Drawn to You

by Jillian Anselmi

  He makes his way back down my torso to my belly button trailing kisses as he goes. My legs are still hanging off the end of the bed. He jumps off the bed and grabs my knees, spreading them. He leans down and kisses the inside of my thigh, making me squirm. His hands move to my thighs, pressing down firmly so I can’t move. He moves to my other thigh, nipping and sucking as he goes.

  “Ah,” I groan. I have never wanted someone as much as I want him right now. He moves so he is between my legs, and before I know it, he is sucking on my clit. Swirling his tongue around and around. His hands holding down my thighs as the sensation makes me shake and twitch. He keeps up his hedonistic torture. I bow off the bed, my body practically convulsing. He flicks his tongue and it sends me over the edge. I throw my head back and crying out as I come. He gazes at me through his long lashes as my orgasm rips through me. “Fuck Olivia, there’s that sound that drives me insane. God, I love watching you come,” he growls.

  As I start to regain my senses, he moves around the bed to the nightstand opening a drawer. I hear the rip of foil, and seconds later, he is straddling me again. He eases into me inch by inch. His tongue pushes its way into my mouth mimicking his movements. I can taste myself on his lips, which is sexy as hell. I grab the back of his head and kiss him back. I’m still pulsating from my orgasm, and as he quickens the pace, I feel another one coming on. I grab his forearms in anticipation. He kisses my neck, trailing kisses to my ear. I moan as he bites and pulls his way across my sensitive skin.

  He pulls out of me, flips me over so I am on my knees, and rams into me from behind. Grabbing my hips, he’s thrusting into me fast and hard. I can hear him panting, groaning as he pushes on. I am all sensation, my body convulsing around him. I let go as I reach my climax, my muffled screams in the pillow. He thrusts once hard then he stills, his body rigid as he pours himself into me.

  I lay on the bed panting. After a few minutes, he lays down beside me. He runs his fingers across my cheek, taking a strand of hair and tucking it behind my ear. “You are so beautiful,” he murmurs. I am so tired from last night’s exertions and all of the walking this afternoon. My eyelids refuse to open, and before I realize it, I doze off.

  Chase is sitting on the edge of the bed watching me as I open my eyes. He looks adorable. I notice that I am underneath the blankets. He must have done that since I don’t remember doing it. “How was your nap?”

  “Very good, thank you. How long was I asleep?”

  “Only about an hour or so,” he replies. “I can take you home whenever you’re ready.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “I’ll give you some privacy so you can change. Your clothes are folded on the stool in the bathroom.”

  “Thanks.” He gets up and exits the room, leaving me to my thoughts. I stand up on wobbly legs and make my way to the bathroom. I have had the most incredible weekend. I don’t want it to end, but I need to go home. Fixing my hair so it’s on top of my head, I take a quick shower.

  I walk back into the living room where Chase is waiting. He stands when he sees me, sauntering over to take me in his arms. “I wish you would stay.” He is being very persuasive.

  “I can’t. I need to get home.”

  “When can I see you again?” he asks, almost a plea.

  “I work Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays. Other than those days, I’m free.”

  “Can we have dinner tomorrow?”

  “I don’t see why not,” I reply.

  “Good, I usually don’t work too late. I should be out by three o’clock. I can be to you by five o’clock.”

  “Okay.” He takes my face in his hands and kisses my lips. “Do you have everything? The dress and shoes in my closet?”

  “No, I forgot about those. I’ll never wear them again, can’t you take them back?”

  “If I have anything to do with it, you’ll be wearing lots of dresses like this.”

  “Chase-” I start to resist, but he cuts me off.

  “Don’t argue. I’ll get them.” He wanders back into his room and produces a dry cleaning bag with my dress and a small boutique bag holding my shoes and undergarments. “When you wore this yesterday, it looked as if the dress was made for you. It was perfect, just like you.” He places a soft kiss on the top of my head. “Ready?” At my nod, he grabs his keys and heads toward the door. I follow behind.

  We exit the elevator and head out the lobby doors to a parking garage across the street. He walks over to the attendant and hands him his keys and a ticket. The attendant runs off into the garage. “My building doesn’t have underground parking, so I use this garage.”

  A few minutes later, the attendant comes back with a sleek black hard top convertible with the Volvo logo on the front. Chase opens the door for me, and I climb in. The dark leather is so soft. He moves around the car and climbs in the opposite side. He presses a button, and the trunk opens straight up from the window. The top retracts in three separate pieces, and folds away in the trunk. “Won’t have many more days like this,” he says as the trunk closes. The sun is starting to set, and the sky looks beautiful.

  “Nice car,” I quip.

  “I just got it last week. I had a Mercedes, but this is much nicer. Has a smoother drive.”

  “Which model is it?” I wonder aloud.

  “The C70 T5 Platinum.”

  Oh. I’ve always liked Volvo’s but can’t afford one. My Jeep does me just fine. He pulls out onto Broad Street and hits the gas. Wow, this car has power. He maneuvers around double parked cars and heads toward the FDR Drive. “My iPod is synched with the stereo system. Find a song and hit play, or you can hook it up to Pandora.” His voice is raised due to the wind screaming over our heads. I decide to see what kind of stations he listens to on Pandora. I open up the app to all different genres. I scroll down and choose a station I am familiar with. Hopefully, it’s a song I know. You never know what Pandora will play. The entrancing melody of Calvin Harris fills the air as Ellie Goulding sings about needing love. How apropos. Chase glances over at me, a smile playing on his lips. I settle into the soft leather as we cruise over the Brooklyn Bridge.

  “So, who were you with at Davis?” I ask genuinely intrigued. “We were never properly introduced.”

  “Oh, that group of knuckleheads? Friends from college,” he quips.

  “Do they have names?”

  “Yes.” He looks over at me and smiles.

  “And they would be?” I giggle at his coyness.

  “Oh, you want to know their names? You’re very demanding.” Jeez, he is such a wiseass. “Justin, I believe you met him. He was the one who answered the door the night you came to look for me.”

  “How did you-”

  “He called me right after you left. If he had any sense he would have asked for your phone number.” I detect a twinge of guilt in his voice. “Dumbass thought I already had it.”

  “Oh.” Why didn’t I give him my number?

  “Anyway, his date was the drunk blonde who answered first, Misty. He’s not dating her for her brain, if you know what I mean.” He smirks. “I don’t think she was sober the entire trip.”

  “I see,” is all I can manage to say.

  “Justin is the playboy of the group. He manages to have a good time no matter where we wind up.”

  “I’ll need to remember that.” Chase looks at me, and we laugh.

  “I don’t think you met Nathan. He brought his fiancée, Amanda. They’re getting married the 21st of September in Turks and Caicos. Should be fun.” I’ve always wanted to visit those islands. It’s beautiful there year round.

  “No, I caught a glimpse of them when you first arrived. They looked like they like to party.”

  “That’s the understatement of the year. Eventually they’ll grow up.”

  “What do they do?”

  “Justin is a plastic surgeon and Nate is the executive VP of global integration at Edelman.”

  “Edelman?”

  “It’s a PR firm. My company uses t
hem quite often.” Jeez, I am so out of my league it’s ridiculous.

  “Wow,” I murmur.

  “Don’t let the title fool you, he doesn’t do much. Still not sure how he graduated.” He chuckles. Okay, I need to move this conversation in a different direction. I pick up his iPod and change the Pandora station. I settle on something a little mellower. The Fray comes on singing how to save a life.

  “You have a very eclectic mix of stations on here,” I say smiling.

  “Depends on my mood,” he winks.

  “What’s your favorite?”

  “When I work out, I like fast upbeat songs. Rhianna, AC DC, Kanye-”

  “Kanye?” I cut him off. “I can’t stand anything by that egomaniac.”

  “What’s wrong with having an ego?” He’s is trying to goad me, but it won’t work. He laughs the prick.

  “What else?”

  “I love jazz, but you already know that. It helps me relax after a stressful day. Driving, I listen to anything and everything.”

  “Country?”

  Chase thinks for a second. “Not really, although some songs are okay.”

  “I love Zac Brown. My new favorite country singer, although he is more pop than country.”

  “Don’t know him. You’ll have to play something by him for me one day.”

  “Sure. I listen to him along with Jimmy Buffett all summer long.”

  “Okay, my turn. Who is your favorite, besides the obvious?”

  “I like Indie bands.” I search for a station on Pandora, hoping my song will come up. “Coldplay, Christina Perri, Skylar Gray, especially Snow Patrol.” A Snow Patrol song comes on. Not the one I’m looking for but another good tune.

  “Yeah, they’re good,” he nods in agreement.

  “They make me relax, like jazz does for you.”

  “I’ll need to remember that.” He is so sweet.

  We talk for the entire ride discussing everything from favorite movies to things we want to do in life. It took me months to learn this much information about Evan. We speak to each other like we’ve been friends for years. Chase has a witty sense of humor that keeps me laughing. I can see by his reaction that it makes him happy to see me like this.

  “Maybe once you figure out where you’re going to work, I can I help you pick out an apartment?” he asks apprehensively.

  “Sure, but my budget and yours may be just a bit different,” I giggle.

  “I know, I just want to help,” he says over the radio.

  After a series of turns that his GPS tells him to make, we arrive in front of my mother’s house. He steps out of the car and walks around to my side to open the door. Always the gentleman. I am awkward as I step out, not being used to a car so low. He grabs my arm to steady me. Once out, I turn to him.

  “Thank you for the most incredible weekend,” I say softly.

  “If it were up to me, I would give you more,” he whispers. He pulls my hand toward his mouth and plants a gentle kiss under my wrist. “Give me your phone,” he says with a crooked smile. Puzzled, I reach into my back pocket and hand him my iPhone. He takes it and presses some buttons. It’s only then I realize what he’s doing. I never gave him my phone number, and I don’t have his. His phone starts to ring in his pocket. He nods his head and hands me back my phone. “So I can bother you later.”

  “Thanks.”

  Smiling, he pulls me into his arms. “I want to bother you every day.” He places a tender kiss on my lips. It turns more passionate as our tongues meet and become intertwined. He places his hands on either side of my face, cradling my head. My heart is racing, my breath becoming ragged. Pulling back, he gazes down at me. “At this rate, you’ll never get inside,” he whispers. I so don’t want him to leave. “Can I call you later?” His question is tentative. I nod my head, still trying to catch my breath. “Good,” he breathes. As I get up to the door, he waves and heads back to his car. I watch a bit despondent as he drives away.

  I open my front door knowing the inquisition will start in three, two . . .

  “Liv, I’m in the kitchen,” comes my mother’s voice. She is, no doubt, going to have a million questions, and I’m exhausted. I just want to lie down and go to sleep. I wander into the kitchen knowing full well there is no avoiding this.

  “Hi, Mom,” I greet. I throw the bag holding my dress over a chair, dropping the other bag to the floor.

  “How was your date? It must have gone well since you didn’t come home last night.” Her voice is filled with a combination of curiosity and contempt.

  “It was good.” I am not about to share the intimate details.

  “Are you going to introduce me to him?” she asks affronted.

  “Mom, we’re barely dating. I’m taking things slow.” I make my way over to the fridge knowing I’m going to need a drink for this conversation. I find an open bottle of Pinot Grigio.

  “Well, that’s good to know. Where did you go? You never got a chance to tell me.”

  “Into Manhattan to a club inside the Sherry Netherlands.” I keep my replies simple, not wanting to give anything away. I find a glass in the cabinet and pour.

  “Ooh, fancy shmancy,” she mumbles under her breath. “What was the party for? You never said that either.”

  “It’s an annual party for his company’s investors.”

  “What does he do?”

  “He’s a real estate lawyer.” I feel proud sharing this. Evan tried college, but decided it wasn’t for him. He got a temporary job doing construction, which turned into a career. My mom wished he’d stuck with school.

  “Does he work for a large company?” she asks.

  “Yes, it’s his father’s. The Remington Group.”

  She makes a grumbling sound in her throat. “Never heard of them.”

  “They’re out of Manhattan and deal with large real estate transactions. Have you made any large real estate purchases that I don’t know about?” I hear the edge to my voice, but I haven’t been home five minutes and she’s already starting in with me. Damn Evan. Why did she have to like him so much?

  “No,” she remarks, put out. I feel like I’m back in high school. “But sometimes I read the New York Times.” Like that will make her super knowledgeable. “I spoke to Evan today, told him you were back.”

  “You did what!” I shriek. “Why?”

  “I wanted to talk to Rachael, and he answered the phone,” she says, trying to stifle a smile. “He told me to tell you to call him.” Great. I thought I had until the end of the summer to deal with him. Now that he knows I’m home, he won’t give up. He can be very tenacious when he wants to be. I finish the glass of wine and pour another.

  “Stay out of my personal life, please. If I wanted Evan to know I was home, I would have told him.”

  “Honey, I’m only trying to help.” She tries to sound semi apologetic, but I know she’s really not sorry.

  “I don’t want or need your help.” My voice gets louder by the syllable. She has the audacity to look wounded. I’m the one who should be mad, and she thinks this is about her. I can’t take any more of this tonight.

  “You are still my child and will treat me with the respect I deserve.” Her voice is now raised.

  “Fine, just don’t talk to Evan. I’m going to bed.” With that, I grab the bags and the bottle of wine along with my glass and make my way up the stairs.

  Once upstairs, I hang the garment bag in my closet. Placing the bottle of wine down on the nightstand, I take a long sip. I can’t believe my mother spoke to Evan. What mom does that? Mine, that’s who. She’s has been an overbearing maniac ever since Dad died. I know she wants to be involved in my life, but she can’t live it vicariously through me.

  Sometimes I feel that she’s trying to control my life because hers is so out of control. Mom is a control freak, but Dad was there to talk her down. I don’t have the patience that he had. I do love her, and I try my best to be the understanding daughter. I lost him too. I know she’s hurting, but I
can’t deal with the daily mood swings and freak-outs. The sooner I move out and get some space, the better it will be for both of us.

  As I take another welcome sip of wine, my cell phone rings. Please, don’t let it be Evan. I reach across the bed to see Chase’s name pop up on the caller ID. He must have programmed that in.

  “Hi,” I greet.

  “Hi, beautiful,” he purrs into the phone.

  “You’re home already?”

  “No, I’m driving. I wanted to hear your voice.” His words are warm and seductive, making my heart go into palpitations.

  “You shouldn’t be on the phone if you’re driving,” I playfully scold.

  “Oh, but I’m not on the phone,” he replies. “It’s connected through the stereo so I’m hands free.” I forgot he has a brand new high tech car. “I was wondering where you might want to go to dinner tomorrow night.”

  Oh crap, I totally forgot about that.

  “I don’t care, wherever you want.” I lie down on the bed like a teenager talking to her boyfriend.

  “I’m not really familiar with Suffolk, being from Nassau. I’m hoping you know of somewhere great near you.”

  Oh, I don’t want to choose. Way too much pressure on me. If I choose somewhere expensive, I’ll look like a money hungry whore. If I choose somewhere cheap, I’ll look like I don’t go out often.

  “I don’t really know what you like,” I hedge.

  “I’ll like anything as long as I’m with you.” I think he can sense my trepidation. “Don’t worry about price. We can go anywhere you want,” he says. There is this one spot I’ve always wanted to try but could never afford. It’s a very trendy restaurant on the north shore that opened up last year. That’s if we can get a reservation. From what I hear, they’re always booked.

  “Can I think about it?” I ask pensively.

  “Of course, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

  “No, it’s okay. There are a few places I have in mind.”

  “Good,” he says. “I’ll let you go. I’m sure you want to get some sleep.”