Page 9 of Hale Yes
With a raspy voice, he cries, “I’m ejaculating my semen.”
Fucking hell.My libido takes a nosedive at that very awkward proclamation, and I blow out a frustrated breath while Conrad comes into the condom. Five heaving breaths later, he rolls off me and covers his eyes with his forearm.
“Wow, that was amazing, Nicolette,” he pants.
“Yeah,” I sigh, pushing to a seated position. “I’m just gonna use your bathroom to clean up.”
He uncovers his face and reaches down to remove his condom before holding it out to me. “Toss that while you’re in there, okay?”
“Um, yeah, sure,” I say, pinching it between my forefinger and thumb while I climb off the bed. Five minutes later, I emerge in my black cocktail dress, hands thoroughly washed.
Conrad sits up with the sheet pooled around his waist and confusion on his face. “Why did you get dressed? I don’t care if you sleep naked.” He shrugs. “I mean, if we were at my house,you’d have to get dressed and sneak out before six because that’s when Mama brings my breakfast. But we’re all alone.” He says that last part with what I assume he thinks is a sultry invitation.
Instead of being rude, I decide to fib. “Oh, I wish I could, but I have an early flight and still need to pack.”
“Can I have your number?” he blurts. “I know you live in New York, and I’ll be there next month.” His grin is wide and hopeful. “I’m staying at a hotel.”
I walk over and kiss his cheek, trying to soften the blow. “I’ve got a lot going on next month, but I enjoyed getting to know you, Conrad. You’re really sweet.”
And it’s true. Conrad is a sweet and smart man, but I don’t want to hook up with him again.
He gives me a boyish smile and blushes. “Okay, you can find me on social media if you change your mind. My last name is James.”
I turn to leave, tossing a wink over my shoulder. “Keep banging those headboards, Conrad James.” His laughter follows me out the door.
With the straps of my high heels looped over my index finger, I make my way down the carpeted corridor. I’m going to have to scrub the hell out of my feet when I get back to my room, but my arches ache too much to put my shoes back on.
Another woman approaches from the other direction, her stilettos also in her left hand. I recognize her from one of this morning’s seminars. We make eye contact, and her lips curve up in a chagrined smile of kinship.
“You doing the post-convention walk of shame too?”
I laugh and nod, stopping when I get even with her. “I guess so.” Holding out my right hand, I say, “I’m Nicolette Bell.”
The woman’s red lipstick is smudged a little when she smirks. “Like I don’t recognize you, Dr. Bell. Your lecture onbiomolecules in the cosmetics industry was amazing.” We shake. “I’m Shay Martin.”
“Thank you, and please call me Nicolette.” On a whim, I ask, “Hey, would you like to grab a drink down at the bar?”
Her expression brightens. “I’d love that, but do you care if I grab a pair of flats? My feet are killing me.”
“God, yes. In fact, I think I’ll put on some comfortable clothes too. I’m a few floors up.” I don’t mention I’m on the top floor. The conference put me up in the presidential suite since I was a featured speaker.
“Meet you at the entrance of the bar in ten,” Shay says, walking backward toward her room with a grin on her face.
I’m dressed in black yoga pants, a red tunic top that flutters around my hips, and my black HEYDUDES fitted comfortably on my freshly washed feet. Shay is dressed similarly in black leggings and a green V-neck top that looks amazing with her strawberry blonde hair.
“I was excited to be accepted into the Academy this year,” Shay says as the waiter drops off our lemon drop martinis. “I just graduated from pharmacy school two years ago.”
“Where did you get your degree?” I ask.
“University of Houston.” Her face pinkens a little. “I know it’s not like Harvard or Duke, where you went.”
Reaching across the table, I pat her hand. “Hey, you got your doctorate, and that’s all that matters. I love seeing more and more women in the science fields.” I take a sip of my drink and watch as Shay visibly relaxes, her shoulders inching down.
“I was glad to get in at U of H because I grew up in Houston. My mom has diabetes and isn’t the best at taking care of herself, so it was nice to be close to her.”
I chuckle. “I was the opposite. I was accepted at Columbia and Princeton for undergrad, but those were way too close to my family in Jersey, so I decided on Harvard. And to broaden my horizons a bit, I got completely out of the Northeast for my postgrad degrees. I actually enjoyed Duke. North Carolina is a beautiful state.”
Shay’s brown eyes are sympathetic. “Don’t get along with your parents?”
