Sucker for the Boss

by Blue Sky Books

  He was looking at me keenly as well, his eyes traveling from my face to my chest and for a split second I thought I saw his gaze linger on the spot between my legs. I immediately blushed and I knew that he caught me having an embarrassing moment.

  “C’mon. Let’s go for a walk,” he said and grabbed my hands again. I hadn’t noticed when he had wrapped a chunky maroon scarf around his neck but he now pulled it off and hung it over my shoulders.

  “You need it more than I do,” he said with a smile and I thanked him while wrapping it haphazardly around my neck and shoulders. It smelt of him. That strong masculine scent of beer and cologne. I licked my lips as I became aware of the touch of his hands pressed against mine. Our fingers were laced together and I looked down to see his white knuckles in the palm of my hand.

  I chanced a glance his way as we began walking slowly through the cobbled streets of London, which was both quiet and devoid of traffic but bustling with people inside bars and pubs at the same time. His hair was ruffled in the wind, and his nose and cheeks had taken on a rosy hue in the cold night air. His blue eyes were focused on the street ahead, while he still had a faint smile on his lips.

  I looked away immediately, afraid of being caught. I hadn’t realized how much I needed this distraction. I hadn’t felt so carefree, adventurous and independent since I came to Princeton. Just walking down the streets of London, hand-in-hand with a stranger whose name I didn’t know yet, seemed to be just what the Doctor ordered.

  *****

  I had no idea where we were headed. We had been walking for what seemed like at least an hour. Our feet stamping on small puddles of day old rain, the cold breeze in our hair, while he told me legends about the Tower of London and the prisoners who had been locked away and tortured, centuries ago. Our hands had unclasped at some point, and I felt a dull ache in my palm where his hand had tightly gripped mine. I missed the touch. For some strange reason, he didn’t feel like a stranger to me.

  We arrived at the edge of a bridge and he suddenly turned to me.

  “I live just across the Tower Bridge. In Bermondsey,” he said, his blue eyes were looking into mine again. I nodded my head, pretending to know exactly where Bermondsey was, and smiled weakly.

  “Want to pop in for a night cap?” This man knows how to get to the point! I thought and looked away as if I was toying with the idea. Although, in all honesty, I knew I was going home with him. I wanted something to happen. Even though we hadn’t kissed or explicitly touched each other, other than holding hands, I knew I wanted to sleep with him.

  “Sure, why not,” I said eventually and I could see his eyes light up.

  “C’mon then,” he said, with a renewed cheer in his voice as he grabbed my hand again. We ran across the Tower Bridge, close to midnight, like a pair of teenagers who were running away from trouble. The wind carried our laughter as we giggled and stumbled and ran across the bridge to the other side. The scarf around my neck trailed behind me as he pulled my arm with his hand and ran in front of me. The metal chain of my purse strap dug into the skin of my bare shoulder, but I didn’t care. I was having fun. I was finally, having some uninhibited fun.

  We had just crossed the bridge over to the other side when he turned around on his heels and dropped my hand. Without a word he bent down and grasped my head between his hands and sunk his lips onto mine. I could taste the beer on his breath as his tongue furiously found mine and then explored the inside of my mouth. I wrapped my arms around his waist as my head bent backward to accommodate the force with which he was kissing me. I could feel my lips swell up and my eyes were shut tightly, to keep the rest of the world out of this wonderful moment I was sharing with him.

  We pulled apart after several minutes. We were both panting for air and it took me by surprise when he broke into laughter. His laugh was infectious, and I was giggling as well. Embarrassed by the suddenness of what had just happened and yet overcome by an uncontrollable urge to clutch my stomach and laugh like I had never laughed before.

  “Is this insane or what?” he said between his laughs and I nodded, biting down on my lips again as I focused on his trembling laughing body.

  “Just a few more minutes!” he said loudly and grabbed my hands again, pulling me in the direction opposite to the bridge.

  He was right; we had reached what looked like a fairly old yellow brick building within minutes.

  “My flat is on the second floor,” he said while rummaging in the pockets of his pants for keys. I stood behind him, with his scarf still wrapped around my neck. I couldn’t help but smile broadly. He finally managed to bang the door open and then held it open for me as I entered a small space with a set of stairs.

  “Follow me,” he said as he whizzed past me and up the stairs, till we reached a small wooden door on the second floor landing.

  “Home sweet Home,” he said with a flourish as he unlocked the door of his apartment and held it open.

  “I usually have a flatmate, but he’s on holiday now,” he said as we both entered the apartment. I looked around and drunk in the boyish mess, books strewn around the floor, an open laptop on a low coffee table. It was however, not even close to as messy as my own room usually tends to be. I looked back at him and smiled.

  “London is pricey. Can’t afford a home without a roommate,” he said and smoothly walked over to a corner table which had a crystal decanter and several glasses arranged neatly around it.

  “I’m afraid Whisky is all I have to offer,” he said. His voice had become more serious and gruff suddenly as he began pouring some of the golden liquid into two glasses. I had never been a big fan of whisky, but I didn’t want to tell him that.

  “That’s alright. I’ll limit it to one anyway,” I said and walked over to a large red couch which looked inviting and comfortable for my tired feet.

  “Have a seat stranger. Don’t be shy,” he said, without turning around. I had no idea how he knew I was contemplating sitting down. I sunk into the couch and slipped Elizabeth’s heels from my feet.

  “Your home is very cozy”, I said to him as he walked over to where I was sitting and placed the two glasses on the coffee table in front of me.

  “It serves the purpose,” he said with a smile and sat down beside me on the couch.

  We were quiet again, our eyes boring into each other’s faces as our bodies were mere inches away from each other. I saw him lick his lips subconsciously and I couldn’t control myself any longer. I leaned towards him and placed my hands on his knees to push myself upwards, so that our faces were now level with each other. I didn’t have to do anything else; without a word he kissed me again. His hand wrapped in my hair, while my hands now pressed against the solid muscles of his chest. He was kissing me like he didn’t care for good manners.

  *****

  “Amber!” I heard Elizabeth’s voice in my ear as I wriggled around on the slim bed in the dorm room I had been assigned while at King’s College. I mumbled under my breath as I tossed over to dig my face into the pillow.

  “Where on Earth did you disappear? I was so worried,” I heard her say and that is when the memory of the previous night came flooding back into my brain. Or at least what I think happened. I saw flashes of a man’s blue eyes staring at me, the scent of beer and cologne on my skin, his hands lifting me by my waist and placing me down on a bed. I sat up suddenly.

  “What the Hell is this?” Elizabeth said as she reached out for a maroon scarf that was tied around my neck. I looked down to it and wrapped it out and away from me, throwing it on the floor. I couldn’t believe I had just engaged in a one night stand, with a strange foreigner in London!

  I had still not responded to a single thing that Elizabeth had said and she was beginning to talk to me, asking me millions of questions.

  “Just slow down,” I said to her groggily as I reached out for a glass of water on the table next to my bed. I took a large gulp of the water while she waited in silence, her hands on her hips.

  “So. W
hat happened?” she finally asked. She didn’t appear to have calmed down by any means.

  “I don’t know. I might have gotten lost,” I said meekly, averting her eyes.

  “I was responsible for you! Why did you even leave the pub Amber?” she was yelling now and her eyes were bulging out of her sockets.

  “Well, I made it back, didn’t I?” I said with a huff and sank back in bed, pulling the covers over my head.

  “You gave me such a fright! You’ve slept through the entire Saturday,” she said and I heard her footsteps fade as she left my room. Finally I had some alone time to think things over.

  As far as I knew, I hadn’t told him my name. I definitely didn’t know his. But his face, his hands, his bare chest and the muscles of his thighs - were all clearly embedded in my mind. I had obviously not been drunk. I remembered it all clearly. This is something I never thought I would do, sleep with a complete stranger in a foreign country.

  I peeked out of the covers and stared up at the white ceiling. Well, I have nothing to lose this way, I said out loud and I couldn’t help but smile. I felt like I was on top of the world, like I had been given a new lease on life. I had taken a risk and done something completely out of character but I felt refreshed and rested for some reason. I could feel the energy flowing through my veins as I eventually sat up in bed again and gazed out of the window of my dorm room.

  I was thankful that I had revealed nothing about myself to him, and that I knew nothing about him. It was fun and it was good, but it would have to remain a mere memory. This was exactly the kind of experience I needed if I was to charge through the last year of college and prepare myself for the storm ahead, of applying for my PHD. I was still smiling as I got up and my eyes fell on the maroon scarf lying on the floor.

  I bent down and picked it up. Before I knew what I was doing I held it up to my nose and took in a deep breath. It smelt delicious, it smelt of him. A flash of an image of me tiptoeing out of his apartment, hit me like a sudden wave. I remembered clearly, walking in Elizabeth’s painful heels in the dim light of the morning for what must have been hours till I reached a Tube stop. The scarf was clutched in my hands and I held it close to my chest as I thought about the way he smiled, the way he laughed and how he held me as I fell asleep in his arms.

  I shut my eyes tight and bit down on my lip. There was no way that I was going to allow myself to be sentimental. It was a one night stand in London and that is all it was. Nothing more. The anonymity had made it thrilling but it had also thankfully provided me with the safety net I needed at this point in my life - to move on and forget it ever happened.

  I walked over to the bed again and climbed in. My feet hurt and I could feel a throbbing sensation in my chest. I couldn’t believe I missed his presence already. A man I barely knew. It doesn’t matter, I said to myself out loud. I’ll be out of the country in one week and any possibility of meeting him again in my life would be gone. He will forever remain the blue eyed, blonde Englishman who I spent one magical night in London with. I closed my eyes and tried to will myself to fall back to sleep. If there was a way to forget him, forget the night, it would have to be through a weekend of sleep and a whole lot of academic work after that. And if there was anybody who could accomplish that, it was me.

  *****

  New Jersey in the middle of winter is cold, but nothing like the past months of chilling wind and rain that I had faced in London. Although it was raining here too on some days, and every time I stepped on a puddle I was reminded of our cozy walk around the Tower of London that night. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t seem to get him out of my mind. I hadn’t even said goodbye, I hadn’t left him a note with my name and email address. Absolutely nothing. A clean break.

  “You look English too,” my friend John said to me, studying my pallor as we sat together in the library, making notes for the upcoming seminar that we were researching for our Professor. I rolled my eyes and threw him a weak smile. John and I had been good friends, like minded and professional. My schedule and my crazy study habits had however pushed him away by the middle of our second year. After my trip back from London, I had suddenly been instilled with a greater appreciation of relationships and friendships. I had, for some reason, learnt to cherish the few that I had.

  “Please don’t tell me you’re still thinking about him,” John said while scribbling furiously in his notes.

  “You’d be thinking about him too, if you were me,” I said and winked at him and he laughed. John being gay was an added bonus. We could talk about men freely, although in all honesty, he did most of the talking about men.

  “That good huh?” he said and rolled his sharpened pencil towards me and sat back in his chair. Folding his arms across his chest he gave me his full attention.

  “I don’t understand why you didn’t just leave your phone number, Amber,” he said after a few seconds.

  “Because I was trying to have a successful one night stand. And not to mention that he lives in London!” I said, trying to keep my voice as low as possible.

  “Hmmm,” John mumbled and looked away, as if in deep thought.

  “Well, I for one wouldn’t let someone like that just slip away without a second thought,” he finally added and went back to reading the book that was lying open in front of him. I sighed deeply and shrugged my shoulders.

  “If nothing else … It’s been so good for me,” I said with a broad grin and concentrated on my book again.

  “I can see that,” he said, without looking up.

  *****

  John and I were walking back to look for our Professor when he pointed at the maroon scarf around my neck.

  “Since when did you develop a good taste in clothes? Is that like Cashmere or something?” he asked and started feeling the fabric between his fingers. I instinctively pulled away from him and lowered my voice while leaning in towards him conspiratorially.

  “It’s his. I stole it. Apparently,” I said and pursed my lips and frowned.

  “You did not!” John nearly squealed and was laughing uncontrollably. “So wait. Now you’re going around wearing your English one-night-stand’s scarf around your neck?” he added, through his laughter. I jerked away from him and threw him a disgruntled look. I hadn’t thought about how weird the whole situation was ‘till he pointed it out to me so blatantly.

  “If you put it that way! I just happen to think it goes well with my sweaters,” I said and lifted my nose up in the air in defiance.

  “With ALL your sweaters?” he asked, he was still laughing. I didn’t bother to respond to that and instead quickened my pace and was now walking away from him.

  “You better watch out Amber! You might just get your heart broken,” I hear him say as I entered the quiet halls of the Geography building. I could hear his footsteps hurrying behind me, but I carried on forward. John couldn’t be right, could he? I mean, I didn’t even know the man’s name; I had no idea who he was. We had one night in London and it should have ended there. But my heart sank as I realized that I remembered in crystal clear detail, every mark on his body, the way his lips stretched across his face when he laughed. Most of all, the scarf still smelt of him and maybe John was right, that it was breaking my heart into bits and I didn’t even know it.

  I stopped in my tracks in the middle of the long corridor which eventually ended in the office of my professor. My feet had turned into concrete, they just wouldn’t move. I was clutching two heavy books and my notebook against my chest and I could feel my palms becoming sweaty. My lips were quivering; my eyes were vacant and questioning. I could hear my heart beating loudly in the silent corridor. With nothing else but the slow shuffle of John’s footsteps behind me as he was finally catching up with me.

  I was looking ahead. Towards the end of the corridor, right at my professor’s office, two men were standing, shaking hands. I couldn’t hear them as I was far away enough to be out of earshot. One of them was unmistakably our professor, who was on the left, his back tow
ards his office door while the man shaking his hand was HIM. The same pale skin, the blonde hair in a slick brush away from his forehead. He was wearing the same sweater in fact, only in a different grey shade. I couldn’t see his eyes as his face was in profile. But there was no mistaking it, it was him. In fact there was no turning back either, they had seen me - standing there in the middle of the corridor, clutching my books to my chest, a frightened expression on my face, while around my neck was wrapped his maroon scarf.

  *****

  I was going to make a run for it. That was the plan. Especially since I saw him walking towards me. John ruined it. He had reached my side by now and nudged me on the shoulder.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked and there was genuine concern in his voice. I turned to look at him and the words were choking in my throat.