Tempting Him by Isabel Lucero
27
A monthafter opening up to Jay about my past, and he’s still willing to be with me in the only way we can be—secretly and without the promise of much more than sex and a quasi relationship that might look weird to anyone but us.
We keep things at work professional, and he’s been doing exceptionally well. According to the marketing managers, he’s in the top three of the group, which means he’d likely be offered a job here once it’s all said and done.
Thinking about that makes my stomach knot up. The idea of him having a job here just really solidifies that his life is here and mine is in Chicago. I’m actually heading back in four weeks and this will officially come to an end.
Our relationship, if you will, has developed into a little more than just sex. We hang out in my room, watching TV and laughing. We’ve shared numerous meals together, but only in my suite, and he’s gotten me back down to the pool a couple more times.
He hasn’t brought up the fact that I still haven’t kissed him or taken him in my mouth, and it honestly makes me like him even more. It’s not normal. I’m aware of that. So the fact that he’s been able to move past that says a lot, probably more than he realizes.
When we sleep, we touch each other now. He’ll either end up under my arm and on my chest, or I’ll have an arm draped over his torso as we lay side by side.
Tonight, he’ll be spending time with his friends, because usually we’re holed up in my hotel, and his friends have been asking questions.
“You sure you don’t want to come?” he asks, resting his chin on my shoulder as I stand in front of the sink.
I laugh. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.”
“My friends are cool, though.”
“Your friends are going to be confused if we show up together. Plus, you’re supposed to be hanging out with them, not me.”
His arm snakes around my waist before his hand reaches for my crotch. “But I don’t get to do this with them.”
I finish washing the vegetables I’m about to cook and shut the water off, spinning to face him. “And let's make sure it stays that way, hm? But you know I’ll be here when you’re done.”
“But you actually have groceries in here and you’re about to cook. I should help you eat.”
I smile as I study his face. “I’ll save you some.”
He groans. “Fine. I’ll go have fun without you.”
I grab his wrist as he moves to step away. “Hey. You know I’d go if the situation was different.”
He slips his hand in mine and smiles. “I know. I’m just giving you a hard time.” He winks and struts toward our bedroom.
My bedroom.
Before he leaves, he stops back in the kitchen, smelling like citrus, mint, and cedarwood. My favorite cologne of his. I give him a onceover, hating how good he looks before going out to a club where every person with eyes will be staring and trying to get with him.
“Maybe I’ve changed my mind. I think I should tie you to the bed and never let you leave.”
He grins. “I’ll tell you now, I will develop Stockholm syndrome.”
“Have fun.”
Jay leans in and kisses my neck. “I’ll talk to you later.”
I watch him leave and hate the empty feeling I have once he’s gone. When he’s here, his personality and presence fills the space with joy and light. Now it just feels quiet and dark, and I’ve started to realize I feel his absence more and more each time he leaves. I’ve gotten too used to him, but I’m selfish enough to keep him around even though I know how it’ll end.
After I finish making and eating dinner, I wash the dishes and then put on the news while I do some work. It feels like several hours have gone by before I check the time, but it’s only been two.
By ten o’clock, I’m bored out of my mind, now used to always having someone to talk to, whether he’s here or texting me. We’ve spent so much time on the phone before that he may as well have been here with me.
I take a hot shower then get in bed, knowing Jay would make fun of me for going to sleep before midnight. I told him eventually you get to the point where staying up late for no reason just doesn’t make sense. Then he usually gave me a reason to stay up late, because he’d strip naked and make it impossible to even think of sleep.
My phone trills from the nightstand next to me, startling me out of unconsciousness. I squint at the clock, trying to figure out how long I’ve been out. It’s almost two in the morning.
“Hello?”
“Hey!” Jay exclaims loudly, dragging the word out. “I’ve been trying to text you.”
“Are you okay?” I ask, sitting up.
“M’fine,” he says, mashing the words together.
“Sounds like you had fun.”
“I miss you.”
I chuckle. “It’s been very quiet and boring here without you.”
“So, you miss me too.”
I shake my head, a grin on my lips. “Where are you? Did you make it home?”
“No. I’m still out.”
Multiple voices in the background blare through the phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Who are you talking to?”
“Leave me alone,” Jay tells them. “I was trying to have privacy.”
“In a bathroom? Are you having phone sex?”
“Everyone is starting to leave. Do you want me to call you an Uber? Or is your boyfriend gonna come get you?”
I hear Jayden laugh. “Boyfriend,” he says drunkenly, addressing me. “Do you want to come get me from the bar orrrrr should I get a ride from someone else? Not that I want to ride anyone but you.”
“Hey, hey,” a voice in the background says. “TMI, but excuse me? Are you committed?”
“What the fuck is this? Trev, do you know this boyfriend of Jay’s?”
“I’ll get you,” I tell him. “Where are you?”
“Um. Lily Pad.”
“Okay. Keep your phone on you. I’ll call when I’m there.”
“Kay. Thanks. You’re the best.”
Loud conversations start up and I end the call, throwing on some clothes and grabbing my keys. After putting the name of the bar in my GPS, it takes me fifteen minutes to get there.
When I pull up alongside the curb, I spot the logo on the sign on the building—a rainbow colored frog sitting on a lily pad. Based on some of the patrons exiting the building, a few of which are coupled up, it would be safe to assume it’s a gay bar.
I call Jay’s phone and wait for him to answer, but he doesn’t pick up. I try another time but it goes to voicemail. Before I’m about to step out, my phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Hey, this is one of Jay’s friends. Are you his ride?”
“Yeah. I’m outside.
“Okay. He’s pretty drunk and back at the bar. We’ll get him out there in a minute.”
“Okay.”
The call ends abruptly and a couple minutes later, Jay emerges with his usual wide smile. Another guy who matches Jay’s size has an arm around him as he walks him out.
I roll the window down slightly and Jay’s voice floats in. “Yeah, that’s the car.” He runs up to the window and peeks in. His eyes are low and red, but he’s cheerful. “Hey, you made it.”
The muscular guy with bronze skin and dark hair approaches Jay. “You good?”
“Yep. Thanks. I had fun.”
The guy snorts and opens the door for Jay. A blonde man walks over to join them. “This the boyfriend?”
“No,” Jay replies. “A friend.”
He gives each of them a fist bump, but the blonde says, “You said boyfriend on the phone.”
“Nice car,” the bigger one says.
Then like I thought would happen, they both bend down enough to peek inside. It’s dark inside the car, but the bigger of the two seems to be sober and something flashes in his eyes as Jay climbs into the passenger seat.
“Oh shit. Mr. Missionary,” he whispers, glancing back to Jay. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
A trilling sound from Jay’s lips turns into a full blown laugh. “No! We gotta go.”
His friend points at him. “We’re gonna talk about this later.”
The blonde grabs his hand. “Come on, babe. Let’s go home.”
Once Jay closes the door, he sinks into the seat. “I’m sorry.”
“Seatbelt. Who is Mr. Missionary?”
He struggles to fasten the belt as he laughs. “You.”
“Me?” I ask, helping him buckle it.
“It’s a long story.”
I start driving and he shifts, resting his hand on my thigh. “I want to fuck you so bad right now.”
“I think you’re too drunk to do anything.”
“Never,” he says with a laugh. “I’m still young enough to be able to drink and get hard.”
“I want to know about this missionary thing.”
“That was Dom. He works at the bar we met at. He saw me walk over to you. He said you looked old and boring.”
“Old and boring?”
“Maybe I’m paraphrasing, but he said you probably only fuck in the missionary position. Then you went and fucked me on the balcony. If only he knew.”
I shake my head as his hand keeps inching toward my cock. “I really did miss you though.”
“I doubt it,” I say with a laugh. “But I’m glad you had fun.”
“I was just trying to forget you’re leaving soon. Hey, are you coming to my graduation?”
The shift in topics has my head spinning. “I don’t know. I didn’t plan on it. How would we explain that?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
He keeps touching me, and every time I glance at him, he’s watching me with a drunken grin.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re really fucking hot,” he states. “Like, so beautiful it makes no sense.”
“I think you’re really drunk.”
“Yes, but it’s true. I really like you, you know?” He sighs, turning to look out the window.
I hesitantly put my hand on top of his as it rests on my thigh. His head swivels to look at me, but I keep my eyes on the road.
“You like me too.”
My only response is to give his hand a small squeeze.
