15. Tori
TORI
The one serious piece of dating advice that Grace had impressed upon me time and time again during high school was that the only way to know for sure that your feelings for someone were real—and not just a passing crush, or a fit of lust-at-first-sight—was to kiss them. The kiss would tell you everything.
If she was right, then I was in deep trouble.
Glancing in the mirror as I brushed my teeth the next morning, I could see how swollen my lips still were. My mouth felt like a bruise, still tender from the intense, unrelenting kiss I’d shared with Stefan. It was a kiss I had spent most of the night alternately cursing and craving.
He was the first thing I’d thought of when I had opened my eyes that morning.
I hated myself for wanting him as badly as I did.
I hated the way his touch, rough and self-assured and just barely under control, had gotten me so hot.
I hated that even though I was furious at him, I still wanted him to carry me off to bed and torment my entire body, the same way he had tormented my mouth.
But the worst part was, it wasn’t just lust. That kiss had hit me like a lightning bolt.
I realized I had developed real, undeniable, honest-to-god feelings for him.
It was time to send Grace an international cry for help.
We might have had a pretty surface-level friendship, but even though our hangouts had been solely for the purpose of studying, she’d always treated me the same as all her other friends—despite the fact that my father’s rules and curfews kept me from joining them when they’d hang out.
And come Monday morning at school, Grace would catch me up on all their antics: at the movies in the city, or with hot guys at the mall, or while joyriding around Springfield in Grace’s cute little Bentley.
She’d always acted like I was part of the group.
She was the kind of girl who treated everyone like her best friend.
Budapest was seven hours ahead of Chicago, so that meant it was around 1:30 am for Grace. Knowing what her weekend schedule usually looked like, I would bet that she was still wide awake.
Even though Stefan was working in the next room, I glanced around the room just to be sure there was nobody around before I picked up my phone and started to type.
Hypothetical question: I texted. Let’s say there’s this girl. Who really wants to sleep with this guy. And she knows it should have already happened by now, but it hasn’t. And she doesn’t have a lot of experience with that kind of thing yet.
MM-HMMM, she texted back almost immediately, adding an emoji with a suggestive expression. Do go on…
So they’ve fooled around a few times, I wrote, trying to organize my thoughts. But.
I’d felt how hard his cock was through his pants last night. There was something about Stefan that made me feel desperate, hungry for him—but I clearly wasn’t alone in this desire. He’d been just as turned on as I was.
Even though it’s -obvious- that he wants her badly and chemistry isn’t the problem, I concluded my text, they still haven’t gone all the way yet.
Grace wrote back, Yes yes, and your question is? Hypothetically speaking?
I felt my face go hot as I typed, Why does he keep stopping right as it starts to get good?
I waited for her response, getting nothing, and was relieved when I could finally see the dots popping up that meant she was tapping out her reply.
Did this girl call him her ex’s name by mistake? Bc if so, I’ve been there. Mega turn-off.
This girl has no exes, I replied.
Did this girl maybe start crying or otherwise get very emotional in the middle of things? Known to be a common killer of boners.
I’d been emotional, yes, but he’d kissed me despite my anger, not been turned off by it. And was I crying? Nope. I typed back, That wasn’t it.
I watched Grace’s ellipses appear and then stop and then come back again. Finally, a long text popped up on my screen. It was a whole paragraph.
To be honest, Tori, and this is just hypothetical of course, I’m guessing that this boy…who might have initially been attracted to this girl partly *because* of her inexperience…is having some cold feet when it comes down to actually doing the deed.
I nodded as I read along.
It continued, BUT in my opinion, and experience, I have to honestly say— it will get better.
I saw the way he looked at you at the wedding, and that man had eyes for no one else.
If he’s acting like he wants you it’s because he DOES.
And if the sex hasn’t happened yet, it’s probably because he’s all torn up about how virginal you are and is afraid he’ll ruin your first time.
I know this all sounds crazy, but don’t be afraid to push his buttons.
Sometimes men need a little extra persuading to get the job done.
Everything she was saying made perfect sense. Relief was starting to wash over me.
PS! A fresh text had popped up. Make sure he knows how EXCITED you are for him to storm the castle—here she inserted a winking-faced emoji—I mean, make sure this girl knows to make sure that this boy knows that this girl is waiting for him to…etc, you get the point.
I sent back a thank you!!! and three emoji hearts, and then put my phone down. I felt a lot better already.
I dialed down to room service and asked them to bring me up a tray of coffee, fruit, and a selection of local pastries, and then climbed back into the cloud-like bed to mull things over.
Grace had to be right. Despite what Stefan had said about setting boundaries so that neither of us got hurt when we separated, I was willing to face those consequences and I didn’t see any reason why two consenting adults who were crazily attracted to each other shouldn’t take their relationship to the next level.
Even if it was solely a marriage of convenience, both of us walking around going mad with lust for the next few years (years!) wasn’t very convenient, was it?
In fact, I’d imagine that this kind of intense horniness would make it very difficult for Stefan to concentrate on the work that mattered so much to him.
It was hard enough for me to concentrate, and I was pretty much on vacation until the fall semester.
I wondered what Michelle would have thought of Stefan’s behavior last night.
Surely, she wouldn’t chide me for not trying hard enough to seduce him, though she probably wouldn’t have approved of me yelling at him.
At least, he had kissed me. Maybe that was the trick…
getting him angry enough that he would lose control. My lips curved up in a wicked smile.
The thought was tempting.
Because Stefan, while extremely sexy all of the time, was unbearably hot when he was mad. The intensity in his eyes had practically caused my thong to burst into flames. He had approached me like a predator stalking its prey. And I had liked it.
I wanted more. I wanted to push him to the edge. Wanted to make him so mad that he wouldn’t have any choice but to rip my clothes off and punish me.
Just the thought of it made me shiver.
This wasn’t like me at all. Previously, when I had thought about sex and the men I wanted, I had always fantasized about someone who was sweet and kind. Someone who went slow—someone who took their time.
Now, all I wanted was Stefan. And whatever he’d expect in the bedroom, I’d be happy to give him. I had a pretty good idea of what I’d be getting, too. It would be hard, rough, and hot.
My phone buzzed.
I picked it up, expecting another text from Grace.
It was an email. From Stefan.
Sitting up, I opened it, my pulse quickening. He was literally in the next room—why was he sending an email? What could be so official, or so long-winded, that he couldn’t write a text?
The subject was ‘As requested,’ but there was no text in the body of the email, just a document attached.
I quickly downloaded it to find that he had sent me an itinerary.
His itinerary for the entire day—6:00 breakfast, 7:00 phone meeting with Cartier reps, 8:00 conference call with KZM associates in …
I skimmed down and my eyes caught on my own name: Tori- sightseeing. Blocked out between mid-morning and the afternoon, in black and white, was time set aside to go sightseeing. With me.
My heart gave a little flip.
It wasn’t romantic by any traditional means, but I was touched nonetheless. Because while I had been ranting and upset last night, he had clearly been listening. And then he had done something about it.
Maybe the kiss had affected him in more ways than one.
I couldn’t help smiling. I was going to get a chance to see Budapest and finally spend some quality time with my new husband. Maybe we’d actually get to know each other better, and in doing so, find a better way to communicate.
The door to the bedroom opened and I leapt to my feet, wishing I’d gotten dressed and wasn’t still lying around in my pajamas.
I did my best to smooth my hair down as Stefan came in, looking impeccable as usual in his suit.
I tried not to drool at how good he looked, though I also wondered: Was he going to wear this sightseeing?
If so, I could certainly take the Rock Church, which was located inside an actual underground cave system, off my to-do list.
Just once, I wanted to see Stefan relaxed and casual. This whole 24/7 businessman thing was making it impossible for me to get to know him better. It wasn’t just the perfectly tailored suit that made it difficult—it was the tense expression he always seemed to pair with it.
Did the man ever smile?
I offered my own as he came into the room, but he barely glanced at me—as if he hadn’t sent the itinerary just moments ago, as if he hadn’t made a point to add time for us to sightsee together.