Page 7 of Craving Cooper

I wasn’t about to argue, and after that, we got into an easy routine of seeing each other on the weekends. We didn’t spend all our time together in those early days, but she’d usually come over on a Friday night and stay until Saturday evening, or sometimes Sunday morning. Our time wasn’t spent exclusively in bed, either. We went out occasionally, too. But I have to say there was a lot of sex involved… and I mean a lot.

It seemed to work well for us… until we’d been together for about six weeks, I guess. I’d had a rough Tuesday at work, and I needed to unwind. By that, I mean I needed to have sex. I needed the release and I’m not going to apologize for that. Obviously, I knew I could have jerked off, but that would never have been enough. I could also have gone out and found whatever I needed in the arms of another woman, but that felt like hard work when I knew Meredith was just a car ride away. I didn’t see the harm in going over there. The problem was, she hadn’t been expecting me, and she made that very clear the moment she opened the door.

“I’m right in the middle of something,” she said, glaring up at me.

“Sorry. Do you want me to go?”

She gave that some thought and then shook her head. “You’re here now.”

It was hardly the greeting I’d hoped for, but she let me in and insisted I had to wait downstairs in the living room while she went up to her studio and finished what she was working on. She was gone for nearly an hour, and I’ll be honest… I thought about leaving. I hadn’t driven over there to sit by myself. If that was all I’d wanted, I could have done it at home. Eventually, though, she reappeared, wiping her hands on a towel.

“You shouldn’t just turn up like that,” she said, shaking her head at me.

“Why? Have you got another man upstairs?”

Neither of us had talked about being exclusive, and while I wasn’t keen on the idea that I might have been sitting downstairs while she was upstairs with someone else, I could hardly have complained.

She smiled, dropping the towel, and walked over, her hips swaying seductively. “No. I’m not like that, Cooper.”

It seemed unreasonable to say I wasn’t either, bearing in mind the only reason I wasn’t spending my evening with someone else was because I was too lazy. Instead, I smiled and said, “In that case, come here.”

I nodded toward the bulge in my jeans, and she licked her lips, kneeling before me.

I didn’t leave until the early hours of the following morning. She seemed reluctant to let me go, but we both needed some sleep and it didn’t seem like we were going to get any if I stayed. She kissed me goodbye on her doorstep, neither of us mentioning her outburst of the previous night.

I guess that’s why I thought it would be okay when I went over there a couple of weeks later. I can’t remember what made me do it, but something did, and when she opened her door, I realized my mistake.

“Cooper? Seriously? I’ve told you about coming over here when I’m busy.”

“Shall I leave?”

“I think it would be best. I’m working on an enormous canvas, and I can’t stop, just because you’ve decided…”

I held up my hand, and she stopped talking.

“I get the message, Meredith.”

I turned and left, driving home and feeling disgruntled. I didn’t mind accommodating her work. It was her attitude I objected to. So, when she called about an hour later, I ignored her. She called again, and in a moment of childish petulance, I switched off my phone and poured myself a beer. I found a half decent movie, and I lay out on the couch to watch it, jumping out of my skin when the intercom buzzed about thirty minutes later.

“Who is it?” I said into the mouthpiece.

“It’s me.”

I recognized Meredith’s voice, and although part of me felt like telling her to go away, I decided not to be as rude as her, and told her to hold on while I went down to let her in. One of the few disadvantages of the layout at my place is that the entrance to the apartment is via the clinic. That meant I had to go downstairs and through the reception to get to the front door, and I’ll admit, I didn’t hurry. She was waiting, wearing a knee-length coat tied with a belt at the waist, and high-heeled pumps, and she looked up at me, biting on her bottom lip.

“Am I forgiven?” she said, and slowly undid the belt around her coat, holding it open to reveal she was wearing nothing other than a lacy black bra and matching panties.

I pulled her inside and straight up the stairs, where I let her make it up to me for a couple of hours.

After that, we agreed that meeting up during the week wasn’t a good idea.

“I know you probably think I’m being selfish, but I love what I do,” she said, her hand resting on my dick as she lay beside me, her head on my chest.

“I love what I do, too.”

“Then I think it’s for the best, don’t you?”

I nodded my head. I wasn’t keen to be balled out again, just for going to see her, and I have to say, as time’s gone on, it’s worked out okay. We’ve perfected the art of living separately during the week, working fairly long hours, doing whatever chores need doing, and seeing our friends. We don’t even call each other. But from Friday night onward, she’s here, usually in my bed… until around nine on Sunday evening, when she goes home again to start another week.

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