Nights With Him(38)
“I can picture that,” she said, and this time she reached out, running her hand down his arm. “I can see how that would help.”
He liked that they both had reasons for their ringtones that were deeper than just randomness of the universe. That it was about music, and the way music mattered to them both. It mattered differently, but it was equally important. A cigar wasn’t always a cigar.
“Stay the night,” he said, trying again with her. He wanted more of her. He liked himself better when she was near.
She shook her head.
“Please. I like the way you feel next to me, even just like this.”
“No. I need to be in my own bed.”
“But you look so good on mine.”
“I feel good in it. But I need to go home.”
“First things first,” he said, then dropped his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply, the way she liked, the way that made her wriggle underneath him in seconds, and wrap her legs around his waist. The way that turned her on in a heartbeat. Made her wet and hot and needy for him. He’d learned her body quickly, studied her cues, and knew how to turn her on in record time. It was as if he alone possessed the secret code to unlock her desire.
He pulled off her panties, rolled on a condom and entered her. Within seconds she was moaning, her head back, her arms wrapped tight around him, her legs gripping him. It was a quick fuck, a goodbye-and-see-you-tomorrow one. It was a promise that this wasn’t the last time, that there would be many more.
And that they both just needed one more moment of connection before she left without staying the night.
* * *
from: justjack@gmail.com
to: michellewithtwols@gmail.com
date: Sept 10, 10:32 AM
subject: Your email address
Been meaning to ask this—I take it there are no devilishly handsome CEOs of lingerie companies who have access to this email? That you set it up just for me?
from: michellewithtwols@gmail.com
to: justjack@gmail.com
date: Sept 10, 10:55 AM
subject: Spotting it from across town
You have a bit of a jealous streak, don’t you? And I assure you, there are no other devilishly handsome CEOs that I know at all, lingerie or otherwise, and they certainly wouldn’t be emailing me here, seeing as I just set it up for you. But I have often thought the handyman in my building is quite cute.
from: michellewithtwols@gmail.com
to: justjack@gmail.com
date: Sept 10, 10:56 AM
subject: Couldn’t resist
I’m just kidding. He’s not that cute. OK, maybe a tad cute.
from: michellewithtwols@gmail.com
to: justjack@gmail.com
date: Sept 10, 10:57 AM
subject: Couldn’t resist either
Not as cute as you though, when you’re jealous.
from: justjack@gmail.com
to: michellewithtwols@gmail.com
date: Sept 10, 11:01 AM
subject: A mile wide
My jealous streak knows no bounds. Especially not after this weekend. Not after the hallway. Not after the couch. Not after the shower. Hell, not after what you did to me on the Met Life Tower.
from: michellewithtwols@gmail.com
to: justjack@gmail.com
date: Sept 10, 11:03 AM
subject: WHAT I DID TO YOU?
I think it was the other way around.
from: justjack@gmail.com
to: michellewithtwols@gmail.com
date: Sept 10, 11:11 AM
subject: YES
No. It was not. What you did to me was make me want more of you. I have a large appetite when it comes to you.
from: michellewithtwols@gmail.com
to: justjack@gmail.com
date: Sept 10, 12:01 PM
subject: I have to ask
Why?
from: justjack@gmail.com
to: michellewithtwols@gmail.com
date: Sept 10, 12:18 PM
subject: I have to answer
Why do I want you? Because you are smart. Because you are beautiful. Because you make me laugh. Because you are sensual and passionate and the way you give me your body drives me absolutely fucking wild, and now I am rock-hard again for you. There. Satisfied?
from: michellewithtwols@gmail.com
to: justjack@gmail.com
date: Sept 10, 12:56 PM
subject: With you? Always satisfied . . .
Thank you. That was very nice of you.
from: justjack@gmail.com
to: michellewithtwols@gmail.com
date: Sept 10, 1:08 PM
subject: Nice is a bad word
It wasn’t nice. There was nothing nice about that. It was true, is what it was. Which is why I set up this email just for you. Why aren’t you here working in the same fucking building? I want you, Michelle.
Because if she were in the same building she’d get nothing done. She’d keep popping up to his office to visit him. Better that he worked across town. Besides, she had a packed schedule, and another new client in ten minutes, so she clicked out of her email and skipped over to her patient notes from the office manager. Another scant set of details, as was expected. The only info she had on the man named Clark Davidson was two words long—marital challenges.