Page 3 of Aron
Dr. Aron will be standing up in front of a room full of his peers. no doubt totally smashing his speech and becoming a famous and well-respected doctor in a newly emerging field. The kind of guy they get on news shows to give his opinion on the state of society today. He definitely has the looks to be on TV.
“I better be going back to my room now,” I say, standing up. “Hopefully the AC is working now.”
He hands me back my sketchbook. At first, it felt super weird having him look through all the drawings I’d done of him. Like someone was reading my diary. An intimate tingle had started in my scalp and radiated down through my arms. I’d watched him as he’d flicked through page after page. All the while, we were talking about mundane things. Our everyday lives. him telling me what it was like to be a doctor. Me telling him about my mom and her corns and the silly little dog she has that always yaps and runs around like crazy and lays on the floor with big doleful eyes every time he thinks you’re going to feed him.
“How about I walk you back to your room?” he says. “I’d hate for you not to get home safe.”
“I don’t think there’s anything to worry about,” I laugh. “Not in a hotel like this.”
“Still,” he stands up and offers me his arm. I loop my hand through his elbow. Our bodies brush against each other. My hip, his leg. I look up into his eyes and stare at his lips. “It would be my pleasure to keep you company on your long, arduous journey back to your room.”
“How can a lady refuse an offer like that?”
“They can’t,” he says, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “And that was exactly the point.”
We walk to the elevator in silence. My heart’s beating so fast I’m surprised he can’t hear it.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Like a bass drum at an illegal house rave in the middle of a Mexican jungle.
“Ladies first,” he says as the elevator doors ping open.
I walk ahead, swinging my hips outrageously. “Thank you, Dr. Aron.”
“You’re welcome, Willa,” he says, standing next to me.
He has to lean across my body to press the button that takes me to my floor. His arm brushes against my breast slightly. I take a deep and sudden breath. He looks at me in the mirror on the wall. He’s so frigging dark and handsome. And here I am, wearing nothing but a robe and my underwear. And all he’s wearing is a robe and a swimming suit! I’m practically naked in an elevator with a man that looks like he could stand-in for a movie star and He’s looking at me with his dark, blue eyes and his perfectly formed face, and my eggs are doing summersaults in my belly and my pussy is so wet I could probably start bottling it by the gallon.
I’m just about to say something when the doors ping open. We’re on my floor. I can feel the moment we’re going to part getting closer and closer and my body’s screaming at me to not let it happen, but I can’t think of anything to do.
Instead, I walk to my door in a dream state. He stands behind me. The heat from his body is almost tangible. I want to lean back and press myself against him. To melt against his chest and look up and then feel his lips as he kisses me.
“I’ve had a really swell time,” I say.
Swell?! What the heck am I talking about? Is this the nineteen fifties or something? Have I traveled back through time and found myself on the set of The Brady Bunch?
“It’s a shame it has to end.”
“It doesn’t have to end.”
I don’t feel confident. I feel half scared to death. but, if I’m going to make my move, then this might be the only chance I get.
And, yes, I’ll be flying off home later today. And we’ll be going back to our separate, distant lives. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have a bit of fun.
Don’t I deserve to enjoy myself from time to time?
“Would you like to come in?” I ask.
“For a cup of coffee?” he smiles.
“No,” I take hold of his robe and pull him to me. He cups the back of my head with his hand. “I mean, you can drink coffee if you like. I’m sure there’s some in my room. But that’s not why I’m inviting you in.”
“Are you saying what I hope you’re saying?”
“I’m saying I want you to come in my room, and take off that skimpy little swimming suit, and I want you to fuck me. Over and over again, until my whole body’s trembling like the string on a big, curvy banjo. You think you can do that, Dr. Aron?”
“Yes.” He lowers his face until our lips are nearly touching. His right-hand takes ahold of my right hip. He pulls me close, grinding his erection into my flesh. “Yes,” he says again, “There’s nothing I’d like more in the whole fucking world than to make love to you right now.”
