Page 5 of Sex, Lust & Lingerie

“I. Think. You. Need. Me.”

A tug of my hair accompanied each punctuated word. The way he looked straight into my eyes made my heart patter. I was losing my cool. Several long seconds passed before I responded.

“No, Mr. Zander, what I need is a successful ad campaign.” And my sanity back. “And by the way, I don’t want to be in it in any shape or form.”

Jaime shrugged. “A big mistake, in my humble opinion, Ms. Long. You should learn to trust me. I thought you were doing a great job, but obviously you’ve regressed for some reason.”

Inside me, unexpected sadness mixed with my hormones. It took all I had to keep it together.

“And I think you should take your ring back.” I started to twist it off my finger, but because my period was coming, my fingers were swollen from water retention. I couldn’t get it past my knuckle. “Damn it,” I cursed silently as he tipped my head up by my chin. My pained eyes met his darkened pools of blue as I continued futilely to tug at the ring.

“Listen, Gloria, I don’t want the ring back. It’s not returnable.” He squeezed my right hand, trapping my fidgeting fingers and the ring in his fist.

“You can sell it on eBay or pawn it.” I ground out the words between clenched teeth.

His thickly lashed eyelids lowered. He looked wounded. “No, Gloria, I have no time or interest in doing that. And it’ll never fetch the price I paid.”

I suddenly felt bad. He had, beyond doubt, paid an exorbitant amount of money for it. It was a rare antique…unique and special. Two magnificent entwined diamond hearts. Priceless.

“Gloria, I want you to have it.” I stood frozen as he softened his grip around my hand and raised it to his lips. He placed a warm, reverent kiss on the ring, grazing my flesh, and then gazed into my eyes.

“Just accept it as a souvenir from Paris. And the kiss too.”

My heart was beating so loudly I was sure he could hear it. To my relief, there was a loud knock at the door, saving me from responding. “That must be the coffee. I’ll go get it.”

Freeing myself, I scurried to the door and opened it. Yes, coffee. With a cheerful bonjour, the waiter entered our chamber and set a silver tray with the coffee onto a small round table. After taking care of him, I busied myself pouring two cups of the steamy dark liquid—one for me and reluctantly, the other for Jaime. The smell of the rich caffeine wafted in the air. I generously poured steamed milk into both cups of the aromatic brew, remembering he liked his coffee café au lait style like me. As the warm, frothy liquid filled his cup, I reflected on how much I already knew about this man in less than a week’s time.

He strode toward me. “Great. Coffee for toi et moi.”

Toi et moi. The words echoed in my head. There was no toi et moi. Yet, I was aching, throbbing. Unwanted tears were verging. I needed to get away from him. “I’ll be right back. I need to use the bathroom.”

“I’ll be waiting for you.” He smiled warmly and took a sip of the steaming brew.

Inside the bathroom, I sat on the toilet longer than I needed. I finally grabbed a thick wad of toilet paper. I wiped my still throbbing folds and took a look, hoping not to see the first sign of my period. The last thing I needed was to fly home with soaked tampons and cramps. I breathed a soft sigh of relief when I saw no trace of blood. But my heart grew heavy. Remains of Jaime’s cum glistened before me. The memories of fucking him last night on the Grande Roue flooded my head. Oh my God! That explosive, mind-blowing orgasm. As I relived it, my core morphed into the Eiffel Tower, crackling with white lights. How could I live without this man inside me? I was second-guessing my decision to end our intimacy—would it end up being the worst business decision of my life? A tear of despair trickled down my face.

The sound of a phone ringing brought me back to the moment. It was either Jaime’s cell or mine; we had identical iPhones. When it stopped on the third ring, I knew it was his. I heard him say hello, and then the flush of the toilet and the subsequent running of water to wash my hands blocked out the sound of his voice.

When I stepped back into the bedroom, Jaime was still on the phone. He was pacing and the expression on his face was intense. Avoiding eye contact, he lowered his voice and said, “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you in LA, babe.”

As he ended the call, my heart skipped a beat. “Who were you talking to?”

“Another client.” His voice wavered.

Rage and jealousy crescendoed inside me. “Oh, so do you call all your female clients ‘angel’ or ‘babe’?”

He twitched a nervous smile. “Just the ones I find attractive.”

A blast of anger shot through me. I wanted to grab his phone and smack him with it. My second-guess thoughts evaporated like water. I had made the right decision. He was a rogue. A player. Except he wasn’t going to play with me. No fucking way.

“Mr. Zander, from now on, please only call me Ms. Long.”

“Is that what I should shout out when you make me come?”

I screwed up my face. Smartass!

He smirked at me.

Let him smirk. I braided my hair. I was back to being in control.

---