The intense, lush memories of carnality give way to something else now, something warmer, more intimate than even sex. The articulate and determined way he talks about food to me, as if I were an equal rather than his employee, the way he respects my opinion, even if we disagree, arguing as if it genuinely matters to him what I think. I remember the way he opened up to me at the beach, exposing his wounds and trusting me to treat them carefully.
In this hotel room, listening to the sound of hot water against his body, I realize that he’s not just my hot boss anymore. No longer just a beautiful man with whom I share some physical connection. Irresistible lust, uncontrollable hungers, and alluring seductions might have led us so far, but now there’s more to it. Something meaningful. And I know from experience that sex isn’t that good unless there’s something deeper going on.
I pad over to the window, still naked, and admire the view, the cool blue light picking out the edges of a few clouds. The sparkling city of Las Vegas empty and asleep still, dormant and recuperating until the neon will be ignited and lead thousands of people to its lavish enchantments once again.
The nagging thought that I managed to ignore throughout yesterday and last night emerges again in the clarity of the moment. Maybe I should tell Cole about Tony and our restaurant? Maybe he’ll actually be happy for me. Maybe he’ll understand that I’ve got too many ideas of my own to cook for anybody else—except no. Every time I try to visualize the moment I tell him, I can’t imagine him smiling with happiness. His story about being betrayed by his closest friend, the way he confessed he doesn’t trust anybody, the fact that I was the first chef he allowed Martin to hire for him…I can only imagine that face going as hard and as cold as it did when he pulled me out of the kitchen the first time we met.
Besides, I’m sure the new place isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, no matter how enthusiastic and optimistic Tony is about it. Nobody gets to just start their own restaurant based on a single investor’s meeting with some random guys they know nothing about. There’s no reason to stir things up just yet. I have a little more time to enjoy this thing with Cole, whatever this is.
I move through the suite to the bathroom, find the door ajar, and push it aside. Cole’s shadow plays behind the frosted glass like a kabuki show. Even in the hazy shadow the broadness of his arms as he scrubs his hair can be seen, the sculpted ‘V’ of his torso impossibly mouthwatering.
Now that I’m this close I can hear him hum, out of tune, some Rolling Stones song that I can’t quite remember, but he does it with such conviction I can’t help finding it funny. I lean up against the doorway and enjoy the show a little, until he pulls off what I think is meant to be a dance move and my quick giggle gives me away.
“Hey!” he says in surprise, sliding the shower door aside and looking at me through the steam. “How long you been standing there?”
“Long enough to know never to go to karaoke with you.”
“Is that so?” Cole flicks water from his eyes and reaches out, pulling me by the hand under the hot stream. I shriek playfully and find myself pressed up against him, the water rolling down our faces as I look up at him.
“Maybe we could duet,” I grin.
“I’m counting on it.”
“I’ll bet you are.”
Our wet lips crash together, as fluid as the water. His body hot and pumped against my sleep-cooled blood. We press our skin together, like two slow dancers in the hot rain, until I feel his desire rise, pressing between my thighs.
“Waiting for you to wake up has been the hardest part of my day so far,” he murmurs into my ear.
“Well this has been the hardest part of mine,” I whisper back, wrapping my hand around his cock, my insides turning hot and liquid as he groans in my ear.
“Turn around and put your hands on the wall,” he commands. “It’s about to get a lot harder.”
When I arrive back in front of my apartment in L.A., in the middle of the night, even the small carry-on bag I took with me feels like it’s full of bricks. I don’t know whether it was the workload, the late flight (we missed the early one, in a post-coital slumber so deep we slept through both of our alarms), or the fact that we must have worked through half the kama sutra, but I’m shattered when I mount the steps and push open the door to my apartment.
I hear Asha’s thumping feet before I’ve even shut the door.
“Oooh!” she says, emerging from her room in a bathrobe to hug me tightly before pulling back. “Girl, I missed you!”
“I’ve only been gone for two days.”
“Sure, but I had a craving for pecan pie last night that drove me crazy.”
I stop while Asha steps back and studies me carefully from head to toe, meeting my gaze again with a raised eyebrow.
“Mm-hm,” she says as if confirming something.
“What?” I say, looking down at my jeans and T-shirt.
“Girl, you look like you’ve been fucked, fed, and flexed.”
I laugh a little tiredly.
“What?”
“I was gonna ask if it was a good time—but I can see by your face that it was. That little rosy color in your cheeks, that little sass you have now when you stand. You look about five years younger—and I know that’s not what a work trip is supposed to do.”
“Um…yeah,” I say, shrugging with a little embarrassment, a little blush at being reminded of the ‘work trip.’ “I guess you’re right.”
Asha laughs eagerly and takes my bag while I move into the living room and let my tired body fall onto a seat.
“Thanks,” I say, as Asha returns from the kitchen and hands me a bottle of water, almost licking her lips with anticipation before sitting on the couch, directing her entire body in my direction, unwilling to miss a word.
“So?” she says. “Go on. How was it?”
I take a deep sip of water and look up at the wall as I try to find the words, a decent point to start at.
“It was…fantastic.”
“Oooh!” Asha squeals, tucking her feet up under her and leaning toward me even more eagerly.
“I mean, it’s hard to believe that it was only two days. It feels like we’ve just spent a month together. I…it was just…really great.”
“Wow…” Asha says, smiling warmly.
“I mean the restaurant is amazing, the food he’s planning is incredible, and it was really awesome helping him decide on—”
“Pfft! I don’t wanna hear about the work! I wanna hear about you two! Did you…”
“Yeah, we did,” I say after a little pause. “In the hotel suite, on the floor, in the shower.” Asha’s eyes widen. “In the back of the new space, the public bathroom of this classy bar…”
“Whoa,” Asha says, fanning herself a little. “Did you even get a chance to talk?”
“Oh yeah. We talked about everything. Food, ourselves, what we want out of life…”
Well, I mostly told Cole what I wanted out of life—leaving out a few key details when I mentioned my ‘future’ dream restaurant. I trail off into silence and start chewing my lower lip as the nagging reminder of Tony’s recent hustling and our maybe-possibly-but-probably-not-about-to-happen restaurant comes flashing into my brain. There’s no way it’s going to happen. Not this soon. But if it did, and I kept it from Cole this whole time…no. I can’t afford to think that way. The chances of it all coming together so fast are basically nil.