Page 7 of Scandalously Yours

“You could tempt the devil, Ale,” I warned, “and I’ve never once been considered a saint.”

My mouth came crashing down on hers right after. Those full lips of hers parted even more as I traced her mouth with my tongue before plunging it inside. She offered no resistance, and when I covered her upper body with mine, she wrapped her arms around me. Her nails dug into my back, and I growled, especially when she dragged them down my spine. My own hands weren’t idle as I brought them to her breasts, my thumbs rubbing the hard peaks I’d just been staring at minutes before.

I worked one of my hands under her bra and she moaned so beautifully against my lips. Our tongues tangled with one another in a perfectly synchronized dance which felt so natural. I’d thought about taking another woman after my separation but had never seriously considered it until now. I was married, but I wasn’t. And neither of those things mattered. I was essentially her boss, and as that realization hit me, I forced myself to pull away.

I looked down into her confused eyes, then cradled her face between my hands. “This is highly inappropriate of me, Ale.”

I couldn’t believe I had become that guy. I’d spent my entire sexual life never caring about right or wrong. I’d been with more women than I could count, but once I got with Hayley, that all changed. In the beginning, our sex life was great. She was very adventurous, and I did everything over the years to make her happy, both in and out of the bedroom. I doted on her... celebrated every success with her... gave her children, but in the end, it hadn’t been enough. The last two years of our marriage was spent fighting more than making love. The few times we’d fucked, it’d been hollow at best. The sparks... the chemistry... Whatever we had; it was gone.

And now, I was staring down into the face of a woman who sent my pulse racing and cursing the conscience that decided to suddenly appear. I tried to tell myself I was doing the right thing because another few minutes and I would’ve been inside of her. It wouldn’t even matter if it was my fingers, tongue, or cock. I’d fuck her right on the sand in the dark of night.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” she quickly replied, then pushed at my chest. I rocked back onto my heels and allowed her to scramble to feet. “I’ve never done anything like this before. It’s—”

I rose to my own feet and cut her off mid-sentence. “It was very inappropriate of me. I apologize.”

She scrubbed her hands down her face, then hurried back to where she left her clothes. By the time she had put her shirt and pants back on, I had made it over to her. “Would a drink at the hotel bar be out of the question?”

The last thing I needed to do was mix alcohol with my lack of self control, but I didn’t want this night to end just because it wouldn’t the way I wanted it to. She seemed to hesitate, then gave me a curt nod. I cradled her hand once again which was chilled from the water, and tried to infuse warmth into it as I clasped it between mine.

“We should get back,” she finally told me, and I nodded.

We walked the same way we came, and I was glad to see others all seated at the bar. Being alone with her might be exactly what I wanted, but it wasn’t the smartest thing in the world. I guided her to the bar, and we took our seats on the stools. To the common eye, we were just two acquaintances enjoying a drink after a quick swim in the sea. Nobody would know how perilously close I was to fucking her on the sand, and I intended to keep it that way. Others at the hospital were standing in the shadows just waiting on something to discredit me so I would lose my position. I wasn’t going to make it that easy for them. After all, I was fighting my ex tooth and nail, and at one point I had truly loved her, or at least the façade she allowed me to see.

“Ahh, what do you want to drink?” Ale touched my arm to get my attention and I realized the bartender was waiting on a response.

“Scotch, three fingers.” I then looked at Ale who had what looked like a glass of water with a lemon wedge on the side. “You’re not having a drink?”

She smiled. “Sadly, no. I have a love and hate relationship with alcohol. I...” She had appeared to be ready to elaborate until the bartender returned with my drink. As quickly as that happened, she shifted topics of conversations. “What’s your favorite color?”

I blinked, wondering if I had heard her question correctly and remembering our earlier conversation, I grinned. “Would you believe me if I said it was green?”

She let out a giggle, and I liked the sound of it. I also enjoyed the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed. In the moonlight, she had been beautiful enough, but in the lighting of the outside bar, she was stunningly gorgeous. Her hair was wet and plastered against her face, so I couldn’t see the exact shade, but her skin was kissed by the sun, the light bronzed hue causing her to glow. Her full lips were ones that begged to be kissed, and remembering how she tasted, I wanted to lean back in and get another, but I showed some restraint.

Her cheekbones were sharp and high, and drew my attention to wide, expressive eyes which were like windows to her soul. I could see the hint of innocence I detected earlier clearly reflected in those chocolate pools. She wrinkled her nose at my answer, but even that did little to mar her classic beauty.

“No way,” she said, her answer much like that one from earlier.

“You’re very unbelieving,” I pointed out, before sipping on the Glenfiddich placed down in front of me. “We’re going to need to work on that.”

Her face grew solemn, and she gave me a nod. “You’re right, so I need to be honest with you.”

My brow arched as my curiosity was piqued. “About?”

“I would actually like a glass of wine.”

I snapped my fingers and summoned the bartender over, and a minute later, a glass was placed down in front of her. “What changed your mind?”

“I...” She paused to take a sip of the Moscato, then set it back down. “I suffer from terrible insomnia and during times when it’s bad, I like a glass of wine because it tends to settle me. I wasn’t lying about the love/hate relationship I mentioned earlier, though. It often relaxes me too much, so I will need to head to my room right after finishing this.”

So, she was a lightweight. I liked that trait. Hayley could practically outdrink me, and on some occasions, she had. I finished my Scotch and watched as she slowly drank her wine. “We don’t have much time, so what else do you want to know about me?”

She placed her finger on her lips as she contemplated, then spoke, “Whatever you would like to share with me.”

I grinned. She didn’t need to hear all of it though, so I tried to think of basic things. “Well, I’m from Texas, but I’ll never be confused with a cowboy. I moved to California for college and went to Stanford before moving east to get my master’s degree at Yale. I have a lot of family here in New York, so while I was born and raised in Houston, I spent many summers and more there. After college, I moved to the city full time and began work at NYU where I’ve been until a few months ago when I accepted the chief position at Presby.” She seemed to be digesting everything I said, and I could tell she still had more questions. “What else do you want to know?”

She shook her head while smiling ruefully. “No, it’s really none of my business. I think the wine is already starting to affect me. I need to go.”

She stood up abruptly, and I went to do the same until she placed her hand on my shoulder. “I’ll walk you to your room,” I offered but she shook her head.

“I appreciate that, but I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure...” I answered, then added, “I’m in room 515. Please call and leave a message to let me know you made it to yours safely.”

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