Dazed, I do as I’m told. She walks toward the restrooms beyond the bar. I sit on the red chair staring into space in the empty room, my mind a million miles away. From my periphery I become aware of the gate swinging open, Shauna returning to her station at the bar, and the guests who stepped out bellying up to receive the free drinks I assume were promised in exchange for their compliance.
A moment later, Talia swaggers from the ladies’ room, her long brown hair flowing in waves behind her, her gait even and confident. I’m grinning like an idiot when she sits down and palms her drink. Had she not told me to do up my pants, I might still be sitting here, my mind on another planet, my schlong on my thigh.
I am so fucking weak for this woman.
Talia
“I’ve never done that before,” I confess as Archer takes my hand and helps me out of the car. The night is clear but cool. I brace against a particularly chilly gust of wind.
“Proud to be your first time,” he replies casually.
I don’t feel casual. I feel… I don’t know how I feel. Nervous, I guess. I was caught up in him at the club. Being caught up scares me. I don’t know where my rational mind went. All I knew in the moment was that I wanted him. I wanted to take him, then and there, and give him an unforgettable experience.
“I need a shower.” I’m a little jumpy. Not because we had sex in a semi-public place. I trust him. He wouldn’t have agreed if he wasn’t sure we’d have privacy. Again, the idea of how I forgot about the rest of the world for a while swirls back into my consciousness. I lost myself in him tonight. If I look back over the past few months, I bet I’ll find I’ve been losing myself in him for a while.
Losing myself isn’t what I signed up for. I think of my former life—and note how it feels former. I don’t like that either.
He angles us toward his townhouse.
“What are you doing?” I pause at the alcove rather than follow him in.
“You said you need a shower. I happen to have a big one.” He waggles his eyebrows. “As you know that’s not all I have that’s big.”
“I’m tired from dancing. I’ll probably go straight to bed after.” After fantastic sex in the VP room, we stayed at Club Nine for another hour or so. We finished our drinks and danced downstairs until we were sweaty and exhausted. I knew he could move his hips, but I was beyond impressed by his ability to keep the rhythm. By the time we collected the car from the valet, I was hot and bothered all over again.
Now, I’m just bothered.
“I have a big day tomorrow,” I continue my one-sided argument.
“Take the day off.” He frowns.
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can. I’m your boss. I say so.”
His authoritative tone is as abrasive as a dry loofah. I pull my hand from his. “No, I’m my boss. I know what needs to be done. I need to do it.” Aware I’m overreacting, I fold my arms and look away. “I’m sorry. I’m cranky. It’s been a long day. I should…” I trail off as I point to my own breezeway.
Rather than let me avoid him, he stands so close to me his chest nearly touches mine. His tone is gentle, his voice softer than before. “I’ll give you room to sleep, but you’re doing it in my bed. In my space. I’m not letting you out of my sight after the stunt you pulled tonight. You want to shove me away, you don’t do it after doing something to me that’s never been done before and in a place I’ve never done it in.”
“Well, you can’t tell me what to do,” I reply haughtily as I slowly process what he just said. My stomach buoys and then sinks like I went over the first big hill of a roller coaster. “Did you say ‘never’?”
“Never. Never cleared the VP room in any of my clubs. Never had anyone clear it for me. Never met someone like you, who made me…lose myself like that.” His tone is achingly sincere when he mutters, “Sorry, sweetheart. You made a lot of promises tonight.”
He lost himself too? The jittery feeling in my chest expands to the rest of my body. I’ve crossed a line with him, and I never saw it coming.
“Will you be able to sleep without me?” He doesn’t wait for my answer before adding, “Knowing I’m next door, awake without you?”
I picture him, as lost as I will be without him next to me tonight. I’ll lay staring at the ceiling unable to understand what’s happening to me. He’ll be watching TV alone or maybe standing on the balcony in front of a fire.
Never met someone like you.
“What if I did to you what you did to me? Slipped you off my lap and cleared the VP room with a snap of my fingers.” He leans in the scantest bit closer, reminding me of how we were glued to each other at the club. “Gave you a ten-minute time limit. Then drove us home, dropped you at your door, and went to bed by myself. How would you feel?”
“I’d feel…fine,” I hedge, feeling anything but.
“You wouldn’t feel used? Discarded?”
“Not at all,” I mutter, even though he’s painting a not-so-pretty picture. Why does it sound so much worse with our roles reversed?