Want.
Desire.
Attraction.
I feel it too. Every tremor. Every vibration. Every tiny quake of energy between us.
It makes my inmost muscles coil, longing for something thick and hard to squeeze onto.
“Just to be clear: I’m not looking for anything serious,” I blurt out. “Just—just someone to hang out with while I’m up here doing the story.”
“I get it.” He nods once. “I’m game.”
We haven’t talked about his kids, but for whatever reason, I feel like they should be mentioned. “You’re a father.”
“I’m a man.”
Fuck, yes, you are.
“Are you getting over someone?” he asks me.
“Yeah. How did you know?”
“Sensed it.” He shrugs. “I wonder if we both came here tonight hoping to find a rebound.”
I know I did.
There’s something reassuring to know that we have this in common. Our motive for meeting is the same, which means there shouldn’t be any confusion or hurt feelings. It’s comforting. It’s exciting. I’m in unchartered territory with a complete stranger and it’s completely exhilarating.
“We can,” I say, feeling my heart speed up and my breath draw shallow, “use each other. Put some distance between the last perso
n and the next person.”
“The next person?” he asks, rubbing his bottom lip with his index finger.
“The next person. The real person. The person you find after me, and I find after you. The person we each end up with.” My breasts tingle a little as my nipples harden and I arch my back. It’s instinctual, I think, to show him what I’m offering. Like a male animal smelling a female’s ass before he mounts her. “Like you said, we’re both looking for a rebound. I’ll be that for you, if you’ll be that for me.”
“No strings attached?”
“None.”
“Just…sex?” he asks, the word heavy on his tongue. And fuck, but I want that tongue in my mouth, on my skin, swirling around my now-throbbing clit.
“Yeah,” I whisper, then laugh softly. “And maybe a little witty banter.”
That makes him smile, but only for a second.
He picks up his glass, finishes the remaining scotch in one gulp, then places it back down on the table. Leaning forward in his seat, he pulls out his wallet, grabs a twenty-dollar bill and slides it under the empty glass.
“Are you staying here?”
“No.”
“I’ll get us a room.”
My breath catches because that is the sexiest motherfucking thing I’ve ever heard. It makes me feel far naughtier and bolder than I’ve ever felt before.
“I’ll meet you at the elevator,” I say.