I thought we were headed to the roof, but it doesn’t seem that way. Still, isn’t this what I really wanted?
Will fishes in his suit jacket for his key card, and we’re barely in the hotel room before he’s on me, lips on my neck and hands on my boobs.
“You smell so good,” he mutters. “Touch me, babe.”
I do, though it’s hard to get my hand into position. He’s got me locked in his arms like a rum-scented straitjacket, and I get another flashback of Davis holding me like I’m porcelain. Fragile, obviously. But strong, too.
Why do I keep thinking of Davis? I’m trying to fulfill my sexual prophecy here, and my mind keeps fixating on the twenty-four-year-old bouncer who dry humped me against my office wall.
Focus.
I maneuver my hand to the front of Will’s pants and give a couple of half strokes, moving my wrist as much as I can in my position. He seems to enjoy it, if his rough groan is anything to go by.
“Fuck,” he breathes, the alcohol on his breath making my eyes water. “I’ve needed this.”
“From me?” The words are out before I can stop them.How desperate can you get, Cece?
“Yeah, baby, from you,” Will groans. “You’ve always been gagging for this. Now I get to give it to you.”
My heart stutters. My hand stills. “You knew I liked you.”
Will laughs. “Everyone knew you liked me.” He bucks his hips, trying to get me to continue, but I can’t. I’m frozen again, trying to process what he just said.
“And you just… didn’t do anything about it?”
“How could I? I was with Jenny, and you were… y’know. You. Besides, you were Tristan’s sister.” He palms my tits roughly. “You look good now, though. Knew you’d come running when you saw me again tonight.”
“What?” My voice wavers a little, and I hate it. Will looks down, and he must see the hurt scribbled across my face because a second later, my hand is off his crotch and clenched between his.
“Not in a bad way. It’s like I’m seventeen again. This whole time we’ve been talking, I’ve been waiting for your messages all day. Thinking bout you when I’m at work.”
“You think about me?”
“Fuck yeah. All the time.” He bends his head a little. “All day. All night too. Have you been thinking about me at night?”
Heat races up my neck. I’m not a prude, but this conversation, with him? It’s making me feel everything all at once. “Sometimes.”
And sometimes I think about someone else…
Shut up, Inner Cece!
“What do you think about?” he mutters.
“I think…” God, so much of what I think about him is fantasies from years ago, but I’ve been on dating apps long enough to know dudes are never jonesing for a walk down memory lane when they ask about your nocturnal musings.
“I think about the flowers you sent.”
“That’s right, I did send flowers. Yellow ones, yeah?”
“Um, yeah. You sent a couple of bunches?”
“Yeah, yeah. But they were yellow. And happy. Like you.” He lets go of my hand and slides his palms down my arms. “You’re always so happy. And so nice. And generous. It’s sexy.”
“It is?” It doesn’t sound sexy. It sounds… pathetic, almost.
“And babe,” Will’s looking down at me seriously now, “I need a little of that from you tonight. That happiness. You need to treat me good, tonight, okay? I’ve been under so much pressure at work. You wouldn’t believe the shit I’m going through.”
“Like what?” My hands are at his waistband, but I haven’t gone lower, just tucked my fingers into his belt loops.Thisis what I wanted. Sex, obviously, but also Will letting hisguard down around me. Letting me into his life.
