The euphoria follows me through the rest of the day, and when Alayna texts me later, I answer. When her message asks, “Are you thinking of me?” I don’t hesitate and answer honestly, “Always.”
My plane is delayed leaving Chicago, and I’m late for the symphony. I’m anxious as I rush through the lobby at Lincoln Center. Not only am I eager to see Alayna, but I’m going crazy imagining all the shit Celia could have stirred up in my absence. Luckily, Madge and Warren are also in attendance. Hopefully their presence will keep their daughter in check.
I enter our box just as the lights go down. Alayna’s back is to me, but even just the nape of her neck and the curve of her shoulders is enough to make my cock twitch and my chest warm. I can tell that she’s wearing the dress I requested. Though I can’t see how she looks in it now, I know from memory how the long black gown hugs her curves, how the corset ties that lace up her back are going to be a bitch to untie when I strip her later.
Except I’m not stripping her later. I have to remember that’s not what she’s asked for.
My phone buzzes with an incoming text and I glance at it. It’s from Alayna. “Where are you?”
I slip down the steps to my chair and lean toward her to whisper in her ear as I sit. “Right beside you.”
The music begins as I nod a greeting to the Werners, but all I’m aware of is Alayna. The look of her, the warmth of her, the smell of her—it’s all consuming. She doesn’t want anything but the pretend between us, but I take her hand and justify it as a part of the show for Celia’s parents. I hold it, clinging to her touch until intermission. If this is all I have of her, I’ll soak up every last bit.
We do well with our performance as a couple. The Werners seem to buy our relationship. I’m concerned when Alayna accompanies Celia and Madge to the restroom, but I can’t do anything to prevent them from using the facilities. My eyes dart from Warren to the box entrance the entire time they’re gone.
Warren notices. “Ah, young love,” he says. “I remember when I couldn’t stand being without Madge. In fact, forget young—I still feel that way.”
I nod. Love, he said. I spin the word in my head. It has no meaning to me. The way he seems to feel about his wife is nothing I’ve ever witnessed between my parents. And, yes, I’m keen to have Alayna by my side again. But that’s not called love. Is it?
When they return from the bathroom, Alayna seems on edge. She’s needy, touching me as often as she can. She slides her hand under my suit jacket, and I’m hopeful that it means she may be willing to give us another chance.
But if she is, it’s a bad idea for me to pursue it, and an even worse idea to let Celia know. So I limit my contact with Alayna to hand-holding, even though I am just as desperate to touch her as it seems she is to touch me. As the music plays, I convince myself a million times that I will not take her back to the loft. And just as many times, I convince myself I will. Whichever will win, I don’t know, but at least Celia won’t be privy to it.
After the concert, we all walk to the parking garage together. I keep my arm around Alayna, but I can’t look at her. The touching is supposed to be show, but if she peers into my eyes, I’m afraid she’ll see how very real this all is for me. I’m afraid it will be witnessed by my partner in crime. It’s a balancing act that I manage but only barely.
At my car, I put Alayna in the passenger seat and then say goodbye to the Werners. Celia leans in to hug me. “You’ve backed off. I’m impressed,” she whispers in my ear.
“I could say the same.” I whisper back, though I doubt that she’s backed off anything and I’m not at all impressed. She laughs. My gut constricts at the sound. She takes such pleasure in this game while I’m struggling, playing both sides.
But I don’t want to think about Celia any longer. Now I get to be alone with Alayna, and I have to decide what that’s going to mean.
We’re quiet as we drive out of the garage, snippets of the symphony replaying in my mind. I use this time to let go of the tension the evening has caused. I also resume the internal war—do I take her to her home or to the loft? From what I can read of Alayna, she’s equally conflicted. Since she’s unaware of all the risks involved in our relationship, it’s up to me to make the informed decision.
I’ve made up my mind by the time we’ve gotten to the road. It’s not a decision that makes me completely comfortable, but it’s the only one I can live with.
While I’m working out how to tell Alayna, she breaks the silence. “So you knew Celia would be there tonight.”
Her tone is harsh, and it surprises me.
“I knew Celia would be there with her parents, yes.” I throw a glance at her, trying to understand her angle. “Her parents, whom are friends with my parents, remember.”
She’s upset with me. I’m not sure why. Or she’s upset with herself. She knocks her head softly against the window, and I catch her dabbing at a tear.
“What’s wrong?” Maybe there was more to the restroom trip with Celia and Madge than I realized. I’m already making plans of what I’ll do to Celia next time I see her.
But Alayna surprises me again. “I want you,” she whispers into the glass.
She’s said it so quietly that I doubt what I heard. “Alayna?”
“I know what I said.” She wipes her eyes. “But maybe I was wrong. I mean, I don’t know if you’re right—if spending time with you can make me better. But I know that since we’ve been apart, I’ve been worse.” She looks at me and there’s the light again. The light I’ve been longing for that shines only in her eyes.
“I miss you.” She giggles. “Told you I get attached.”
I’m relieved. I’d made the right decision, and even more comforting is that she’s admitted she’s attached. I don’t even care what that means for Celia’s scam. Because what it means for me is everything.
I can’t hide my delight. “Where do you think I’m taking you?”
She looks out the window. I can tell the exact moment she realizes we’re headed for the loft. A blush shades her cheeks. “Oh.”
Then she thinks about it more. “I told you no more sex, and you were taking me to the loft without asking?” Irritation’s spun with her words.
“Alayna,” I sigh. God, our situation is frustrating. She’s frustrating. “You are a bundle of mixed signals. At the symphony, you seemed to indicate—”
“And you totally blew me off. Don’t talk to me about mixed signals!”
Of course that’s what she thinks. She didn’t understand my motives. How could she?
I rest a hand on her knee. “I was trying to avoid mixing business with pleasure. A difficult task with you, precious.” I need her to know how she affects me. I would prefer to show her, but since I’m driving, I have to try words. “Especially with your wandering hands and how hot you look in that dress.”
She softens. “Oh.”
“If you want me to ask, I will, though you know it’s not my style.” She stares at me, wide eyed, so I force myself to ask what I never ask. “May I take you to my bed, Alayna?”
“Yes,” she moans, and I’ve never been so grateful for a traffic light. I pull her to me. I’m greedy with my kiss. Forget manners or niceties. I’m going to fuck her how we both need to fuck tonight—with desperation and need. This kiss is the prelude.
A horn interrupts us, prodding me to drive. My dick is as hard as stone, and I can barely concentrate, but somehow I manage to get to the Pierce Industries building without killing us. I hand my keys to the valet. Then we’re in the elevator. We tease each other on the ride up, and as soon as we’re in the loft, I have her pressed against the wall. I cradle her face with my hands, and I kiss her. Greedily, hungrily, with abandon.
While I worship her with my mouth, she strokes me through my clothing. Then she works my cock free, stripping me of my pants and briefs. She sinks to her knees, and before I can think about it, she has me in her mouth. I gasp, tugging on the strands of her hair. “God, Alayna. That’s so…ah…so good.”