15
Levi
TURNS OUT TWO DAYS could change a lot in two people's lives.
Thompson was obsessed with the American Civil War, so what better place to go for an annual retreat than Gettysburg, Pennsylvania?
I was looking forward to the trip even less now.
Even the arrangements I made to make that much better did not make the trip worth it.
The only silver lining was spending a weekend with Elle.
As husband and wife. A thrill ran down my spine at the prospect.
Elle and I were the last to arrive at the hangar. And as we approached the other professors, all ten of them, we could hear them grumble about the trip.
"Gettysburg again?" Lily, the wife of the head of the Anthropology department, said in a not so loud whisper.
Her blue and white floral dress flapped in the wind, and the straw hat she had on threatened to flee her head, if it weren't for the ribbon tied around her head.
"Be glad," another petite older woman I didn't recognize said. "He wanted to go to Shiloh."
Lily visibly recoiled. "I would have killed myself if we had to go there again, Patty. I could never do that again."
"Look on the bright side," said Patty. "At least this time we're doing it in style." She darted her gaze to the plane that dwarfed them. "I don't think I've ever been on a private jet."
"Looks like you're not the only one who doesn't like the retreats," Elvira whispered beside me.
I caught a whiff of her vanilla and citrus perfume, and I instantly felt my groin tighten.
When I went to her place to pick her up, she was already waiting outside.
Her landlord was fixing a broken pipe, she had said.
She explained the issue, but I didn't hear anything beyond those few words.
She was dressed modestly in jeans and a tank top that clung to her figure so well, but I could not stop thinking about tearing her clothes apart and having my way with her.
The drive to the airport had been hard. All I could think of were the ways I could have sex with her in the car. This was going to be a long weekend.
The group was waiting for us at the hangar, all huddled around in groups of two or three.
They all turned their gazes in our direction when they saw us arrive.
Subconsciously, I took Elle's warm hand into mine — an act I was getting too comfortable doing.
"They're looking at us like we're zoo animals," Elle whispered.
"Why did you have to order the jet? We could have just flown there via commercial. "
"You might be used to slumming it, but I'm not."
"I would hardly call a forty-five minute first class flight slumming it."
"It is when it's domestic travel."
Elle shook her head. "I had no idea I married a princess."
Professor Thompson was the first to approach us.
He was wearing what I could best call a safari outfit.
Khaki pants, a khaki shirt, and a bottle-green bucket hat that made him look like a discount version of Indiana Jones.
He shook my hand. "I just want to thank you again for footing the bill.
When you said travel would be included, I didn't think you meant, uh, this.
" He waved at the Gulfstream jet waiting in the wings.
"Everybody's bags have been stored?" I asked as one attendant passed by us with mine and Elle's luggage.
"Yes, but we didn't want to be too forward. You know, jumping in before the owner came," he chuckled nervously.
"It's fine. Tell the others to go on in."
"Sure." He turned to the group, clapped once to gain their attention and gave them instructions to get on the plane.
Two attendants greeted each passenger as they got in.
Elle and I were the last to board, and the flight took off as soon as we sat down.
I had organized the in-flight drinks, which were served soon after we were in the air.
That lightened the stiff mood, and soon the geriatrics, as Elle called them, were relaxed and talking.
"If you thought he wanted your money then, imagine now," Elle said to me as she covertly gestured to Thompson, who was gesticulating animatedly to Patty and three other colleagues.
"I told you. I didn't want to fly commercial. It sounded like a hustle when you told me about it."
She bent her head in surprise. "Have you ever hung out with us plebs, or can you not travel over great distances without using a private jet or a helicopter?"
"Yes. Several times, if you must know."
She folded her arms. "Really? When?"
"A lot, actually. Only when I do, I don't have to take care of the flight details, someone usually does that for me."
She chuckled. "Let me guess, one of your many butlers."
I blinked back, surprised at her astute guess.
"My god. You truly are a princess. You're not going to like where we are going. You're going to feel all the peas in the mattresses at the hotel you booked."
"Is it bad?"
"It's the best in town, actually. But don't expect the Plaza service. You're going to have to slum it with the plebs this time around." She chuckled and added. "And eat our food."
"I can eat anything that's served to me." I know I am a picky eater, but she made it sound as though I can't stomach a simple hotdog.
"Really? Is that why you always order food at The Fork?"
"I order there because cafeteria food is greasy and not to my taste." Also, the restaurant had the best food in town, but I wasn't going to tell her that. It would only prove her point.
"There you go," she said smugly.
"You sound like my brother."
"Which one?"
"The eldest. Nolan. He's a bit like you. Always quick to judge my tastes."
"I'm not judging them," she said, sliding down her seat and closing her eyes.
"I like your taste. Like you, I hate flying commercial.
" A small smile spread across my lips. I liked making her happy.
Now that I was no longer suppressing it, it felt good to show her how I felt.
In small ways of course. If I overdo it, I might scare her away.
She called me Professor Phantom, for chrissake.
Whatever that meant, it could not be good.
The only way to show her I had feelings for her I could think of now was materialistic.
She was not a materialistic person in the slightest, but it was difficult to come up with anything that wasn't grand or overt that didn't make my feelings obvious, and right now, I could not risk being obvious.
"I never thanked you, by the way." She opened her eyes and gazed at me from her reclined seat. Her big eyes were the prettiest shade of brown. They were dark, almost black.
"For what?" I almost had trouble saying the words without stumbling on them like a lovesick teenager.
"The cafeteria incident. You didn't have to do that."
"It was your friend who exposed our marriage."
"But you came to my rescue before that."
"Did I? I thought I had only sat next to you, that's all."
"You've just called cafeteria food, some of the best mass-produced food I've tasted by the way, greasy. You weren't there that day because you like burritos."
I shrugged. "I thought I should give them a taste, you know. It was all pure coincidence."
She was on the money. I had seen Billie and Wyatt making their way to the cafeteria while I was on my way to lunch.
Wyatt was saying they should no longer hide their relationship, and Billie said something about Elvira being there, which made Wyatt want to go even more.
So, I just followed them a few feet away.
When they deliberately chose to sit next to Elle and her friend, that's when I knew they had malicious intentions.
They didn't care about people seeing them.
They cared more about hurting Elle, and I couldn't take it anymore.
It was then that I realized I had feelings for her.
Nothing crazy like love or like that, but I realized I had been suppressing my desire for her.
I want her. I want to have sex with her.
That night at the castle was tough for me to sleep through.
While she snored like a content kitten, I twisted and turned in bed, itching to reach over and touch her.
Kiss her. Make love to her. So after that, it was decided.
Elle and I will start a relationship. She didn't know that yet.
I haven't broached the subject, but at some point I have to, because I cannot take the constant semi-hardness every time I am in her presence.
"Uh huh? Well, thanks anyway. I kinda feel it's my fault you have to be dragged to a civil war outing because of it. I know how you hate American history."
"Don't blame yourself. You did nothing wrong. Your friend, on the other hand…"
The rest of the flight was uneventful, and we arrived in Pennsylvania in record time.
Elvira was right. The hotel, the best one Thompson could find and had booked all of us in, was far from my expectations, but when it came to historical accuracy, it was quite good.
It was a historically themed hotel with Greek Revival architecture and styled with Civil War era interior decor.
A building that awed the group, but was nothing like I was expecting.
Still, when Elle gave me the "I told you so" look, I said nothing while we were shown to our room.
It was a deluxe suite with pink and white nineteenth-century wallpaper, nineteenth-century oak furnishings, or at least styled to look so. Cream drapes, French doors that opened to a balcony, a couch with upholstery that matched the drapes, a centerpiece fireplace and a bed. One large bed.
I glanced around the suite. It was the only bed in the room. "I didn't know he would book a room with one bed," I said guiltily. If I were Thompson, it made sense to book a room with one bed, especially for a young 'married' couple such as us. I couldn't blame him.
Elle sighed.
"Is sleeping with me that bad? Some women would jump at the chance to do so."
"Well, I am not one of them. I'm going to call the desk and tell them to put us into a two-bed suite."
"The newlyweds sleeping in separate beds? The ever-expanding grapevine would love that."
Elle frowned. "You did this deliberately, didn't you?"
"Trust me, if it were up to me, I would have made sure we sleep in separate rooms. You snore."
She gasped. "I don't!"
I shrugged. "I heard you. We could record you if you think I'm lying." Her snores were cute and strangely lulling, but the shock on her face was too fun for me not to toy with her. "Kept me awake last time."
Her eyes widened. "No way."
"Just kidding. But you do snore."
"I can't believe it," she began pacing, as though I had dropped earth-shattering lore on her. She paused. "What do I sound like?"
I thought of the noisiest machine that could come to mind. "Like a tractor."
If her eyes could get any bigger, they would.
I chuckled. "Like a cat. It's kinda cute, actually."
"You find my snores cute?"
She seemed perplexed by this. Oops. I must have revealed too much.
An uncomfortable silence settled in the room as both stared at each other.
How could one woman look so beautiful so effortlessly?
Desire pooled in my groin. Her plump lips looked good to kiss.
My feet itched to close the gap and taste them.
My hands itched to feel her body. One move and my wishes would come true.
Elle cleared her throat and the spell. "I will, uh," she gestured to the overall nothingness behind her. "I will go tour the hotel. See what the place looks like." She ran out of the room. Fuck. I had already ruined my chances before I even began.