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I could hear Ruel’s shower running through my room’s bathroom wall. The hotel’s age really showed in its plumbing. The ancient pipes creaked and groaned as the water pushed through to his shower head. As I brushed my teeth, I let my mind get carried away revisiting how he had looked without his shirt on. His skin was so much darker than I’d expected. A deep olive, almost Greek or Turkish, stretched tautly around his muscles. His muscles were impressive, sumptuous even, quite the way Maria had joked about them earlier. I wanted to touch them again, to stroke them slowly and methodically. I yearned to taste his skin and feel its texture on my tongue. Salty and smooth.
I deeply inhaled the scent of my left hand’s fingers. They smelled of body oil mixed with expensive hair gel. I rubbed them against my face, staring at myself in the mirror, stroking first my cheekbone then down to my jaw line. I couldn’t stop. I closed my eyes imagining his touch. I continued down under my chin tracing my throat to my clavicle and on to my sternum, which was exposed in my low cut gown. I opened my eyes and focused on my retracting pupils in the reflection. There was no longer any doubt in my mind, I had to have him tonight.
At that exact moment, his plumbing shut off. I held my breath and blushed slightly, wondering if he could hear me. I could hear him fumbling about, most likely grabbing a towel. My mind raced with this image. I put my hand on the wall between us hoping to feel his energy rush into my body. I knew I was being stupid, adolescent even. One voice in my head said to stop, but another urged me on. They nagged and pleaded both ways, but when I saw my smirk in the mirror, I knew I would be at his door in mere moments.
The thought process that caused me to initially leave his room crept back, trying to combat my lust. Even if I had sex with him, there was no meaning in it. My mind wandered back to that moment on my stoop back in Florida. It seemed so long ago, though it was only a couple of weeks. Ruel had told me he trusted me, more than anyone else. He had seemed so genuine at the time. Surely it was only part of his entire ploy. But ploy for what—to get me to Russia? What significance did that hold?
Then it came to me, the weapon! Of course! Maria, Andrew, and I were the only three who knew anything about how it worked, and we were dropped directly into the lair of the Russian government. All the while having a Russian spy wrapping us around his gorgeous finger. I must be the main target.
I needed to warn Maria and Andrew. We had to leave the country as soon as possible. I screamed inside my head to make the phone calls, or better yet, just to go to their rooms. I could slip out without a sound. Ruel would never know, never suspect a thing. I was just a stupid girl who had become obsessed with him. Certainly he expected me to go back to his room tonight.
Yet, the capture could have easily happened already, so what was he waiting for? There was something else, something hidden. The pained eyes he’d shown at Mt. Dora, and again on my stoop, that indicated he wanted to let me in, but just couldn’t. That had to mean something. My intuition said he was safe. The pull to him was simply too great. I slipped out of my room, but instead of turning right towards the elevator to flee, I turned left towards his door.
I felt ridiculous standing in the hallway. I took a deep breath and tried to calm my nerves, but instead achieved the opposite effect. The butterflies moved downward with my breath, seeping flutters from my lungs, to the pit of my stomach, and even a bit farther down than that. I squeezed my eyes shut, counted to five, and knocked lightly on the door. A few moments passed and there was no response, so I rapped lightly again. His voice came quickly through the door this time. “Hello? Emma?”
That tingly feeling rushed throughout me again. “Yes, it’s me.”
“Hi.” Ruel said, after opening the door.
“Hi.” I exhaled.
He was wearing a tight heather gray t-shirt and cotton drawstring pajama pants that made him appear innocent, yet stunning. He leaned out into the hallway a bit, his eyes flickering left and right. He looked back at me brightly and gave me a very pleased smile. “Come in.”
Ruel moved slightly behind the door so that I could squeeze past into the vestibule leading to the main room. The bathroom door was ajar, and the steam from his shower leaked out, pleasantly warming my face as I passed. I stopped in front of the first bed and glanced over the room noticing slight changes since I’d last been there. His dress clothes were neatly laid on the bed over his jacket, and his suitcase sat open with clothes spilling out as though he had been rummaging through for something particular.
I closed my eyes softly and swallowed when I heard the door shut. I could feel his presence as he approached me from behind. He put his hands on my bare shoulders, but I didn’t turn to look. Ruel leaned down and kissed me slowly on the neck, which sent shivers down the left side of my body.
“I’m really glad you came back,” he whispered in my ear.
“I couldn’t stay away,” I murmured, flushing.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” he said, and kissed the other side of my neck. His right hand moved slowly forward, down my shoulder, over my collarbone, and down to my sternum, intentionally avoiding my breasts. He dropped his left arm around my waist and pulled our bodies tightly together. I gasped at his strength. The ripples of his chest and torso pressed into my exposed back through his tight shirt. Ruel breathed in deeply, as if taking in the mixture of our scents before speaking again. “Of course, now that I have you here, I’m going to take my time with you.”
Those simple words dissolved any concerns I had about coming back.
“Oh?” I replied nonchalantly, gaining back any confidence I might have left in the hallway when I crossed over the threshold to his room. “Then it’s a good thing that the nights here are rather long this time of year.”
He let out an impish chuckle as he released me from his grasp. His soft, dry lips traced down my spine, continuing over the silky fabric that clung to my body until he was kneeling on the floor behind me. I felt him grip my ankles and move his hands up my legs, keeping a steady pressure until he reached the waistband of my thong. He tugged at it lightly, slid it to the ground, and picked up my feet, one at a time, to take it off completely. His lips took the same route upwards and he lifted the skirt of my dress as he ascended. He paused where my thong had been and moved his tongue slowly from front to back. I whimpered quietly, and I could feel him chuckle again. He continued upwards, lifting my dress until it was over my head and off. He dropped it into a pile on the ground.
I shivered while standing there in nothing but heels. He wasn’t touching me at that moment, but he said softly and earnestly, “You’re so beautiful.”
He embraced me tightly from behind. I gasped. He was completely naked. When had he undressed? Was it just then? It must have been, there was no other logical time.
“Surprised?” he asked. I could tell he was smirking. I turned my head upwards towards him and met his lips full on. This kiss made the night’s earlier kisses seem juvenile. I turned around to face him without moving from his lips and we continued, grabbing at each other’s curves and muscles.
“Perhaps we should go to the bed?” I suggested, pulling away to breathe.
He frowned. “Perhaps we shouldn’t. I’m rather enjoying seeing you standing there in those heels.”
I smiled and walked to the wall. I leaned forward against my arms and parted my legs just past shoulder width. “Is this still considered standing?” I called at him over my shoulder.
“Quite,” he said, and was instantly behind me again.
He grasped my hips firmly and slid himself inside of me.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he murmured, and I could feel the heat of him blushing against my own cheek.
“You have no idea,” I replied. He breathed a single laugh and began to form a rhythm. We didn’t speak again until my body began to quiver.
“No, not yet,” he said, pulling away. I wanted to drag him back to me, but he was gently pulling my arm and leading me to the far bed.
I slipped off my heels and we lay down on top of the white sheets. He pulled me to him and kissed me until we were fiercely entangled again. The night continued this way until he held me in his arms, our bodies spent, satisfied.
After a while, Ruel’s breathing evened out and I thought that he might be about to fall asleep, but he spoke softly.
“Emma,” he said, and inhaled a slow, deep breath.
My heart skipped a beat hearing him say my name. “Yes?”
His breath came out choppy when he released it. It sounded like he was nervous, which was odd. I couldn’t imagine what would ever make him nervous, let alone what might be making him nervous right now.
“I, um, I…” he began. “No, never mind. It’s ridiculous.”
I frowned. “What?”
“No, it’ll freak you out,” he said, looking up at the ceiling. “It’s better to just leave it like this.”
He sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees, pulling them to his chest. His spine rose out of the curvature of his back in deep olive brown colored ridges.
“Ruel?” I asked quietly.
“I’m thinking,” he replied softly.
“Okay.” It didn’t sound like he wanted to discuss his thoughts, so I just waited for him to lie back down. He didn’t. I glanced at his travel clock glowing a bluish hue beside the hotel phone. 4:17. I sighed and closed my eyes letting my head and neck relax against the pillow.
Finally, at 4:22, he spoke. “I want to explain it first. I think that you will find it less, uh, abrupt that way.”
“Um, okay.” I briefly wondered why he was being so cryptic, then realized he may be about to tell me he was a spy.
“Now that this has happened,” he said, waving his hand in the air to motion at what I assumed to be the sex we had just had. “Now that we’ve, well, done this, I feel compelled to be honest with you.”
Compelled. I mulled the word over.
“Hm, where to start, where to start . . .” he murmured to himself. “Okay, do you remember that day when I walked you out during that tropical storm?”
“When you had a sprained ankle?” I replied. Of course I remembered that day. It was mid-September, and the wind was ferocious, blowing the rain in every direction and quickly soaking my clothes. He had to stay late at work, so he only walked me to end of the awning and not all the way to my car. I lingered at the edge, facing him with the rain beating against my back. I hadn’t wanted the moment to end. We were so alone. “Well,” he said, smiling down at me, “this is where we part.” I replied “Indeed.” Then he touched my arm just below the shoulder and said, “Take extra care this weekend, I hear it’s going to be quite the squall.” His hand was still on my arm and he stroked it slightly. I hadn’t been able to breathe, so I just nodded hoping that I had managed a somewhat attractive smile.
“Right, when I had a sprained ankle.” Ruel said now, still facing away from me on the bed. “That was the day that it happened.”
“That what happened?” I asked.
“That I decided to stop pretending I didn’t feel the way that I did about you. Up until then, I’d been trying to ignore it, to compartmentalize it, since…” he trailed off, then quickly recovered saying, “…since you had mentioned once that you don’t date coworkers. You were so beautiful that day, though, with your hair whipping around in the wind. I couldn’t help myself; I had to touch you. So, I held your arm, do you remember?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“When you didn’t pull away, and you looked like you couldn’t breathe,” he chuckled, his back shaking lightly as he did, “I thought that maybe, in spite of it all, maybe we could be together. So, I let myself fall into an obsessive infatuation with you, into this all-consuming fantasy that I’d been pushing away. Our email exchanges didn’t help things. I couldn’t tell if you were just playing around or if…” He trailed off again and craned his neck to the right to look back at me. “Or if you truly felt that way for me.”
I stared incredulously at him. Of course I feel that way. I still couldn’t decide if what he was saying was earnest or if he was playing the role he’d been assigned. My stomach began to tie into hundreds of small knots of worried anticipation. The anxiety must have shown on my face, because Ruel laughed humorlessly and turned his head away from me again.
“Told you you’d freak out,” he mumbled.
“I’m not freaked out,” I said. Deep down, I wasn’t worried at all. I couldn’t figure that out. I should be fleeing for my life—literally. But that familiarity of Ruel lingered. That feeling like we’d met before, like something deeper tied us together. As if we were pulled together for a reason, compelled towards each other for another purpose. How could he feel the same way for me, though? It just wasn’t possible. He was a spy, and this was all an act.
“Right,” he said. I could see the right side of his mouth curve down briefly into a frown. He sighed loudly then spoke rather quickly. “Well, as long as I’m making a complete fool of myself, I might as well tell you everything, huh?” He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head quickly, as if trying to block something out. I didn’t reply and watched him in disbelief. Was he actually about to tell me he was a spy? The adage I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you ran through my mind. I glanced at the door, aware of how far away it was. Both the regular lock and the deadbolt were in place. I couldn’t outrun Ruel in here. I was trapped. The knots in my stomach were growing to a feeling of nausea. In the old days, the Ronaldo days, I never would have cornered myself like this. In fact, I was always the one doing the cornering.
Ruel continued. “So, I can’t wane this infatuation. You really haven’t helped things, either. Like I said, the Norway emails, they just, well, they’re so intimate. And you haven’t had a boyfriend since we’ve met, in fact, you never even mention other guys. I know I’m over-analyzing, but the way you look at me on Fridays, you always look so sad when you get into your car. You look the way I feel, like us parting is this unbearable event that repeats itself every week. So, I kept feeling encouraged, telling myself that seeing your face in my head every night was acceptable. What I’m trying to say, what I feel so compelled to tell you…” he trailed off again. I held my breath. What the hell was he talking about? After that build up, the words I’m a Russian spy didn’t seem likely to follow. He let out an exasperated sigh and spoke sharply to himself, “God, Ruel, you’re forty-three, just say it.” His nostrils flared and he turned his whole body around to face me. I quickly propped my back up against the solid oak headboard. He put his left hand on my right thigh, showering my legs with the heat emanating from his body. His eyes were shadowed in the dim light, but I could feel their penetrating gaze into my own. He bit his lip and flared his nostrils again. His smooth, broad chest rose and fell slowly and then, in a calm, even voice, he said, “I love you.”
I felt my jaw drop, and then my stomach lurched. I threw my hand over my mouth and scrambled out from under him bolting for the bathroom. I leaned over the seatless toilet and spit out the bile that had already made its way up. What was this? Oh, Emma, I love you, so I have to kill you. I reeled. More vomit came up. How could I have never noticed how sadistic he was?
Ruel rushed into the bathroom. He tore off the plastic wrapping from one of the water glasses and quickly filled it at the faucet.
“Here,” he said, thrusting the glass at me. I drank the freezing water in one gulp. It came back up almost immediately. He took the glass out of my hand and refilled it, handing it back to me. I drank slower that time, and it seemed to do the trick. My initial impulse to hold in the vomit on the run to the bathroom had caused some to seep into my nostrils, and the hand that I clapped over my mouth was covered in it. It was not an ideal way for him to see me, naked and dripping in vomit. Lovely.
I needed the sink, but he was standing in front of it. “Move,” I said, forcefully. He obeyed. I used my clean hand to turn on the handle and quickly stuck the other hand under the water. My face was burning in a mixture of my fury and embarrassment. The word “vulnerable” hardly described how I felt. I didn’t dare look in the mirror, I had no desire to see how awful I looked. “Can you please leave?” I asked Ruel. If he wasn’t there to see me in my current state, it would improve the situation greatly. He disappeared at the words.
I splashed water onto my face, concentrating on my nose and mouth. I lathered up the hand soap onto my face and rinsed it away. The towel I grabbed was still wet from when Ruel had showered earlier and it smelled strongly of his body. I buried my face into it, breathing deeply until all I could smell was the cotton. I moved my nose to another segment of the towel and breathed in his scent again. As I covered the surface area of the towel, my head filled with oxygen, calming my body and mind.
Surely this wasn’t part of the role he had to play for his cover. It was, in fact, a cruel joke. I could deal with that. I hadn’t mentioned anything to him about how I felt, how truly obsessed I was with him. How my weekends dragged, and my favorite day of the week was Monday because it meant I would see him for five straight days. I could just march back in there and play the whole thing off casually, pretend that all I wanted was the sex, and then go back to my own hotel room. Go back to my own hotel room and cry. I would cry, sob. The whole situation was unfair, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of telling him that I loved him, because I wouldn’t be lying when I said it. What are you talking about? You should flee to your hotel room, grab clothes, and get out of Russia.
I finished drying my face and, with great hesitation, looked at my reflection in the mirror. It wasn’t that bad. My complexion was pallid with some red on my nose and mouth. I mostly looked like someone who had thrown up. My mind worked up a script to deliver once I walked out of the bathroom. I’d say that it must be food poisoning from the undercooked rabbit at dinner. Not my disgust at his cruel joke. I flashed myself a grimaced smile, took a deep breath, and walked into the room.
The bedside lamps were on. He was standing at the window. The curtains were still drawn, and he was looking out over the city. Our rooms’ views were not that spectacular, no major landmarks. His right arm supported his weight against the glass and his left hand was on the waistline of his pajama pants that he had put back on. His left foot was hooked behind his right one with his toes flexed against the floor. He had such cute feet. Cute everything. I rolled my eyes at myself and shook my head.
“Sorry about that,” I said, and forced a laugh.
He immediately turned from the skyline to me. In the lamps’ light, I could see concern brimming in his eyes, and my thoughts began to waver. Was he actually being honest with me? Did he really love me? I strangled the doubt and kept composure. He was in front of me so quickly that the fog his arm had left on the windowpane was still disappearing into the black Russian sky.
“Are you feeling any better?” he asked. His voice was thick, and his eyes flickered back and forth between my own.
“Much,” I said, and nodded. “I think it was the rabbit from tonight.”
“Oh,” he said, frowning.
I smiled at him briefly and walked over to the window. I crossed my arms to cover my nipples, which were so hard they hurt. The room seemed much colder now, even though I was standing next to the radiator. Ruel followed me and put his right arm around my shoulder. It was still cold from when he’d had it on the window. I shivered.
“I’ll get you the blanket,” he said, and rubbed my arm to create some friction heat before walking over to the unmade bed. I swallowed hard and turned around.
“Actually, I think I’m going to go back to my room,” I said. He spun around to face me.
“What?” he said. His eyes searched mine. I didn’t know what they would find.
“Yeah, I had a good time, but I think it’s what we’d both prefer,” I said casually, and walked over to the bed where he had laid my dress out. I began to pick it up, but he put his hand on my forearm.
“No, please,” he said, staring into my eyes. The moment was so intense, I wanted desperately to look away, but I couldn’t. “Please stay.”
Our eyes were interlocked for a long minute, his hand still rested on my forearm. I became dizzy, off-balanced. I was gravitating towards him, and my lips were suddenly on his. The kiss was soft, and its tranquility caused my head to stop spinning. My thoughts became lucid again, and I tore myself from him and backed away. He dropped my arm. I heard my breath coming out hard and uneven, as though I might start crying. No lump came to my throat, but words pushed their way up instead.
“I know what you’re doing,” I told him, thoroughly impressed with my cool tone.
“Doing?” he asked with confused eyes. His brow furrowed and his mouth hung slightly open.
“Yes, this joke you’re playing. It’s not that funny, honestly. You really shouldn’t play with a woman’s emotions, we’re not very forgiving creatures.”
“I really don’t understand what you’re saying right now.”
I scoffed. His acting was still rather convincing, the Russians had trained him well.
“No, really, what are you talking about?” he continued. “What joke?”
“You telling me that you love me is quite obviously a joke.”
“A joke? You really think this is a joke? That I’m that sadistic?”
I looked at him coldly and shrugged.
He shook his head and said, “That doesn’t matter. I’m not joking. This isn’t a joke, Emma. I love you.”
I cocked my head to the left, pressing my lips into a hard line and raising my eyebrows. I crossed my arms, wishing I was wearing a shirt. Even though his eyes were fixed on my face, my nudity seemed to be an unfair disadvantage.
“Emma, please, listen to me,” he said with a soft voice. His eyes scanned my body quickly. “Let me get you something to wear, and then we can sit down and talk about this. Is that okay?”
He waited for me to nod before going over to his suitcase. He produced a faded black t-shirt with Princeton written on it in peeling orange letters and a pair of blue boxers with tiny polar bears on them.
“Is this okay?” he asked, handing me the clothes.
“Yes,” I said, and pulled them on. They were soft, especially the shirt. It must have been fairly old. It hung a bit, but Ruel wore tight-fitting clothes, so it wasn’t too bad. I instantly felt somewhat better. He walked over to the two armchairs in the tiny sitting area of the room. I followed and he waited for me to sit before taking his own seat.
“So,” he started, “you think I am joking about how I feel, right?”
“Yes,” I said shortly.
“Why?”
Despite how obvious the question was, I was taken aback. I couldn’t say the truth. There was no point in voluntarily revealing that I knew he was a spy. No point in putting myself in more danger. I decided to reply with my pre-spy feelings on the matter. “Because, because you always joke. We always joke. It’s just what we do. We have this contemptuous flirtation. We always have, but that’s where it stops.”
“But, we made love tonight, what does that mean? How does that fit into things stopping at flirtation?”
“Made love? That’s the first time I’ve been made love to from behind on a second date, if you even can call it a date,” I said in my Ruel voice.
“Apparently no else has truly cared about all of your needs,” he said with his impish grin.
“That! Right there! That grin, that tone!” I exclaimed, pointing at him, “That’s the contemptuous flirting.”
He rolled his eyes and evened out his voice. “I’m aware of our flirting, Emma. Of your acerbic tones and my caustic responses. I’m well aware. What I’m not aware of, what I cannot understand, is why you are not making the correlation between that flirting and how I truly feel about you. How I’d hoped that you felt about me and, in a few capacities, still think you might.”
I sucked in air.
“I just can’t believe that you could love me, honestly,” I said. “What is there to go on? Other than our one dinner date, we’ve never hung out outside of work. Even now, this is technically work. How on earth could you have developed such emotions for me?” I knew how he could have done so, since I had developed them for him.
“I’ve explained how. Remember that nervous fumbling speech I gave on the bed fifteen minutes ago? And for the record, we have hung out outside of work other than our dinner date. I went to that one end-of-the-year happy hour thing in December just to see you. You know how much I hate happy hours, but you were going, and I wanted to be somewhat alone with you. It was a serious internal struggle not to kiss you when I walked you to your car.”
I remembered that moment vividly. The sky was clear and there was a slight breeze. Ruel had lingered at my car after having said goodnight twice. He looked pained, and I asked him how he was feeling. “Conflicted,” he mumbled, then stroked my waist up and down once to just below my hipbone. He pulled me towards him, and I seriously thought he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. He held me close and then abruptly announced that he had to go. I stood there, confused, watching him walk away at a rapid pace.
I wondered now what made him follow through tonight, but not then. What had changed? Had our odd date actually made a difference, or was it just because we were in a foreign place and the moment was fleeting? Even if that were the case, wouldn’t it still stand to reason he felt something for me now, something that compelled him to follow through? Something that compelled him to be honest with me, as he had said on the bed earlier.
“Emma?”
“I’m thinking,” I quickly replied. He leaned back into the chair placing his hands in his lap and interlacing his fingers.
He was being honest with me. I was being an idiot. Spy or no spy, this was real. Perhaps the most real he had been in years.
I looked at him. He was looking at me with wide eyes. I smiled at him. He smiled back.
“You do love me,” I told him.
“Yeah,” he grinned widely, “I do.”
“But, I love you, too,” I blurted out before realizing what I said. My voice sounded so simple, as though the past seventeen minutes of my stupidity didn’t exist.
He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, and reached his hand out to take mine. His skin was warm, dry, and it seared against my freezing fingers. It felt wonderful.
“So, you’re not going to make a mad dash to the bathroom again, right?”
I blushed and shook my head.
“Okay,” he said and bent his head down to kiss the back of my hand. He looked up and into my eyes. My body felt suspended in midair. “I love you, Emma.”
“I love you, Ruel,” I exhaled. The butterflies flowed through my veins to every part of my body.
He leaned over the arm of the chair and kissed me, holding my face in his hands. I put my arms around his neck, running my hands through his coarse hair. Suddenly, he was lifting me out of the chair and carrying me to the bed. He placed me down where I had been lying before.
“Oh!” he exclaimed as I reached down for the covers.
“Oh?” I raised my eyebrows at him.
“I almost forgot. I got you something,” he said, then turned around to his suitcase on the other bed. He quickly retrieved a small box and turned back around to face me. “You might think it’s stupid. Hopefully not, but we’ll see. I got it in Norway.”
“Well, that’s a good start,” I laughed. He handed me the box. I started to open it, but then looked up at him. “Thank you.”
“Open it,” he said and flared his nostrils once.
I pulled off the top of the box and a silver pendant shined brilliantly. It was roughly the shape of the letter “T” and had a blue gemstone at each tip. It was a design I knew, something Ruel and I discussed quite often, including on the drive to Mt. Dora. It seemed odd that he would give me this particular symbol. I looked up to meet his eyes.
“It’s—” he began.
“—Thor’s hammer,” I finished.
“Right.” He smiled.
“But, I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head. “You feel Mjölnir is the symbol for protection. What do I need protection from?”
“Well,” Ruel frowned. His eyes flickered left to right.
I realized that I just set him up to reveal that I was in imminent danger.
“You know, in case I’m—” he paused abruptly and then finished quickly. “Just in case.”
“I see,” I said, mulling his reaction over in my mind. It seemed best to leave it where it was, and I really liked the necklace, which my response probably hadn’t portrayed very well. I smiled brightly at him. “I really love it.”
He lit up. “Good! Can I put it on you?”
“Yes, please.” I stood up and handed him the box.
“It’s platinum,” Ruel said. I turned away from him and nodded. As he draped the chain over my neck, he continued. “That’s why I liked it. Also, the stones look wonderful with your skin color.”
I blushed.
“They’re blue diamonds,” he said as he clasped together the delicate chain. He leaned close to my ear and whispered, “I think the permanence of the materials is rather important to the symbol.”
“I concur,” I said as I turned around. He smiled, looking at the pendant.
“It’s beautiful on you.” He cocked his head to the right and put on a pensive expression. “And yet, I wonder…”
I pursed my lips into a smirk. “You wonder what it would look like against my bare skin?”
“Precisely!”
I laughed and pulled off the Princeton shirt. He adjusted the pendant so it was straight and pressed his warm palm to my sternum.
“Exquisite,” he said, leaving his lips parted. That was all the invitation I needed as I pulled myself up to his mouth for a long kiss. His hands moved down my back and tugged at the polar bear boxers until they fell to the floor. I did the same to his pajama pants. He stepped out of them and lifted me up and onto the bed. He slid deep inside of me and held my body close to his. When he finally started thrusting, I thought he would release his tight hold on me. He never did.
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