Gentleman Nine(37)
“I think that’s all I’ve got, actually. I feel like there should be more, but I can’t think of any at the moment.”
“How about I help?” I said. “I’ve got a few.”
“Okay…”
“I alluded to this before, but a main rule is that we meet on Saturdays only. And we don’t take it home with us. We don’t talk about it during the week. I think that’s gonna be important. As much as we may be tempted, sex happens only in our hotel room on Saturdays, and any talk of what we’re doing stays there as well. That way, this arrangement won’t interfere with our day-to-day lives.”
She nodded. “That’s smart.”
“You also agree to trust me and to tell me if I’m doing something that you don’t like. We need to communicate with each other, at least during the time that we’re there.”
“I will.”
“I’ll make all the arrangements.”
“We can alternate the cost of the room by week,” she said.
I held up my hand. “No. No way. I’ve got it.”
“I want to pay.”
“You can pay me back in other ways.” I winked. “Just kidding—maybe.”
She rubbed her arms. “This is all so weird, Channing. I feel like the past week has been a dream.”
“One more rule. There’s no pressure. If you’re having any doubts, you can change your mind at any time. No hard feelings.”
As much as I meant that, I really hoped she didn’t back out, that she wanted this as much as I did.
CHAPTER TWELVE
* * *
AMBER
“I still can’t get over the fact it was Channing all along.”
“You and me both, Annabelle. You and me both.”
Balancing the cordless phone on my shoulder, I picked out clothes for Saturday, packing them away in a small travel bag.
The outfit I’d chosen consisted of a little black skirt and a nude-colored shirt with black lace overlay that always made my tits look really good. The fact that it was Rory’s favorite shirt was my little secret “fuck you” to my ex.
“I swear,” she said. “I could write a book about your life in the past month, and it would sell like hotcakes. And we haven’t even gotten to the good part.”
Throwing some sleep shorts into the bag, I said, “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. I always said I didn’t want to get involved with Channing, but technically this isn’t really getting involved. It’s just sex.”
“I think the whole thing is sexy as hell. Not only was he trying to protect you, but he decided he wanted to be the man to do the job. My only question is…do you think you’ll be able to compartmentalize? I know you care about him. Can you really handle this?”
Deep down, I was worried. But I still didn’t want to deny myself this opportunity. It had simply been too long since I’d been with a man, and I was too weak to resist.
“He cares about me, too, but this is supposed to be separate from that fact. What happens in the hotel room, stays there. It sounds simple in theory, but I honestly don’t know how I’m going to feel once we actually do this. The truth is, for this to work, I need to learn to put aside my feelings and see this for what it is—two friends fulfilling a physical need for each other. He gets some thrill out of playing into this sordid hotel room fantasy. And I get what I’ve always wanted since he moved here, which is to experience having sex with him. This whole thing—my contacting the escort service—really started because of my attraction to him, which put me into this sexual frenzy in the first place. I just never expected that he felt something, too.”
“Just go with the flow. You’ve had a rough year. You’re still young. You don’t need to be in another relationship. Let Channing give you exactly what you need before he goes back to Chicago. And don’t let your worries ruin a good thing.”
***
We planned to meet at The Peabody at 3PM. He’d left me a note on my dresser while I was in the shower.
I’ll head over to the hotel first, get us a room, and I’ll text you the room number. Wear the pink thong you bought. I’ve been thinking about you in it ever since I picked it up off the grass on the Common.
The muscles between my legs clenched. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that Channing desired me when he could basically have anyone he wanted—including Emily. I still had no clue what was going on with the latter.
The Saturday morning breakfast run-in with him in the kitchen had been different than normal, to say the least. We’d sat in silence, drinking our coffees, but the weight of a thousand unsaid words loomed in the air.
Channing’s hair had been wet. His tight, white t-shirt stretched across his muscles. My eyes had been glued to his strong forearms every time he’d lift the coffee mug to his mouth—his sexy mouth. I still couldn’t believe that body would be hovering over me later, that he would be inside of me. It truly seemed surreal.
And then I’d caught him staring at me and suspected he must have been thinking the same thing. The lust in his eyes was palpable, and I was sure I must have looked the same to him, because I’d never felt like my desire for him was more obvious than that moment. It was one thing to want someone. It was another to want them, knowing you would actually get to have them.