Tom’s suite is amazing.  It seems to be all wainscoting and soft, muted neutral colors.  There’s an actual chandelier hanging in the middle, and a fireplace toward the far side. 

“I was just excited that my room had a mini fridge.” I joke as Tom closes the door behind him. He laughs and shrugs off his jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair that looks like it cost more than all the furniture combined in my apartment.  We had been quiet on the ride over from the diner.  We both knew what we were doing, but this felt a little different than any of the other times.  We hadn’t exactly planned it, but we’d both agreed on it rather quickly.  It was beginning to feel more and more less like one night stands and more like…friends with benefits.  Or something like that.

“It’s not always like this.  I feel like some sort of politician, being in Washington DC, staying in this fancy room.” He starts to loosen his tie. I take a half step toward him.

“What does that make me then?” I ask softly, and then I reach up and take the tie from him.  He freezes and let’s me slowly undo the knot from it.  It’s a dark red, silk tie.  I slowly undo the knot and then pull it gently from around his neck.  Tom watches me, only his eyes moving, and then he slowly licks his lips.

“You can be whatever you’d like.” He says, his voice quiet and rough. He reaches down and takes the tie from my hands, and runs it slowly through his larger ones.  Oh. About a thousand ideas pop into my mind as I watch him wrap it around his hand. 

“I could be your naughty little intern or I could be your power hungry boss who’s just begging for…” I trail off as I step toward him.  Tom clears his throat, looking a bit shocked.

“It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch out for.” He mumbles with a laugh.  I laugh and then shove him backward.  The moment has passed, and I sigh and plop down on the edge of the bed.

“Sorry, I’m not very good at dirty talk.” I say with a laugh, running my hands over the soft folds of my dress.  Tom leans against the dresser and takes a deep breath.

“No, no, you’re fine…you’re quite…good.” He says softly, looking somewhat uncomfortable.  I think I may be doing this all wrong.  If we are going to hook up, I’m not sure we should be talking quite so much.  I think we are just supposed to be tearing each other’s clothes off, with wild abandon. 

“Are we…do you want to…” I am bumbling around my words now, and I’m pretty sure I should just slink back to my own hotel, like the total nerd that I am.  Tom stays standing across the room, his head tilted ever so slightly.  He’s looking at me like I’m some sort of odd, never before seen creature.  Take a picture, dude. 

“Gracie.” He says my name, and I blink.  When he says my name is does weird things to me.  Maybe I should ask him to call me Jamie again instead.

“Yes?”

“Are you still in love with Richard?”His question surprises me.  I feel my hands grab bunches of the filmy material of my dress.

“No.” I shake my head.  Tom nods and then leans down and starts taking off his shoes.  “Those are nice shoes.” I add softly.

“I like how good you are at avoiding talking about anything personal.” He looks up at me from his crouched position, one eyebrow raised.  I purse my lips and then hop off the bed.  It really is a hop, because it is a huge bed.  I walk over, stopping in front of Tom, who is finishing untying his shoe. 

“It’s easier that way.” I say quietly. He stands then, coming to his full height, and I’m suddenly nose-to-chest.  I forget how tall he is. How imposing when he wants to be.  I swallow, and then raise my chin slightly to see his face.  He’s looking down at me, over the slope of his nose, his eyes unreadable.

“What if I don’t want easy?” He asks.  His voice is like some kind of spell.  I’m hypnotized. 

“I’ll answer any questions you have.  I just don’t like talking about myself.” I answer.  He moves forward, widening his stance so I am standing practically within the wall of his body.  I can see the slow, steady way he’s breathing.  I can smell that perfect, intoxicating mixture of his skin and whatever the hell cologne it is he’s wearing.  He always seems to be wearing.

“May I kiss you?” His voice is steady, careful.  I nod, but I don’t say anything.  He already knows he has permission.  Tom leans down and I feel his hand come up to cup my face. 

It is not our first kiss.  It’s far from our first kiss.  But the way his lips brush against mine, and then come down in a dizzying rush, it feels like a first kiss.  Sweet but urgent and needy.  Addicting.  I melt against him, and Tom pulls me to him, my arms crushed against his chest.  He’s warm, solid and unyielding. 

“May I take off your shoes?” He breaks the kiss, murmuring into my ear as he kisses it, and then the side of my neck.  I nod again, and then Tom is holding my hips and kneeling down ever so slowly in front of me. He kisses my throat and chest as he does, his lips moving down between my breasts, kissing the skin that is bare. I steady myself against his shoulders, then push my hands through his hair.  I’ve been wanting to touch him like this all night.

He kisses his way down my stomach, kissing through the soft, gauzy fabric of my dress, his hands grabbing big handfuls as he works his way down.  He kneels down completely in front of me, and reaches down, his hand coming to my bare ankle.  I waver at his feather light touch, and he runs his hand down the back of my ankle and slips my heel off.  I come down about four inches, and then he does the same to my other foot, tossing the shoe to the side. 

Tom stays kneeling in front of me, then looks down, his hand disappearing under the long hem of my dress.  I close my eyes as I feel his hand against my ankle again.  I lean into him as he moves his hand up my leg, up the back of my calf and lingers on the soft skin at the back of my knee.  I shiver against him, and he presses his mouth against my hip.  His hand moves up farther, past my knee and then to the sensitive skin on my inner thigh. 

I am completely lost. I am aching in ways I didn’t know were possible.  He is going slow, taking his time, and I am beginning to wonder if this is some sort of dream.  I grab onto his shoulders, pushing my hands against his shirt, and then lightly scratching my nails down, which makes him moan into my stomach.  He runs his hand up farther, finally touching me between my legs, over my panties.  Thank god I didn’t opt for the granny panties tonight.  I shift slightly, feeling his hands slide over me as I am pretty sure I am going to black out any second.

Without speaking, Tom slips his other hand under my dress, up my thighs, and then slides my panties down in one quick, easy movement.  Holy hell. 

He finds the high cut in my dress, pushing the material open and aside like a curtain, and I’m suddenly somehow standing both fully clothed and entirely bare in front of him. 

“God, you’re gorgeous.” He looks up at me, and I feel the blood rush up my chest to my face.  I shake my head, smiling.

“Don’t.  Don’t say that.  You’re…” I pause and cover my mouth with my hand for a moment.  “Normal men don’t say that.” I laugh.  Tom shifts on his knees, and then reaches up, covering me with his big hand.  I sway, then lean into him, unable to help myself.

“They don’t? What do they say?” He challenges with a smile.  His hand is teasing me, and god, what is he doing with his thumb?

“Not t-that.” My breath hitches and I have to grab onto him. 

“Darling, I’m just saying what I’m thinking.  Well, about 78% of what I’m thinking.  I don’t want to scare you.” He grins, and then slides one long, perfect finger inside of me.  I feel a humming start within me, a buzz that is delicious and foreign, and making me forget my own name.  It as if he can hear that same wonderful buzzing, as it gets louder, and as I can barely stand, Tom leans forward, pressing his mouth against me.  He takes my leg, pulling it over his shoulder and then holds onto my hips, steadying me.

I’m honestly not sure what happens after that, but I know it ends with me lying shaking on the floor, and Tom grinning wildly like some mad man.