Natalie Vs. Prince

sp; “You’ll have to cut it off. All of it,” she tells me, “especially the womanizing,” she adds as an afterthought, and I’m not entirely sure if she’s talking from the perspective as the woman I’ve just fucked, or as Natalie, the PR consultant.

“Oh, sounds fantastic; I can’t fucking wait,” I start, irony dripping out of my words. “Is that all?” She looks down at her folders, then at her laptop and back to her folders.

“That’s all.”

“You sure came a lot earlier just to tell me that…” I tease her, looking straight into her eyes. She purses her lips, sighs, and then looks back at me.

“You know… I had much more than this planned, but after… after the sex… It’s not like I can remember all of it.” Even though she’s talking in a slightly awkward way about what happened earlier in the morning, there’s a slight smile on her face. A fucking good omen, at last.

“Sex amnesia?” I chuckle. “Let’s hope that won’t happen the next time,” I tell her, and I can see the gears turning inside her head as she tries to decode my words. Next time as in next meeting, or next time I fuck her? That really depends on her, doesn’t it? You know what I’d fucking answer to a question like that. “Look, why don’t we have lunch next Tuesday? It’s Sunday, so you should be enjoying the rest of your weekend, not working. We’ll pick up where we left off by then.”

She smiles at me, more relaxed than before, and nods. “Thank you,” she whispers, and then closes her laptop and places it inside her bag with the folders. She gets up from the couch, and I follow her to the door, opening it and standing to the side as she looks expectantly at me.

Now, I can’t fucking help myself. I lean in for a goodbye kiss and, at the same time, she reaches for me with the palm of her hand. Reacting instinctively, I shake her hand while I press my mouth against hers. Fucking smooth, right? Alright, this was fucking awkward… But it was totally worth one final kiss.

She smiles, her cheeks flushed, and clutches her bag against her chest. She looks like innocence incarnate, her bright eyes and full lips the epitome of fucking perfection. I’ve fucked top models, actresses, and even Olympic athletes (the hot ones, how do you like volleyball?), but I don’t think I’ve ever come across a woman such as Natalie. She seems so fucking simple… and, at the same time, so fucking beautiful.

“You have to go now,” I tell her, looking serious. She arches one eyebrow in surprise, and then I grin. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to fuck you again.”

I can’t fucking wait for Tuesday.

7

Natalie

Christine holds the phone to my face and the glare of the screen is momentarily blinding. "Was this before or after I threw up?" There's a look of semi-concern on her face.

Alicia jumps in. "I think that was after," she says. "Look at your face; your eyes are telling the camera that you just Jackson Pollocked the wall in the bathroom."

"That girl's night out was the best," I say, laughing. Christine is the one friend who epitomizes the 'work hard play hard' mantra. We recently celebrated her 22nd birthday by throwing a surprise party, and to say it was memorable is an understatement. It was downright epic.

We all laugh—Christine, Alicia, and I. We are at the UN Delegates Dining Room at the UN sipping cocktails; there's the sound of businessmen talking in the background, and Christine has her phone out, scrolling through old Instagram photos. We're all taking a trip down memory lane.

"I swear, the world would be a better place if women ran it," Alicia says, looking around the dining room. "At the very least, there'd be a lot less conflict in the world. Christine and I both nod in agreement. Men are always trying to one up each other it seems.

"How are you and Derek doing?" I ask Alicia, changing the subject.

"Besides packing on an extra 10 pounds from him insisting that we eat out almost every day of the week, I'd say it's good," Alicia smiles. "And of course the sex is amazing."

I seriously doubt it's better than the spontaneous session Connor and I shared in his shower yesterday morning—the heat from his body and the hot water ushering my entire body into the flames of desire, but I keep that thought to myself.

"Is that the guy you met on the subway?" Christine asks. "I still can't believe that even happened. That's one of the craziest things I've ever heard. You should really put it in a book."

Christine and Alicia continue to chat about everything from what they're currently binge watching on Netflix, to the barista at Starbucks who always manages to misspell their names in the morning.

But my mind is still stuck on Connor, and in particular, the last words out of his mouth, “You have to go now because if you don’t, I’m going to fuck you again.”

Do I want that?

The sex was amazing … the best I've ever had—his lips on my most intimate areas and me being so at ease with it, but Connor is my client—one of the most important clients at Gage Price, and I can't mix business with pleasure. It's just not a good idea.

"Oh, I see him," Alicia jumps up excitedly. "It's Derek. Excuse me for a moment ladies. I'll be right back."

Once Alicia walks off, Christine gives me a gentle nudge.

"What's wrong?" she asks me. "Your mind seems like it's on another planet. Is everything okay? Alicia and I have been chatting away and you're sitting here and cold and quiet as an ice cube."

"Sorry, I'm fine," I say, shrugging her off.