19. Aerobic
19
Aerobic
Aerobic: Refers to a process or condition requiring or occurring in the presence of free oxygen.
OLIVER
T he door shut with a clunk. Tragically, the magic of Vegas hadn’t conjured a second bed into my hotel room. Plus, it somehow seemed more compact than when I’d left it this morning. Tessa was much smaller than me, but her presence took up at least half of the room. And although I carefully avoided her gaze, I could feel it pressing into me.
“Okay, let’s do this,” she said.
I ripped my stare off the white pillows. “Do what?” I was not imagining what her hair would look like spread across them.
“Come on. I’m going to shower, then we’re going to get past this.”
“Get past this?” My voice came out as a prepubescent squeak. I cleared my throat. “Get past what? How?”
“Don’t be dense. This.” She waved between us like she could see the invisible fingers of my obsession, the ones that wanted to touch her everywhere. “And by fucking, of course.”
It was all wrong. The captivation I felt for her wasn’t something to be flushed out of my body like a juice cleanse. It was something that, if she felt it too, I wanted to explore. Slowly. Cautiously. Then passionately. I sucked in a breath, but there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. Not with her here.
“‘This’”—I pressed a hand to my thudding heart—“isn’t something we can resolve by sleeping together.”
She stared at my hand on my chest. “Sure it is. Isn’t that why you insisted I share your one bed?”
“No. No! I was…I was being nice . We’re colleagues. We haven’t so much as kissed. Or held hands.”
She tilted her head, sending that captivating hair cascading down the front of her black dress. The dress had buttons down the front, and I imagined unbuttoning the top one, the one that had teased me with a peek of the valley between her breasts all during dinner. “Which one is it, Oliver? We’re colleagues and we shouldn’t? Or you’re a romantic, and this is moving too fast for you?”
“I…” No matter what I’d said, I wanted her. I wanted to drop to my knees, push up her skirt, and taste her. I wanted to make her stop asking questions and groan out my name. But not if this was only a one-sided attraction.
She smiled like she’d read the answer on my face. She stepped closer, not yet touching me, but so close her breath tickled my neck. My gaze dropped to her slightly parted, pink lips, and I swallowed.
She rose on her toes until all I had to do was tilt my face to press my lips to hers.
I hesitated. This was what I craved, right? A kiss? That’s all this had to be. A sample. A test.
I tilted.
We touched.
My lips met hers with a zing of electricity.
It was awkward, as first kisses are. My lips were dry, and I wasn’t sure if I should move them or not. Would the tug of my skin on hers be uncomfortable? I worried I’d been still too long, and I resolved to pull away in another second. Call it bad chemistry.
When she opened and licked the seam of my lips, heat flicked up my spine. I opened too and let her explore me. Her tongue slid against mine, and I imagined lying in the king-sized bed, the lamplight glowing on her naked skin. How many freckles did she have under her clothes? Could I count them all?
She set her cool fingers on my hot cheek, grounding me back in my body, back in our kiss. With gentle pressure, she tipped my face forward, deepening the kiss, and my arms went around her back, fitting her against my body, my hard against her soft. I was kissing Tessa Wright the way I’d dreamed of doing.
She shifted her hips, and I imagined sinking into her. The sounds she’d make. The sight of her bare breasts, the taste of her nipples. Would she rake her nails down my back? Grip my hips between her knees? Suddenly, it was too much.
This was our first kiss, and I needed to slow the fuck down. I opened my eyes, but my glasses had fogged, and I saw only a pink blur where her face should be. Her floral scent engulfed me, inflamed me. Tearing my lips from hers, I kissed feverishly across her jaw, willing my erection to stand down.
It didn’t.
“Mmh. I’m ready to fuck you right out of my system,” she said, tilting her head to the side to allow my lips to slip down the long column of her neck.
When her words filtered through my lustful haze, I pulled away from her to take a cleansing breath and force my brain back online. “Wh-what?”
She trailed the tip of her tongue along my neck, making me shiver. “You heard me. Let’s take this to bed.”
“No.” The word ripped out of me. I didn’t want a one-time thing. I wanted to know her from the inside out, to understand what made her the way she was. I needed days, weeks, goddamn months to explore her. I wanted my hemoglobin to carry her through my blood like oxygen. Then we’d fuck, and it’d be amazing. A true melding of minds and hearts. The steam on the inside of my glasses thinned until I could see more clearly. “No,” I repeated.
She narrowed her eyes. “Is this one of those no-means-yes situations? I’m really not into that.”
“No definitely means no.” She stared at the bulge in my suit pants, so I added, “No matter what my body thinks. Look, I’ll find a different hotel.” My lust ebbed when I stepped away from her. I yanked open the closet door and pulled out my suitcase.
“Wait.” Something soft landed on the back of my suit jacket. Her hand. “I’m sorry. I misread the signals. I thought you… Never mind.”
I turned, capturing her hand in mine and pulling it to my chest. “I have feelings for you. And they’re not the kind of feelings I want to fuck away.”
She ripped her hand away. “I don’t want feelings.”
I stumbled back like she’d poked a scalpel between my ribs. We’d both misread the situation. “Give me five minutes to pack up, then I’ll be out of your way.” I set my suitcase on the dresser and opened a drawer.
“No, please.” Her voice was as gentle as her hand had been a minute ago. I hated it. Hated the pity I heard. “It’s late. I don’t want you to be exhausted at our breakfast meeting tomorrow. We can act like adults and share the room. It’s a big bed, and I’ll stay on my side. Please put the suitcase away.”
“Okay.” My voice came out gruff. “I’ll brush my teeth, then the shower’s all yours.”
I set my suitcase back in the closet and closed myself in the bathroom. I took off my glasses and leaned on the counter to stare at my reflection. My pupils were blown, and my hair was wild on one side where Tessa had dug her fingers into it. I combed it down with my fingers, then rubbed my eyes. When I’d gotten up this morning, I had not imagined ending my day with kissing Tessa. Not sleeping beside her. Would I get any rest at all, knowing she was right there and down to fuck?
I wished I were the kind of guy who could give her what she wanted—what we both wanted—and move on. But I’d already imprinted on her like one of Dr. Lorenz’s goslings. After we slept together, when she was ready to return to a platonic relationship, I’d always be longing for more. Working alongside her would be torture.
In my brain, I knew I’d been right to turn her down. But I wished I could convince the rest of me.
I changed out of my suit and into the pajama pants and T-shirt I’d hung on the back of the door, hissing when the fabric rubbed against my sensitive, still-erect dick. I brushed my teeth and shoved the rest of my stuff into my toiletry bag. Holding my suit pieces in front of the bulging fly of my pajama pants, I yanked open the door and strode out.
Tessa sat on the chair, a toiletry bag and some folded clothing on her lap. She scanned my pajamas. “I see your love of roleplaying games extends to your sleepwear.”
I glanced down at the D20s printed on my pajama pants and my T-shirt with the words, This is how I roll. I thanked my past self for tossing my nerdiest sleepwear into my bag. No one could be turned on by tabletop gaming. The tension in my shoulders eased, and even my erection flagged. I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a geek, twenty-four seven.”
Was that another smile that teased her lips? I’d seen more smiles from her this evening than in the two months we’d worked together.
When she disappeared into the bathroom, I hung my suit in the closet. I grabbed the extra pillows from the top shelf and took them back to the bed. It was big enough for two if I took precautions.
Leaving one pillow at the head on each side, I lined up the spares in a double layer down the middle. I pulled back the covers on the right side, the one farthest from the bathroom and closest to the door, and lay down. All I could see to my right was pillows. Good.
I left the lamp on so she could see when she came out and closed my eyes. The sound of the shower was soothing as long as I didn’t picture her in it. Naked, soap suds trailing over her freckles.
Groaning, I pulled the pillow from under my head and smashed it over my face. I’d never get to sleep if I thought about her naked body. Or our kiss. Or kissing her in the shower. God!
I flipped, turning my back to the bathroom. I picked up my phone from the nightstand. I double-checked my alarm, then I switched to my messaging app. I’d text Andrew to keep my mind off my new, temporary roommate.
Hey
I waited a minute. Then I checked my email and responded to a question from Yujun. When I switched back to my messaging app, there was no response from Andrew. He was probably snuggled up with Carly. Maybe they were having sex.
Ugh! I scrubbed the image from my mind.
“You built a…pillow fort?” Tessa’s voice behind me made me jump.
Without turning, I said, “It’s safer.”
She chuckled. “Safety is your thing.”
“Of course it is.” It had been even before Simon’s accident. I set my phone face down on the nightstand and bunched up the pillow under my head.
Behind me, the mattress rustled, and there was a slight tug on the comforter.
“This pillow is too flimsy,” she muttered.
“No, it’s not,” I lied.
“Look, I’m too old to sleep with my head at a weird angle. I’m going to take a pillow from the bottom of the bed. I promise not to kick you.”
“Fine,” I muttered.
More rustling. “Turn off the light?”
I reached up and flipped the switch. But the darkness only made it easier to imagine her slender curves on the other side of the pillows. What was she wearing? What position did she sleep in? I hugged the pillow tighter, willing it to inflate to support my neck.
It didn’t. I sighed.
“Wishing we were fucking right now?” she asked.
Pretending to be halfway asleep, I grunted.
She sighed. “Me too, friend. Me too.”
I dreamed I was in a bed of roses, without thorns and spiky leaves, only the blooms. They were soft, pillowy, and so fragrant that when I woke, the scent of roses lingered in my nostrils.
So did a tickly bit of hair. I blew it off my nose.
Then I realized my face was buried in Tessa’s hair, and it was what smelled like roses.
I forced myself to remain still as I assessed the situation. My heart rocketed when I realized I was pressed against her from chest to toes. One arm was flung across Tessa’s middle. She wore something satiny that felt smooth against my skin. My other arm, numb and unresponsive, was shoved under her pillow. My knees were pressed up to the back of hers. And my dick? It was anything but asleep, nestled against her ass.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Where had my pillow barrier gone?
I hoped she was sleeping through the tattoo my heart was banging against my ribs and hers.
I lifted my arm from her warm skin, then carefully scooted my hips backward. I extricated my legs next. Finally, I had enough space to plant my working hand on the mattress so I could drag my dead arm out from under Tessa’s head. Cautiously, I rolled to my back, then to my other side. I levered up to sit on the edge of the bed as my hand prickled with returned circulation. The other one shook.
A glance at my phone told me it was about an hour before my alarm would go off. I’d forgotten to close the blackout curtains, so the lights from the neon signs on the Strip illuminated the pile of pillows that had migrated to the foot of the bed. Which one of us had tossed them there?
It didn’t matter. It also didn’t matter if we fucked or not. This woman would never be out of my system.
As quietly as possible, I grabbed my workout clothes and, still in my pajamas, rushed downstairs to the hotel gym, where I pounded out the adrenaline on the treadmill. I showered in the locker room, wishing I’d had the foresight to grab my suit. Instead, I had to return to the room for it, wearing my nerdy sleep T-shirt and carrying my balled up, sweaty workout tee.
I let myself back into the room, wincing at the loud mechanical whirr of the lock.
Tessa, already dressed in her black pantsuit, stood in front of the full-length mirror, fastening her earrings. “Morning.”
“Good morning,” I said cautiously.
“Better hurry. We’re supposed to meet Dr. Deng in twenty, and it’s a ten-minute walk.”
I let out a long breath. Good. We weren’t going to talk about last night. “I’ll get dressed. Five minutes.” I turned to the closet.
“Hey,” she said. When I turned around, her reflection grinned at me. “Can you see the dent your dick left in my butt cheek?” She lifted the bottom of her jacket.
My face burned. “I’m really sorry. I don’t know what?—”
She chuckled. “I’m kidding. Don’t worry about it. Get ready. I need you to wow an oncologist.”
Despite the smoldering humiliation in my chest, I did my best to impress Dr. Deng. And fortunately, Tessa didn’t show up to my second talk, so I could focus on what I was telling the audience. In fact, I didn’t see her again that day. And when I returned to the room, her things were gone, even the long strand of red hair coiled in the sink.