Third Life - Noelle Adams Page 0,18
makes a loud, wordless exclamation as he jerks clumsily a few final times. Then I feel him coming too. I feel the shaking of his contractions. I see the flood of pleasure on his face. He’s pushing into me hard, and it aches.
Aches good. Deep. Real.
When he’s ridden out the last of his climax and I’ve collapsed back onto the bed, he pulls out carefully. He stays still for a minute, poised on his knees, one hand holding the condom in place.
I don’t know what he’s doing. What he’s feeling. Why he isn’t moving.
“Okay?” I rasp.
“Yeah.” He lets out his breath in a rush. Then he turns to me and smiles. “Yeah. Better than okay.”
I grin up at him like an idiot. “I thought so too.”
He goes to the bathroom to take care of the condom and wash up, and I do a quick check of the sheet.
I’m sore. Really sore. But I didn’t bleed.
He won’t know. He doesn’t have to know. This is just a night. I don’t have to strip myself naked before him.
It can just be what it is.
When he returns to the bed, he’s cool and poised again but still smiling. “What did you think of your first time?”
I freeze. “My first time?”
He frowns in confusion. “With a stranger. Your first one-night stand.”
“Oh. Yeah. Of course. It was really good. Way better than I ever dreamed it would be. And that’s thanks to you. I really appreciate you being so thoughtful and careful.”
He gives a half shrug. He’s gotten under the covers beside me, and he’s turned on his side to face me. “Any decent guy would do that.”
“Maybe. I hope so. But a lot of guys aren’t decent. So thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Although I don’t know why you should thank me when I had an incredible time.” He glances over at the clock. “It’s not even midnight. Your one-night stand doesn’t have to be over yet.”
I bite my bottom lip. I’m way too sore right now for more sex. I’ll have to tell him.
“We can get something to eat if you want. More champagne?” He reaches over for the phone on the nightstand with a questioning look.
I giggle in relief. “That sounds great. No reason for the one-night stand to end before the night is over.”
As he calls down to room service, I lay in a pleased, sated sprawl.
It’s strange. I thought once this happened, I would feel like a different person. Like I’d have a different life. And part of me doesn’t recognize this woman who’s in bed with a man like Richard.
Most of me I recognize, however. I’m still Gillian Meadowbrook. Smart and focused and invisible to most of the world.
But maybe not to everyone.
And maybe not all the time.
Richard sees me right now, and I’m going to enjoy that reality until morning.
Three
IT’S LATE THE FOLLOWING morning when I finally wake up. I don’t know exactly what time it is, but it’s bright in the room.
Richard’s room. I never made it back to mine last night.
I stretch out under the covers, feeling pleased and leisurely and even enjoying the slight pang of soreness between my legs when I move in a certain way. The bed still smells like Richard—and a little bit like sex. His side is rumpled but empty, with the indentation from his head still left on the pillow.
I’ve just noticed this when I hear his voice.
He’s at the door of the room, out of sight of the bed, and he’s talking to someone. I’m too drowsy to figure out who it might be until he suddenly appears from the short entry hall, wheeling a room service cart.
“Ah!” I say, sitting up at the sight of food. And particularly that pot of coffee.
I drank a lot of champagne last night. Not enough to make me feel terrible this morning, but I have a little hint of a headache, and my mouth is overly dry. Fortunately, it’s nothing that water and coffee won’t take care of.
Richard smiles when he sees me awake. He put on a pair of gray sleep pants after we had sex last night, and that’s all he’s wearing right now. His hair is slightly ruffled but not too much of a mess. He needs to shave.
He looks absolutely scrumptious.
His scrumptiousness is not enough to distract me from the coffee he’s pouring. I do have my priorities in order.
“How do you like it?” he asks.
“Just a little cream.” I accept the mug he hands me and try to get