My phone lit up with her name on the screen. I watched it ring for several seconds before I finally grabbed it and answered. “Hey, sweetheart.” I leaned back against the couch and put my feet on the coffee table.
“I wish I had a nickname for you.”
“You could always call me sir.” I grinned because I knew she wouldn’t like that one bit.
“How about pig?” she countered. “That’s a lot more suitable.”
I chuckled. “It is, but it’s not very affectionate.”
“Why would I want to be affectionate with a pig anyway?”
I grabbed my glass and took a drink. “What are you doing right now?”
“Sitting on my couch.”
“You want to sit on my couch?”
“Are you inviting me over?”
“Sweetheart, you’re always invited to come over.”
“Really?” she asked. “Be careful…I might take you up on that offer. You always have food in the fridge, a bottle of wine, and your couch is comfy.”
“What about me? Aren’t I a perk?”
“When you aren’t being grouchy,” she teased. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“You want my driver to pick you up?”
She chuckled then hung up.
Twenty minutes later, the elevator doors opened, and she stepped into my apartment. She wore cutoff jean shorts and a pink t-shirt, her brown hair straight. She set her purse on the table in the entryway then approached the couch. “Sweatpants and booze…had a long day?”
“Would you prefer me naked?”
“Actually, I would.” She grabbed my glass from the table and took a drink before she scrunched her nose. “I don’t know how you drink this stuff all the time. It’s like liquid smoke.” She took another drink then shook her head abruptly in disgust.
I took the glass back. “It tastes better on a woman’s skin.”
“I figured a woman would taste good on her own.” She settled into the couch beside me, her hand immediately moving to my stomach as she came closer to me. Whenever we were alone together, she always showered me with this kind of affection, her fingers lightly clawing at my skin.
“She does. But sometimes she needs a little kick.” My hand moved into the back of her hair, and I fingered the soft strands. I pictured myself yanking her head back while I rode her from behind. I’d popped a few cherries that way, and while I enjoyed it, I usually preferred to look into a woman’s face as I watched her struggle to fuck a man for the first time.
She moved closer and placed her lips gently against mine, her perfume entering my nostrils at the same time. She kept her eyes open as she kissed me so softly, her lips like two pillows. Her hand pressed against my chest before she dragged her fingers down my sternum to my stomach. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
She felt the grooves of muscle in my abs, her fingers catching the band of my sweatpants. She stared at my hard chest for a moment, like she was fantasizing about it being on top of her. “Have you been with anyone else since me…?” She didn’t look me in the eye. As if she was trying to protect herself from my answer, she avoided the intimate gaze.
“No.”
She lifted her chin and met my look, the surprise in her eyes. “Really?”
“Really.” I was free to do whatever I wanted, but since I’d been obsessed with Monroe, other women became irrelevant.
“Why is that?” Her hand slid down to my thigh where she let it rest.
“I guess I prefer to conquer one woman at a time.”
“But it’s been almost a month.”
“I guess you’ve hogged all of my attention.” There was only one cherry I wanted to pop at the moment, and until I did that, I wouldn’t be able to fantasize about anyone else. She was the only goal I had in mind.
Her fingers tightened on my thigh, and she took a deep breath, as if deep thoughts were passing through her mind. “So it’s just you and me. It’s been you and me all this time…” She didn’t show happiness or disappointment. She seemed calm, at peace.
“I suppose.”
“And you still think we’ll go our separate ways once you get what you want?”
“Yes…that’s how it works.” I hoped she didn’t misinterpret my monogamy. My celibacy had nothing to do with her. “I’m a goal-oriented person. I like to finish one task before I move on to the next. This project is incomplete, and until it is, I won’t be moving on.”
“But maybe it won’t be complete after we’re together.”
That’s what completed all of my arrangements. “I think so, sweetheart. Don’t mistake my monogamy for anything more than it really is.” I found Monroe alluring in special ways, because she had so many unique qualities. She was a woman who treasured her values. She was a woman so beautiful it hurt to look at her sometimes. And she didn’t put up with shit—not even from me. Of course, I was obsessed with her. Any other man would be. But like all men, once I got what I wanted, my obsession died.