Triplets Make Five

“Please don’t tell me that’s why you’re here,” Preston said.

“What?” I asked.

“If you’re here because you think you’re going to lose your job otherwise, then I’m taking you home. That is not what this is about.”

“Then what is this about?” I asked.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“You don’t even know,” I said.

“I know I’m drawn to you.”

“And I have no idea why,” I said.

“Neither do I. But I’m glad you’re giving me a chance to find out.”

“I’m not here because I think you’re going to fire me,” I said.

“And I’m not here just to have sex with you. Though should you choose, I most certainly wouldn’t turn you down.”

I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment as our first course came to the table.

The conversation of the night was lighthearted and topical. I learned a little more about how he became the businessman he was today, and I told him a little more about my love for graphic design. I expanded a little more on why I chose an accounting degree versus a graphic design degree, and Preston told me a little bit about his prep school years. He asked me if I enjoyed living in Philadelphia and I asked him if he enjoyed the same, and we talked a little bit about the places we frequent in town.

Like the bookstore not too far from here that I found myself in every weekend.

The night was actually pleasant. And I was surprised, given the fact that I knew Preston was hoping I would sleep with him. I was trying to ward off his advances, like the way his thumb would circle on top of my skin or the way his foot would rest beside mine underneath the table. Whenever we paused the conversation to eat, I could see his eyes focusing on my lips. The way they wrapped around my spoon and fork like I was some kind of animal on display.

The problem? I love the attention.

I had never been this wanted by a man before. I wasn't a virgin, but I also wasn't the kind of girl who could afford to be picky about the men I slept with. It was either sleeping with men who were desperate or not sleeping with men at all, so I wasn't experienced in the area.

Whereas Preston Walker most certainly was.

Soon, I found my foot staying put when he rested his against mine. Soon, I found myself leaning into his thumb’s ministrations instead of pulling away. The grin on his face began to grow as I relaxed in his presence, and once the dessert course was over and we had finished our wine, the infamous question fell from his lips.

“Can I give you a ride somewhere?”

He stood from his chair and walked towards me, offering his hand out to mine. He was giving me a chance to say ‘no’. A chance to walk away from this date and be nothing else but full of food. My eyes fluttered up to his as his green eyes pierced mine, sparking a flame deep within my gut I had never felt before.

I looked back down to his hand before I drew a deep breath, throwing caution to the wind as I slipped my hand into his. When was I going to get another chance like this? When was a man of Preston Walker’s caliber and worth ever going to find me anywhere near this sensuous? No one had to know about it. No one needed to know I was about to sleep with my boss. I could have my night of fun, release some pent-up stress, then return back to my hole and keep my nose down.

“Where are we going?” I asked as he helped me to my feet.

“I figured we could head back to my place,” he said.

And as a grin crept across my cheeks, his hand slid to the small of my back and escorted me out to the town car.

Eight

Delilah

I stumbled into his apartment, his hands all over my body. Preston’s lips felt like pillows against my skin, drawing moans from deep within my throat. My body felt alive as his hands caressed my sides, traveling up my dress and gripping onto my excess. I coiled my hands in his hair, pulling up his head so I could crash my lips into his.

My glasses clattered to the floor beside his front door as he slammed it shut.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he said. “Holy hell.”