I nodded, unable to refuse the offer.
“Good.” He gently moved me off him and walked to the door.
“Wait,” I said. “Where are you going?”
“I need to get my phone to call the concierge so he can bring us a few things.” He smirked. “We’re going to be here awhile..”
Meredith
Before
Several hours later…
* * *
Sunlight streamed through the windows in the morning, beating my skin with their harsh, unwanted rays.
I groaned as my eyes fluttered open, catching sight of the concrete jungle. Beyond exhausted, I slowly pushed the thick linens off my body and realized I wasn’t still bare-ass naked like I’d been all night. I was wrapped in a plush robe, my body still sore from hours prior.
Soft music played from the speakers that were hidden in the ceiling, the rough refrain of Frank Sinatra’s “Under My Skin” sifted through the open hallways.
On the nightstand to my left was a tall glass of water with two aspirin, a silver tray of assorted bagels, and a note from Michael.
* * *
Meredith,
* * *
I booked the room for the next few days since you’ll probably need time to recover.
You’re welcome.
~Michael
* * *
I mentally replayed all of our conversations, all of the times he was inside of me and brought me to a climax. I’d never been handled that way, never felt so connected to another person, and I never wanted to let it go. At least, not right now.
It was the best night I’d had in the past two years of my life, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it for a very long time; I also knew that I needed more of Michael. In any capacity.
Even a small dose right now…
Grabbing my phone, I dialed his number and hit call.
“Yes?” he answered on the first ring, his voice deep.
“Um, hi.” I lay back on the pillows. “It’s me. Meredith.”
Silence stretched over the line for several seconds.
“How the hell did you get this number, Meredith?”
“You opened your phone and texted the concierge at some point last night…” I paused. “I have a photographic memory.”
“How very interesting.” There was a smile in his voice. “Well, seeing as though I didn’t give this number to you, that means that I wasn’t interested in talking to you past our fucking.”
“Or maybe you forgot to give it to me, and you were just in a rush on your way out.”
“I can guarantee that wasn’t the case.”
“Well, I don’t see why you wouldn’t. We had a good time and talked quite a bit in between all of the sex. And you definitely came.”
“Not as many times as you.”
I blushed, and his sexy laughter came over the line.
“What’s the real reason you’re calling me, Meredith?”
“I wanted you to know that I meant what I said last night about not being okay with only having casual sex with the next guy I dated.”
“Hence, why I didn’t give you my number.”
“You mentioned wanting something deeper, too,” I said. “You said you don’t really get to know people past the two or three-month mark, and you’d always wanted to know what that’s like. You said that we seemed to both fit that bill… Did I misinterpret your words?”
Silence.
“It was nice meeting you, Meredith,” he said. “You and I can’t go any further.
“Is it because you’re married?” I wanted him to give me the truth. “Is that it?”
“No, I’ve never been married.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No.”
“You’re just not into me?”
“I’m very into you.” He paused. “But I can’t date you for reasons.”
“Tell me the best one.”
“Well for one, I’m way too old for you.”
“What?” I laughed, damn near falling off the mattress. “You don’t look a day older than thirty. I just turned twenty-five.”
“I’m thirty-nine.”
What? “Oh …” I said, several seconds later.
“Yes, oh.” He let out a low laugh. “Are we good to get off the phone and get on with our lives now?”
“No.” The word slipped out before I could think it through. “I think we should have at least one more date.”
“I don’t.” He ended the call without another word, and I scoffed at his rudeness.
When I finally realized that he wasn’t joking and wasn’t calling me back, I forced myself to get out of the bed. I made my way to the oversized bathroom that showed off a perfect sky view of Central Park.
Starting a bubble bath, I sighed as the suds slowly filled the tub.
I untied my silk robe and felt my phone vibrating in the pocket. Hoping it was Michael coming to his senses about our undeniable chemistry, I quickly pulled it out.
It wasn’t Michael. It was my dad.
Dad: Happy New Year, Meredith! Hope your year is off to a great start. I’m filing the campaign suspension papers when I get back from Italy in a couple weeks, and I’d still love to see you and catch up. Hope you haven’t changed your mind about us... Love, Dad.
Smiling, I assured him that I hadn’t, but before I could hit send on that message, a new email popped onto my screen.
* * *
Subject: One more date…
Since you asked so nicely, I’m willing to consider one more and only one more…
Name the time and place.
In the meantime, this is my email address.
--Michael
* * *
Subject: Re: One more date…
I think you’ll end up begging for way more than one when we’re done…
Next week. Somewhere in SoHo. (I’ll get back to you on that)
PS—Um…How’d you get my email address?
--Meredith
* * *
Subject: Re: Re: One more date…
I can guarantee that I won’t.
Let me know the time and place by tonight.
PS--You’re not the only one with a photographic memory…
--Michael
Meredith
Before
Three weeks later…
* * *
Me: Can I stop by Fahrenheit 900 this weekend? Maybe right before it opens?
Michael: You can stop by whenever you want as long as you don’t bring your damn phone. (Why would you ever want to come before it opens?)
Me: I’m never bringing my phone again. (That was me attempting to be discreet about wanting to have sex in your office … You know, since you clearly have no idea what romance is…)
Michael: Good. I will put you out next time. (Yes, you can stop by Fahrenheit 900 so I can lay you back on my desk and eat your pussy, before bending you over the wood and filling you with my cock from behind. Discreet enough?)