3. Jake

3

JAKE

" J ake? Any thoughts?"

I clear my throat, shaking off my thoughts. As I return to the room I'm in, I see a dozen faces looking at me, all waiting for my response.

"Kill the gold trim," I say, glaring at the rendering on the screen. "Other than that, it's fine. I approve."

The tension in the meeting room breaks, a flurry of papers rustling and chair wheels rolling as the members of my team disperse. I rise from my spot at the head of the conference table and exit the room, going straight to my corner office. Along the way, I detect a few people in my periphery vision looking like they want to talk to me, but they change their minds when they see my serious expression.

I close my office door behind me and settle into my chair, my body sinking against the leather. My muscles are faintly sore, but that's not the only thing that's kept the curvy beauty from last night at the front of my mind.

I just can't stop fucking thinking about her.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. It was supposed to be a one-time, one-night thing. It was supposed to fix me. Clear my head. Allow me to regain the razor-sharp focus at work that I never used to have a problem maintaining.

But after last night, fixed is the last thing I feel.

Slowly swiveling my chair to face the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the back of my office, I look out over the city and wonder where she is right now. It's not a sentimental curiosity. It's a carnal one. As many times as I had her last night, I feel nowhere close to satiated.

The fact that I know nothing about her but have been balls-deep inside her should probably make me feel like a shitty human being, but it doesn't. We were on the same page last night. It made it easy for both of us to be as uninhibited as we wanted to be.

I reach for my phone and open the app we originally found each other on. A notification pops up alerting me about how many women have swiped right on my profile since last night, but I ignore it and tap over to the chat tab. My screen populates with previews of different conversations, but all except for one are from ages ago.

I tap on my convo with Leta. The last exchange we had was from half an hour before we met at the Belmont, sent by her: See you soon , with a smiling emoji.

It takes me a long time to decide what to say to her. Eventually I settle on: Just making sure you got home safely last night.

I set my phone down, and a few minutes later, her reply comes through.

Erm…well…I'm currently being held captive on a spaceship, so…

She's a funny one, this girl.

Me: It's amazing that you still have cell reception out in space.

Her: I know, right? Even wilder, they didn't even confiscate my phone.

I run a hand over my jaw, trying to decide how bad of an idea it is to tell her I want to see her again. There are countless other women I could hook up with on this app. It would be far cleaner that way, keeping it to one night.

But I'm not interested in meeting up with anyone else.

Me: I know we had an understanding about last night. But I want to see you again.

Her: To be clear…you mean for another night like last night, right?

Me: Yes.

Her: Ok. Just making sure.

Me: Is that something you're interested in?

Her: Um…yes. But I'm kind of tied up right now with this whole alien thing.

Me: Well, if you can get yourself back to Earth by seven, I'll have a hotel room waiting for us.

That evening, when I arrive at the Belmont, I'm informed by the receptionist that my wife has already checked us in and is upstairs in our room with the key cards.

I stare at the receptionist for a second, then breathe out a laugh.

"Right," I say. "My wife."

Upstairs, standing outside of our room, I rap my knuckles against the door. The door pops open and Leta's smiling face appears.

"Hi," she says.

"You think you're real cute, don't you?" I say, pushing my way in. I shoulder the door closed behind me and pin her against the wall.

"No, just a little cute," she says, trying and failing to bite back a grin.

The next hour passes in a filthy blur, starting with me tearing off her clothes and ending with the two of us lying naked in a disarray of bedsheets, our bodies sticky with sweat and multiple tied-off condoms flung into the hotel trash bin. Leta's plump ass is still red from how hard I was gripping it while I fucked her from behind. She's a marvel, this woman. Eager to learn, indeed.

"Food?" I ask, still catching my breath.

"Mmm," she says, a tired smile spreading on her face. "Food. Yes."

Before our dinner comes, I toss her one of the plush robes from the bathroom and throw on the other one. I get it tied closed just as room service knocks on our door. Leta and I eat in bed, just as we did last night.

"So, how was your day?" Leta asks as she pops a crouton into her mouth.

I look up from my steak to give her a long look. "You really want to talk about our days?"

She smiles back. "You really want to sit here in silence?"

"Silence is golden," I point out.

"Except, apparently, when it comes to dirty talk."

That gets a laugh out of me. "Once again, the whole point of us being here is?—"

"Oh my God. I know ," she groans. "But why can't we also have some normal conversation, just for, you know, the enjoyment of it?"

"I spend all day having conversations."

"What about?"

If she thinks I don't see what she's doing, she severely underestimates me.

"Work," I say simply. I glance at her plate, impatient for her to finish. "You almost done?"

"Nope." She starts winding her fork through her pasta. Extremely slowly. "What kind of work do you do?"

I can tell this is a battle I'm going to lose. If I'm not going to get out of talking, I may as well make it less painful.

"It would be more interesting if you told me what you do."

She continues to coil her pasta. "I run a nonprofit tutoring center. It's an after-school resource for any kids who need it."

I don't know what I expected her to say, but it wasn't that.

"And it's going well?" I ask.

"We've helped a lot of kids. I might have to uproot the center and relocate soon, so that's a pain, but yes. In terms of doing what I set out to do, it's going great."

"Why the potential move?"

"My landlord is hiking up the rent. I really don't want to move, but it's looking more and more inevitable." She shakes her head. "We can talk about something else. I know it's very unsexy, talking about money woes."

If I was a more compassionate man, I'd say something empathetic in response. I'd offer encouragement, tell her to keep her hopes up, something like that. But I've never done the being-sweet thing well. Sympathetic words always crumble on my tongue.

And so my inadequate response is to push my plate closer to her and say, "Here. Take some of my fries."

After we finish eating, I get Leta to straddle my face so I can eat out her —and as with everything we've done in this hotel room, she's not shy about trying something new. It pleases me, getting to see her lose herself in the pleasure as she rocks back and forth against my tongue, her thick thighs trembling against me. When she comes, frantically grinding against my flattened tongue, it's so fucking hot that I nearly blow my load.

"Oh, God ," she moans, her pussy pulsing as she recovers. I hold her in place and lick her slowly, savoring the taste of her pretty cunt. I might have initially been irritated at her lack of experience, but as it turns out, I like that I'm the only man who's done this to her. I like that I get to open this part of the world for her. It's an ego stroke to play that role.

When she tries to slide off my face, I grab her firmly by the hips and yank her back.

"I'm not done with you yet."

"I want you inside me," she begs.

I lick her creamy slit. "I've got you addicted to my cock, haven't I?"

She moans her response.

"Needy little thing." I roll her onto her back and push her knees against her tits. She pants with anticipation, her cheeks rosy and her eyes full of heat. She's so fucking pretty. I'm so utterly taken by her in that moment that I almost unthinkingly slide my cock into her bare.

Then common sense smacks me in the back of the head and I reach for a condom to wrap up the raging hard-on I'm sporting. When I slide into her, her tight pussy squeezing needfully around me, it washes away all my worries in the world.