Page 14 of Consultation with Dad's Best Friend
I can’t sleep a wink during the night and rise before dawn. I wait at the living room to speak to Mike.
Mike comes down, freshly washed and dressed, although I detect signs of weariness from his slightly puffy eye bags. Even so, he looks sexy, and I can’t help feeling all tingling again.
“Good morning, Mike,” I say to him after taking a deep breath. “Are we still going to the Getty Center?”
“Of course, Kitty,” he says, avoiding my eyes.
It takes about half an hour’s drive from Mike’s house to the Getty. We speak little when we’re in Mike’s Porsche. I don’t even remember how we get to the museum. I only vaguely remember taking the tram from the parking and landing on the top of the hill where the museum is located.
Mike keeps a distance as we walk. Even so, I feel the friction between our nearly touched skins. I inhale his sandalwood scent madly every time I catch a whiff of it and I shiver whenever I meet his eyes.
I love going to art museums. I feel in awe when I view the artworks created by people who lived hundreds of years ago. I marvel at the tremendous amount of effort and time the artists took to create them. They have the power of transporting me into fantasy land, and I always feel spiritually purified when I’m inside a museum.
But not today. Today my mind has no room for intellectual or spiritual pursuits. It’s dominated by carnal instinct. We are in the exhibition of Michelangelo’s work. While Mike appreciates the drawing skills and mastery crafts of the famous artist, all I see are naked bodies. Beautiful, male, naked, bodies. And yet, none of them is as beautiful as Mike. Oh, God! Just remembering his taut muscles makes my mouth water, not to mention his…
“Look at the arm.” Mike interrupts my dirty thoughts. He’s examining a drawing on the wall. “I can see the tension and the force just by the shapes of the muscles.”
I look at the picture and nod. It’s a beautiful, muscular arm. I recall Mike’s biceps when he held me last night. Yes, I can still feel the tension and the force… My thighs tingle. Holy shit. I need to get a grip.
After the museum, Mike takes me to an Italian restaurant for lunch, and then he drops me off at his house at around two, saying he has to go to his office.
“When will you come home?” I ask after getting out of his car.
“The usual time,” he says.
I want to cry when I hear that. I was hoping he’ll be home earlier because tomorrow I’ll be going back to Sunnyfield.
But I hold back my tears. I know by now that Mike isn’t a person that’s easy to convince. Although he is attracted to me, he has a strong moral sense, and he wants to do the right thing. I don’t want to make it difficult for him.
“Okay,” I say, forcing a smile. “I’ll see you later.”
“Bye.” His eyes linger on mine as if he wants to say something, but he swallows and drives away.
Chapter 14
Mike
I don’t have much to do in my office. I’m here mainly to hide from Kitty. Shit. This is ridiculous. I should spend time with her because she’s leaving soon, but I don’t want to blunder again.
I review some legal documents my assistant prepared over the week and research on some regulations related to a case. And then my thoughts return to Kitty. She’s leaving tomorrow, and I don’t know when I’ll see her again. I won’t have to face the temptation again, but I’ll for sure miss her, too. Fuck. Not a minute in the past week have I not thought about her. This morning at the Getty, I had to focus on the art display in order not to let her distract me.
Her scent alone was enough of a challenge, not to mention the memory of what we did last night. Even now, I can’t stop thinking about it. She was so eager to please me and so insistent. Where did she learn all the skills? The thought that she’s practiced on other men drives me insane. I want her to be mine and mine only. Holy hell. She isn’t mine, but all I need to do is to go home and take her. Why am I not doing it? I’m scared. It’s what it is. My desire for her is not a temporary infatuation. Her crush for me might be longer than my lust for her, but my feelings for her have a stronger magnitude. I don’t want to just play with her. I want to own her. I want her to be mine and forever mine. And as much as I want to claim her entirely, I’m afraid I’ll lose her one day. I’ve seen enough divorce cases to know age-gap marriages have a higher chance of failing. The younger party will cheat and the older one will end up heartbroken.
Shit. Since when have I become so lack of confidence? Of course, there’s also the problem with John. I value our years of friendship. If we switched roles, I wouldn’t want him to have my daughter, either. He’ll undoubtedly hate me. What a fucking mess. The worse thing is, I know what the right thing is, but I don’t want to do it. I want to follow my heart instead of my head. Hell, I’ve been doing it a lot lately. Haven’t I? Is it really so bad to date your best friend’s daughter? What would Cay say?
The next minute, I’m googling Ask Cay. I can’t believe it. I must be out of my mind.
Chapter 15
Kitty
I’m not really in the mood to give love advice, but I turn on my computer just to distract myself.
I answer a couple of dating questions and speak to a client about kissing, and then I decide to write a blog about my past days’ experience. I want to tell my potential readers and listeners I might be wrong about girls being sexually outgoing. Perhaps some guys nowadays still appreciate girls being reserved or hard to get, especially guys who like to be in control, guys like Mike.
I’m into the second paragraph when I see a notification on my website. A middle-aged male caller needs advice on a relationship. I pause for a moment and click on the call button while putting on my professional, mature, consultant voice that I’ve practiced over and over for two years.
“Hello, I’m Cay. How may I help you today?”
