Page 86 of Is This for Real?
But Ireallydon’t want to talk to Myrtle and Bernie right now.
Rory whispers “sorry” in my ear and kisses my neck just under my ear. It tickles and makes me shiver.We’re still on.
We sit down at the hotel bar, which is all gold and black with very dim lighting. Myrtle says they just came back from a dance performance. I take off my coat and hang it on the back of the chair. I let Rory take the lead in case he doesn’t want to say he was out with me as opposed to working.
“We just came back from Secret CinemaCasablanca,” Rory says.
Myrtle leans forward. “What was that like?”
I describe it in detail. Rory puts his arm around me. His fingers are tracing patterns on my arm, leaving flickers of flame. But I am so wound up, I can’t concentrate on the conversation. I put my hand on his knee and trace circles, and then I move slightly up his leg, feeling his tight muscle. He shifts in his chair. What is Myrtle saying? I remove my hand. She’s talking about the dance performance. I nod.Focus on her.Rory’s hand is going up and down my side tentatively, teasing, tantalizing, just brushing the underwire of my bra.
Bernie interrupts Myrtle to talk about the campaign. Rory removes his hand. If I were mean, I’d put my hand back on his thigh, but I’m not. I sip my drink. Rory responds, and they have some lengthy technical discussion about ROI and various advertising terms. I should have just made Rory talk about ROI out on Fire Island when I wanted to get over him.
Myrtle turns to me and says, “You really like to keep an eye on him, don’t you?”
I sit back. “Well, he is easy on the eyes.” I sound like some cowgirl.
Myrtle nods. “I have to watch my husband like a hawk.”
I hope I don’t have to watch Rory like a hawk. It seems her husband should be watching her, but the insides of relationships are mysterious and not for me to comment upon.
Myrtle continues, “Keep him on his toes.”
Maybe her whole approach to Rory was to keep Bernie on his toes, but I don’t think she should put Rory in that position.
Rory finishes his drink and says that we have to go. He has to get an early start tomorrow on the post-production. Bernie says they will come with us. We all crowd into the small elevator. It’s packed.
It stops on every floor. I am pressed up against Rory. Second floor. Third floor. Rory’s hands are on my waist. I can’t wait.
Finally, the elevator door opens to our floor, and we say our goodbyes.
We race to the room. He closes the door behind him and kisses me hungrily. He tastes of chocolate and red wine. We are leaning against the door, pressed tightly together. His kiss is no longer tentative. It’s sure. I kiss him back. With everything I have.Everything I have never said.
I throw my coat off to the side, not stopping the kiss, holding on to him with one hand.
Rory tosses his coat onto the chair, and we both scramble to remove our shoes. And then I am back in his arms, lost in his kiss.
We move backward toward the bed, until the backs of my knees hit the frame and we both fall down on the comforter, Mr. Pillow underneath me.
“I think we can get rid of this,” he says, pushing the roller pillow to the floor.
“Yes.”
Our glances meet, and he gives me that half-smile. There is no one for me but Rory. His face is so dear to me that I can see him even as I close my eyes. I run my hands through his hair, his lips firm against mine.
And then we’re unbuttoning each other’s clothes. Or trying.
“How many buttons does this jacket have?” he asks.
It’s my 1940s jacket. Eight buttons. My 1940s blouse underneath, with eyelets, is even worse.
I pull his shirt over his head.All mine.I run my hands over his chest and the fine brown hair that tapers to his waist.Smooth skin.He takes a raspy breath.I look up.
“Are you going to give me a little help here?” he asks. He’s unbuttoned my jacket. I shimmy out of my jacket.
“What is that?” He has just seen the eyelets. “How many buttons are there?” He counts. “So basically, you weren’t planning to seduce me tonight?”
“I was planning to seduce you, but not in this. I brought lingerie. And condoms.”
