She did have one, but it was her guilty secret. One that she hadn’t even shared with her ex-boyfriend, even after sleeping with him.
“You do, don’t you? Are you shy about it? Sex is a natural part of life, Julia. There is nothing shameful about knowing how to please yourself. In fact, I want you more now. I want to watch you make yourself come. I want to lie next to you, caressing you as you bring yourself to climax. But for now, let me hear it. Take yourself to where we both want to go.”
Frantically, Julia flung out a hand and opened the drawer on the nightstand beside her bed. Her hand closed on the six-inch toy she’d never admitted to owning. With a quick twist she turned it on and brought it to her eager clit.
“That’s it, Julia. Oh, God, you are so hot. Dip it inside of you. Deep inside. That will be me. Soon.”
She drove the toy deep inside her with one thrust and called out, “Gio.”
“Oh, yes. Say my name. I want to be on your lips. I want to be in your head. When you come, I want my name to be what you call out.”
With increasing speed, Julia plunged the vibrator inside of her and pulled it out, sliding it against her throbbing nub as she did. In and out. Faster and faster, until she dropped the phone next to her, grabbed the comforter next to her with one grasping hand, and cried out Gio’s name as she surrendered to her shuddering, glorious orgasm.
Neither of them spoke. As Julia came back down to earth, she grew self-conscious, as if he could see her. She pulled the comforter over her head quickly and stashed her vibrator back in the drawer.
She groaned. What am I doing?
“Julia.” He said her name like it was a command.
She’s not here.
She buried her face in a pillow for a moment. No wonder he thinks he can offer me money for sex. What is wrong with me?
“Pick up the phone or I’m coming over,” he said in a determined voice, and Julia knew he meant it.
With her face still buried in the pillow, she held her cell phone to her ear. “I am so embarrassed. I may never leave my apartment again.”
“You? I’m sitting at my desk with a hard-on the likes of which I haven’t seen since puberty. If I had known this was how I would start my day, I would have locked the door and joined you. I almost did, but lately someone would have walked in, and everyone is pretty sure I’ve lost my mind already. Because of you I’m going to be late for my meeting. I want to appear excited about the project, but not this excited.”
Julia chuckled reluctantly, but she wasn’t coming out of hiding yet. “I spent the morning rehearsing how to tell you that I’m not interested in whatever you wrote on the card.”
“You didn’t open it?”
“No, I was trying to remain strong.”
This time he chuckled, and she threw the pillow across the room as if he were there to get hit by it. “It’s not funny. I don’t do stuff like this. I’m really a pretty boring person once you get to know me. You need a woman who . . . someone who . . .”
“Stop talking, Julia, and open the card.”
She sat up and did as he asked. Well, asked was putting it nicely. He was back to using the authoritative tone that made her want to defiantly stick her tongue out at him.
But not more than she wanted to know what he’d written. She tore the envelope open.
“Pick any dress you want and wear it for me tonight. We have a reservation at Le Loire at eight.”
Without thinking, she said, “I’m working tonight.”
“I already covered your shift.”
“You did what? Without even asking me?”
“The outcome was never in question.”
“It most certainly was . . . I mean . . . is.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven thirty.”
“I haven’t said yes.”
“If you’re not dressed for dinner I’ll assume you want to spend the evening alone with me . . . in your bed.”
“What if I’m not here?” she asked, desperately trying to regain control of the situation.
“I’ll find you. You can’t run from this, Julia, any more than I can. Go to the address on the card and get yourself something nice. On me. Something you know I’ll enjoy taking off you as much as you’ll enjoy wearing.” He hung up.
Julia held up the business card of a small, elite boutique on the Upper East Side.
I would tell myself that I’m not going dress shopping today, but I am really bad at saying no to this man.
*
Two hours later, Julia was craning her neck to see how the back of the sleeveless floor-length black gown she was modeling shimmered in the changing-room mirror. She would have gone out into the main area, but she didn’t want to talk to the clerk. Talking about the dress meant she was actually doing this. She was letting a rich man buy her a dress, take her out, and then most likely take her home.
She wasn’t ready to defend that choice yet.
But she had to admit, the dress fit her perfectly.
If she was the kind of girl who did something this spontaneous, this was definitely how she’d dress to do it.
The light caught the gemstones in her gold necklace and brought its floral design to life. It wasn’t an overly expensive piece, but she’d used real metals to make it. She’d worn it to help her remember what was really important. Family. Duty. Finding a buyer and going home to save her father’s company.
She spun in front of the mirror.
This was nothing more than a distraction from that.
But what a wonderfully magical distraction it was.
She and her parents had always lived a modest life. Even when business had been good, her parents hadn’t been the type to care about material things. She’d grown up in a beach town, spending most of her free time in the summers on the beach in a bikini and shorts, or serving ice cream to tourists. During cooler weather, she’d holed up in her jewelry workshop, which her father had created for her at his furniture factory. It didn’t matter to him that it didn’t make sense to do it. He’d done it for her. Just like he’d added a jewelry section to his showroom floor. Not because it was good for business, but because he thought she was talented and her work deserved to be displayed.
Oh, Dad.
Is this how you felt when you met Mom? Or am I making the biggest mistake of my life?
I know I should walk away from this situation, but I can’t.
I want to see him again.
The clerk’s voice rose and broke into her thoughts. “Mrs. Rockport. I didn’t know you were coming in today. I’d close the boutique for you now, but I have a woman in the back trying on some dresses.”
An older woman’s voice answered curtly, “As long as she’s not some simpering, preening fool I’m sure I’ll be able to overlook her presence.”
“Yes, Mrs. Rockport. Yvonne isn’t here today. Are you looking for something off the rack?”
“If she were here I would already have a glass of champagne in my hand. Not that she carries the good stuff, but it’s the courtesy that matters.” After a brief pause, the older woman said, “What are you waiting for? Go get one.”
Crotchety old bitch.