Page 5 of Lessons in Love
Our bodies are close, her knees against my legs. “We can do this another time.”
When she looks up at me, I can see the trust in her eyes. “I want to be here.”
“Okay. Be here with me.” Not a question. A request.
Her voice softens, her body following suit. “Did you know I’d end up back here?”
“No. But it doesn’t change the fact that I hoped you would.”
Her smile grows and she stands. Giving me one easy search of the eyes, she moves and I step back, letting her walk around the office freely. “This place must see a lot of action?”
“It does.” Honest. No apologies.
An amused scoff whips through her lips. “You’re kind of arrogant.”
“You’re very pretty.”
The shyness from earlier returns, but she pretends to own the compliment. For someone as beautiful as she is, I would think compliments are commonplace, but by her reaction, I get the feeling she doesn’t receive many. Tapping the top of the desk, she asks, “How much action has this desk seen?”
“Too much.” Honest. No apologies.
She turns, so I give her space and retrieve the gin from the liquor locker. Touching the chair, she asks, “How about this chair?”
“More than the desk.” Honest. No apologies. When I have the bottle in hand, I waggle it for her to see. “Got it.”
Constance is keeping herself entertained by trying to find a surface that hasn’t been fucked on, under, or over. “The loveseat?”
“I can’t even talk about the deviant acts that have taken place over there.” Honest. No apologies.
“Deviant? I’m very intrigued.”
I take the shots I just poured and hand her one. “The most baseline sexual acts you can think of and I’ve done them in this room.” Honest. No apologies.
“Will you do me in this room?”
Surprised by her initiative, my attention lands firmly on her. “My pleasure is your pleasure.”
She sips the gin shot and sets it on the desk. “That’s good. Smoother than I expected. How about you?”
“I’ll let you determine that.” I shoot the shot and set the glass down. “Take off your jacket, Constance.”
With her eyes latched onto mine, she lets the jacket slide down the arms of her hot pink silky shirt. Being careful not to wrinkle it, she hangs it over the back of one of the chairs. “Now what?”
“Why’d you come to The Hideaway tonight?”
The Gimlet speaks for her. “My college roommate has known you since the summer. Katie O’Dowd.”
The name brings back memories, memories I’m probably okay not recalling. “Katie O’Dowd. I remember her. I fucked her in the bathroom. She liked the door unlocked so people could walk in and see us.”
“That’s what she said.”
“Is that what you’re into? Do you like to be watched?”
“No. I don’t know. I don’t think so. What about you?”
The stammering is a clear sign I’ve touched on something that makes her uncomfortable. I attempt to get her back on track. “Not really. What brought you here?”
“A date, like I said earlier.”
