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Gentleman Nine by Penelope Ward (12)

CHAPTER TWELVE


AMBER

 

 

“I still can’t get over the fact it was Channing all along.”

“You and me both, Annabelle. You and me both.”

Balancing the cordless phone on my shoulder, I picked out clothes for Saturday, packing them away in a small travel bag.

The outfit I’d chosen consisted of a little black skirt and a nude-colored shirt with black lace overlay that always made my tits look really good. The fact that it was Rory’s favorite shirt was my little secret “fuck you” to my ex.

“I swear,” she said. “I could write a book about your life in the past month, and it would sell like hotcakes. And we haven’t even gotten to the good part.”

Throwing some sleep shorts into the bag, I said, “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. I always said I didn’t want to get involved with Channing, but technically this isn’t really getting involved. It’s just sex.”

“I think the whole thing is sexy as hell. Not only was he trying to protect you, but he decided he wanted to be the man to do the job. My only question is…do you think you’ll be able to compartmentalize? I know you care about him. Can you really handle this?”

Deep down, I was worried. But I still didn’t want to deny myself this opportunity. It had simply been too long since I’d been with a man, and I was too weak to resist.

“He cares about me, too, but this is supposed to be separate from that fact. What happens in the hotel room, stays there. It sounds simple in theory, but I honestly don’t know how I’m going to feel once we actually do this. The truth is, for this to work, I need to learn to put aside my feelings and see this for what it is—two friends fulfilling a physical need for each other. He gets some thrill out of playing into this sordid hotel room fantasy. And I get what I’ve always wanted since he moved here, which is to experience having sex with him. This whole thing—my contacting the escort service—really started because of my attraction to him, which put me into this sexual frenzy in the first place. I just never expected that he felt something, too.”

“Just go with the flow. You’ve had a rough year. You’re still young. You don’t need to be in another relationship. Let Channing give you exactly what you need before he goes back to Chicago. And don’t let your worries ruin a good thing.”

 

***

 

We planned to meet at The Peabody at 3PM. He’d left me a note on my dresser while I was in the shower.

 

I’ll head over to the hotel first, get us a room, and I’ll text you the room number. Wear the pink thong you bought. I’ve been thinking about you in it ever since I picked it up off the grass on the Common.

 

The muscles between my legs clenched. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that Channing desired me when he could basically have anyone he wanted—including Emily. I still had no clue what was going on with the latter.

The Saturday morning breakfast run-in with him in the kitchen had been different than normal, to say the least. We’d sat in silence, drinking our coffees, but the weight of a thousand unsaid words loomed in the air.

Channing’s hair had been wet. His tight, white t-shirt stretched across his muscles. My eyes had been glued to his strong forearms every time he’d lift the coffee mug to his mouth—his sexy mouth. I still couldn’t believe that body would be hovering over me later, that he would be inside of me. It truly seemed surreal.

And then I’d caught him staring at me and suspected he must have been thinking the same thing. The lust in his eyes was palpable, and I was sure I must have looked the same to him, because I’d never felt like my desire for him was more obvious than that moment. It was one thing to want someone. It was another to want them, knowing you would actually get to have them.

He left after breakfast, and I didn’t see him for the rest of the day.

When 2:45 rolled around, I anxiously checked my phone for a text from him. A few minutes later, it came.

 

Channing: I’m in Room 248. Take your time. I’ll be here waiting whenever you’re ready.

 

Despite the feeling that I was forgetting something, I grabbed my bag and forced myself out the door.

By the time I approached The Peabody, the butterflies in my stomach had turned frantic.

Goosebumps covered my arms as I made my way to the elevator up to the second floor.

The elevator dinged open, and my heart was racing as I walked down the long hallway in a fog. I knew I’d be nervous, but my anxiety was much higher than I’d anticipated the closer I got to the room.

After knocking lightly, I took a deep breath in and waited.

When he opened the door, Channing flashed his beautiful grin and moved aside for me to enter. Immediately, his cologne infiltrated my senses as I felt my body temperature rise.

My legs felt wobbly. I guess you really don’t know how you’re going to feel about something until it was about to happen. Suddenly, all of the self-doubt started to creep in at this inopportune moment.

What if I suck, and he doesn’t want to do it again?

What if he doesn’t like my body?

What if I come too fast or not at all because I’m nervous?

I immediately ventured over to the window. While a part of me was tempted to jump, I stared down at the busy Boston traffic below. The faint sounds of life outside of the room were muffled by the beat of my own eardrum.

“You okay?” he asked from behind me.

I turned around and rubbed my clammy palms on my skirt. “Yeah, I think I just need some water.”

“How about water then some wine?”

“Even better.”

Alcohol sounded great right about now.

He opened a bottle of water then poured it into a glass for me. My armpits were sweating, and that became another worry. Had I worn enough deodorant?

I sipped my water and watched as he opened a bottle of cabernet that I knew was pricey.

“That’s an expensive bottle of wine, Lord.”

“Well, it’s not every day I have Amber Walton in a hotel room with me. It’s a special occasion.” He smiled, and that calmed me down a bit.

Channing handed me the glass then sat at the edge of the bed across from me, watching intently as I gulped the wine down. His stare made me shiver.

He looked so damn good. Everything was on point. His hair was slightly damp. He must have showered in the room right before I got there. He wore a collared shirt that was open slightly at the top, showcasing a few inches of his tanned chest. His dark jeans fit him perfectly, displaying a prominent bulge. Could he possibly have been hard already?

When my eyes made their way back up to his face, I could see he was still observing me.

“You look really beautiful.” His smile was almost enough to melt my nerves—almost.

“Thank you. I tried to pick something sexy for you.”

“I’ve been hard all morning, so you could’ve walked in wearing a paper bag, and I’d still need an ice pack.”

Despite my nerves, the confirmation that Channing was aroused made my body buzz with excitement.

Setting my now-empty wine glass down, I asked, “How exactly does this work? “Do we just start going at it or…”

His mouth curved into a smile. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what do we do?”

“We do what comes natural. You’re not ready to have sex right this second. I prefer it if the woman I’m with isn’t white knuckling her way through it.”

“You can tell I’m nervous?”

“Yes. And to be honest, if you weren’t, I’d be a little weirded out. It’s normal. I think it’s adorable how nervous you are, actually.”

“I wanted to tell you how nervous I was over coffee this morning, but I didn’t want to break the rules. You know, no talking about this at home.”

“Well, guess what?” He leaned in, and the feel of his breath on my skin put my body on alert. “I’m nervous, too, Amber. And you can tell me about what you’re feeling now. There are no rules in this room. None at all. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“A part of me wants to run out of here. But another part of me thinks you smell really damn good and wants to stay. So, yes, I’m nervous, but I still really do want this.”

He placed his hand on my knee, and it sent what felt like shockwaves up my spine. “You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think we should watch TV.”

“Watch TV? Surely, you didn’t just pay five hundred dollars for a hotel room so that we could watch television.”

“We have all afternoon and night. And if by the end of tonight, all you want to do is sleep next to me with no sex involved, that’s okay, too,” he said. Channing crawled to the top of the bed and began exaggeratedly fluffing the pillows. He kicked his feet back, put his hands behind his head, and let out a deep breath. “Ahh. This is so relaxing. You should try it.”

He closed his eyes. So much for our salacious rendezvous. I laughed, eventually getting up, crawling over to him, and joining him under the covers. The bed was firm, and the pillows were plush. My body sank into the Tempurpedic mattress.

He handed me the remote. “You get to choose what to watch. They have On Demand.”

“You’re gonna regret that decision, because I’ll just watch reality TV on Bravo.”

“I’ll survive.”

He asked for it. I immediately put on one of the Real Housewives episodes. It had been a while since I’d binge watched this show.

Channing and I settled into our respective pillows. He really made an effort to try to understand what he was watching. His questions were making me laugh.

“Do women actually act like this?”

“Not the women I know personally.”

“So, let me get this straight. Why do they all hate that one chick?”

“They just do.”

“I haven’t made out one word in the last five minutes. How can you understand what they’re saying if they’re all talking over each other?”

That cracked me up. “You don’t. You just watch.”

By pretending to be into my show, Channing had managed to make me forget all about my nerves from earlier. I’d nearly forgotten why we’d come here were it not for the fact that our bodies were ever so slowly molding closer and closer together in a natural way. The side of my leg was up against his, and the heat of his body was ever-present, but I was no longer nervous or stressed. His large foot gently rubbed against mine as we watched, the soft material of his sock caressing my bare foot. He was slowly easing me into things in his own way. It was working.

After nearly an hour passed, I wanted him to know that I hadn’t forgotten why we were here. In a brazen move, I slipped my top over my head, keeping my bra on.

He moved closer and whispered in my ear, “Are we playing strip poker, and I didn’t realize it?”

God, what just the feeling of his breath in my ear did to my body.

“I wanted to get more comfortable,” I said.

His eyes fell to my breasts that were spilling out of my pink, lace bra. My erect nipples tingled, yearning for his mouth on me.

When his eyes met mine again, I said, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.” He then placed his firm hand on my hip, and every inch of my body reacted to just that simple touch.

I looked down and could see that his erection was straining against his jeans. Knowing he was perpetually hard for me was perhaps the biggest turn on.

“That night when you told me about Gentleman Nine, you said you’ve fantasized about me since you were sixteen. I would’ve never thought that. I guess…I just don’t get it.”

His hand was still on my hip. Lightly squeezing my side, he said, “What don’t you get?”

“You never said anything or gave me any hints. I mean, I had no idea.”

“That’s because I was good at hiding it.”

“I know. But why? Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“Well, for one, you were my sister’s best friend. If I’d asked you out and fucked things up, I wouldn’t have forgiven myself, whether that happened before or after she…” He hesitated.

I didn’t want him to have to finish that sentence. “Yeah, I get it,” I said, placing my hand in his hair.

Channing closed his eyes for a moment as I ran my fingers through his thick, silky strands. He was so beautiful. It was odd to call a man beautiful, I suppose. But that was the best word to describe him. He was so beautiful to me, and I couldn’t believe I was freely touching him like this.

“So…why is this okay now, Channing? Our arrangement? I’m still that same person. Why is it okay to play around with each other like this now? I’m still me and you’re still you.”

“Because we have a mutual understanding of what we’d both be getting out of it. So, we can’t get hurt. Neither one of us is looking for a relationship, and we’re clear on that. When you’re a teenager, you’re too immature to make that kind of a decision.”

“Makes sense, I guess.” Since we were being honest, I said, “I’ve always had a massive crush on you, not just because of your looks but because of your personality, too. That’s kind of embarrassing to admit, but given I’m half-naked in bed with you right now, I guess I’ve made it clear how I feel anyway.”

He surprised me when he asked, “Why didn’t you say anything to me back then?”

“Would it have mattered? Everything you just said implies you wouldn’t have pursued me.”

“It might have changed things if I knew how you really felt. I mean, I know why I never said anything to you. Like I said, I had my reasons. But why didn’t you ever say anything to me? We spent a lot of time together.”

“I guess I was just old-fashioned and felt like the girl shouldn’t make a move. I even once told Rory I had a crush on you.” I laughed a little, recalling the time I admitted my crush on Channing to the guy who would eventually become my boyfriend.

Channing suddenly moved his hand off my hip. “You what?”

“Before he and I got together, I once told Rory that I liked you. It’s funny to think about that now, considering how things turned out.”

“What exactly did he say to that when you told him?”

I wasn’t sure whether to admit it. “He told me to be careful of you, that you’d hurt me.”

“Really…” His eyes narrowed “When was that? The conversation?”

He was upset.

I scratched my head in an attempt to remember. “Probably shortly before you left for UF.”

Channing suddenly sat up against the headboard. My revelation really seemed to piss him off. I could understand why he’d be mad. But I figured he’d understand why Rory would have warned me against him. Channing never hid his philandering ways back then. Rory was his friend, but at the time, Channing was a player. That was undeniable. Rory thought he was just looking out for my best interests.

When he continued not to say anything, I asked, “Are you okay?”

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