped his head and paid tribute to her inner thighs which parted, unbidden, at his touch.
Suddenly, her hands were in his hair. Her body arched to his kisses. She moaned, unable to contain the passionate longing within her that he was freeing with his infinite, glorious kisses. He looked up at her, his hands still exploring her round thighs, coming closer and closer to that part of her that was now blazing with desire.
“Lauren,” he said.
“Please,” she begged, lost in the sensation of his touch, “please, let me feel you. Let me touch you. Let me taste you, too.”
Caleb stood up quickly, and before she was fully aware, he scooped her up in his arms as easily as he might have held a kitten, and carried her to the bed. Gently, he laid her down.
“I’m going to love you, Lauren. I want to explore you, discover you.” He was tearing off his shirt, stepping out of his pants. Suddenly he was naked on the bed beside her, all there and all male. He stripped off her panties and released the front closure on her bra.
“Oh, Caleb, let me kiss you, too,” she said, entwining her fingers in the curly light brown hair of his chest and pushing him down on the bed. She knelt over him for a moment, smiling, before she bent down, taking his nipple in her teeth in a tender love bite. She heard him groan with the pleasant pain of it and felt his hips thrust upward against her. His hands went around her waist, but she took him by the wrists. “Not yet,” she whispered. “Not yet. I need to, I need to look at you, taste you, touch you.”
Lauren bent her head again, trailing a line of kisses down his middle, over his hard stomach, down to that graceful line of muscle that defined his groin. Then, with the most delicate touch, she stroked the length of his erection, wondering at the beauty of it. She began to cover the shaft with little licks and kisses until he was moaning and arching his hips.
Suddenly, she felt Caleb’s hands around her waist. He could wait no longer. He lifted her, wrapping his arms around her, fairly smothering her as he crushed her to his chest, rolling over on top of her. She felt that feminine place between her thighs tingle and swell in an invitation to him. Her thighs relaxed and embraced his hips. She opened herself to him, enticing him, and finally, sheathing him with her heat.
His thrusts were slow at first, and Lauren felt she might die, dangling as she was on the brink of her ecstasy. She raised and lowered her hips, meeting his thrusts, urging him. His fingers found the place where they came together, working their way between the folds of her flushed silken skin. Lauren gasped and moaned, giving in, letting the intensity of her climax wash over her, transport her. Caleb felt her thrill and released his pent-up passion, meeting her rapture stroke for stroke until he collapsed, throbbing, on top of her.
They lay like that for minutes, arms around each other, their sweat mingling, each listening to the beat of their own heart echoing in the other’s body, waiting for their breathing to return to normal.
“Am I too heavy? Can you breathe?”
“You’re not too heavy. I love the feel of your body on
mine.”
Caleb rolled off her, yet never let go of her. “Well, I like to look at you.” He trailed his hand over her chest, circling her breasts with his fingers. He ran his warm hand over her belly, tickling around her navel. “You feel cool,” he said. “Let’s get under the covers.” He threw a few of the extra pillows on the floor, pulled back the heavy comforter and they slipped between the crisp linens. They snuggled together. Lauren dipped her head and nuzzled his chest, drinking in the feel, the scent, the strength of him. She felt his arms cradling her, warm and protective.
Lauren whispered into his body. “Why do I feel so safe with you? I barely know you. You barely know me.”
“How long does it take people to know each other?” answered Caleb, burying his head in the masses of her blond hair on the pillow. “I know some couples who’ve been married thirty years and don’t know each other at all and people who meet and have an instant understanding of each other. That’s what I think happened with us. For whatever reason. For no reason at all.” He showered the top of her head with kisses and clasped her tighter to him.
Then, as it was every time she was with him, Lauren sighed contentedly. She relaxed into an animal-like state of mind, giving herself over to physical sensation alone. She wriggled in closer to him, leaving no space between his skin and hers, and, lulled by his rhythmic breathing, she fell asleep.
It was just after four in the morning when Lauren awoke. She was still in Caleb’s arms, but her heart was pounding. Her eyes flew open. I shouldn’t be here, she thought, suddenly panicked. I’m engaged to someone else. Why does this man hold such power over me?
As if he could read her mind in his sleep, Lauren felt Caleb stir. She felt the gentle tightening of his arms around her, felt his kisses in her hair, felt his desire rising up against her. He ran his hand down her arm, caught her fingers in his and lifted her hand to his lips. He kissed her fingers one by one, then pressed her hand above his heart. Lauren could feel the beat of the passion that was defining itself within him. She entwined her fingers in the curly hair of his chest. With a gentle sigh, Lauren closed her eyes again and allowed herself to be carried away with the sensation. She kept them closed. Opening her eyes would mean she might see the clock and be aware of the passing of time. Or she might see the window and be aware of the world outside. No, she would keep her eyes closed and savor this warm, safe womb of love in which she found herself with this remarkable man.
Small Town Girl Page 10
