But he didn’t answer. He was sleeping so hard she didn’t think any manner of calling his name would wake him. She sat on the edge of his bed, and gently shook him. “Mick?” she said. “Mick?”
She shook him again. And again. Then harder. It was only then did he wake with a start, lifting up as if he was under some sort of attack. When he saw that it was Roz sitting there, waking him up, he laid back down. And smiled.
“You’re a hard sleeper,” she said.
“I fell asleep. Sorry about that.”
“Nothing to be sorry about,” she said as she stood again. She began picking up the discarded clothes he tossed when he stepped out of them. “You were tired. I’m glad you got yourself some rest.”
Mick watched her as she gathered up his clothes. As she took care of his needs. No one had ever done that for him before, as most women would just let the maid take care of it, and it affected him greatly. With someone else he would immediately think game. This person wanted something from him. But this was Rosalind who was picking up after him. This was the first woman who ever turned down his sexual advances. The first woman who refused to let his connections with a Broadway director give her an advantage over the other struggling actresses. The first woman who got an inkling of just how rich and powerful he really was, but seemed more intimidated than emboldened by it. This was Rosalind. This was the first woman he didn’t just fuck, but actually made love to, and it was so beautiful that it touched him to his core. Just as something as simple as her picking up after him was touching him now. She stood apart from all the rest. Far apart. He was never going to think game when he thought of Rosalind.
“Dinner’s ready,” she said, as she folded his underwear. He loved seeing her touch his intimate apparel. “Unless you think you can use some more rest,” she added. “You can always eat later. There is, believe it or not, a microwave in this joint!”
Mick smiled. “Go figure.”
“Go figure,” Roz agreed, with a smile of her own.
Mick stared at her. Because he was touched even more by her smile. And his look changed. He reached out his hand to her. “Come here,” he said.
Roz felt some kind of tingle when he used that voice of command. It made her feel as if she somehow belonged to this man. An irrational feeling, she knew. But she felt it. And she sat his underwear in the chair, and went to him.
He took her hand and sat her on the edge of his bed. He was naked as a jaybird, but she loved the fact that it didn’t seem to bother him at all. It bothered her, in a powerfully sensual way, but he was not a man of inhibitions. He was completely relaxed.
“Thank you,” he said to her.
“What for? For cooking? I plan to eat that food too, you know.”
He smiled. “For that, yes. But also for picking up after me.” His look turned serious. “That’s not done, you know.”
In whose world, she wondered. Because it was nothing to Roz. She saw clothes discarded, she picked them up. No big deal. But apparently it was a big deal in Mick’s considerably different world. So she didn’t argue the point. “You’re welcome,” she said.
And they found themselves, on that bed, staring into each other’s eyes. And then Mick stared at her pretty lips and pulled her toward him. And kissed those very kissable lips. Just a peck. And the peck that became a kiss that lingered, that became a kiss so filled with passion that he couldn’t stop kissing her. He pulled her on top of him, and made long love to her mouth.
Roz could feel his cock come to life beneath her, as she held his face and kissed him vigorously too.
Mick kissed her with an emotion that staggered him. Every time he was near this woman, it gave him a rush of feeling he’d never felt before. It felt desperate and calming, intense and relaxing, all at the same time. But it all amounted to the same thing: he wanted her. He wanted her as deeply as he kissed her long and hard.
He placed his hand beneath her skirt and inside her panties and massaged her bare ass. He was still kissing her, still unable to break the union, and his penis was activating to a must-have level. He had to get inside of her. He had to feel that feeling of euphoria once again.
And he did it. He put on a condom, removed her clothing, and guided it inside of her. And then, as they began to gyrate, a shift occurred. The desperate and intense were gone, and the calming and relaxing pushed on. They made love in a way that left him, not attempting to just fuck her, but to make love to her. He held her tenderly. He pushed into her folds slowly. He stroked her * with an ease he didn’t usually feel.
But he felt it with Roz. And Roz felt it with him. And soon they were in a rhythm that neither one of them were accustomed to, but both of them adored. They took it slow.