I don’t even remember falling asleep, but waking up with Talia in my arms is something I hope never to forget and will be something that is often repeated… as in for the rest of my life. I can’t believe I’m thinking this way, but I cannot ignore my heart.

True to my word, I let her fall asleep last night instead of taking her again, but waking up with her in my arms, I can’t resist. I snake my hand between her legs in search of her incredibly sensitive nub. Slowly, I start circling the bundle of nerves applying only light pressure. Talia starts to breathe more rapidly, and her hips roll sweetly into my hand. My dick responds by throbbing almost painfully. I slip a finger through her folds and can’t help the moan that escapes my throat at how wet she is.

Talia shifts and is on her back looking up at me, a sleepy expression that has a more than wanton look. She stretches and opens her legs for me.

Oh, good lord almighty!

Her sweet, delicate scent reaches my nose, and I commit the fragrance to memory. And what goes with a yummy aroma? Taste. I must taste her.

I shift so that I’m between her legs and work my way downward and lazily eat my breakfast to her apparent delight. I push her legs up and apart giving me better access, and she weaves her fingers through my hair. Based on the other night, I can tell she’s near orgasm.

She holds my head to her. However, I don't want her to come yet—I want her to come around my dick.

I stop what I’m doing. She lets go of my head and looks at me, pouting. I rest her legs on my shoulders and plant kisses on her hips and belly and work upward to her breasts pushing the navy and gold Notre Dame t-shirt out of the way and over her head and sucking on her perfect swells and nipples. I nip at them and suck as her feet clench inches from my head.

My cock is practically leaping trying to get inside my woman, and I can no longer keep the big guy at bay. I raise my hips until I can feel the head at her wicked heat and then in one thrust, seat myself inside of her. Instantly, I feel her clench around me and start to spasm. I rock slowly at first pulling almost all the way out then driving home again. I drop a hand to her soft auburn curls and press on her clit, and in just a few rubs, she’s coming, her tight pussy gripping, urging my own climax onward.

“You feel amazing,” I grunt.

“Please,” she whispers.

Fuck! I’m undone. I drop to my elbows, letting her legs slip from my shoulders, and I cradle her head with my hands, kissing her deeply as I pick up the pace until I come inside her.

I would have helped David pack, but after the morning wake-up call, I can barely move. I only moved enough to go to the bathroom and snuggle back into the soft sheets and fluffy pillows. I must have dozed off because I wake again when I hear the zipper of his garment bag closing. I figure I need to head home, so I slip out of bed and start getting dressed.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he asks, pulling me into his arms.

“I was just going to get going back to my place.”

“Stay. The fridge has food. Sorry, but I peeked in yours yesterday, and there’s not much there. Have some coffee. It’s already brewed in the kitchen. Don’t rush out of here. The cleaning lady will be here around eleven. Besides,” he says, laying me back in his bed, “I want this to be my last image when I leave.”

He arranges me on the pillows pulling my hair down and over my shoulder, artfully arranging my hair, so it just tickles my nipple. The way he touches me and his liquid chocolate eyes skim over my body make me feel like the most beautiful and cared for woman in the world. He pulls my knee this way and tucks my foot that way, raises my right arm and curves it around my head, my left arm he drapes over my waist…

I feel beautiful.

He licks my skin tracing an artful line from my knee, across my belly, makes a figure eight around my breasts and up to my chin. My skin prickles with goosebumps, and I plead with my eyes for him to take me again.

But he only kisses my mouth reverently.

“There. Don’t move…” He backs away from the bed slipping the shoulder strap of his luggage over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off me. As he pauses at the doorway, I watch as he takes in my whole body, the aesthetic way he arranged me. Needing to find a little release from all the contact, both actual and his gaze, I move my legs and squeeze them together to find some release, biting my lower lip involuntarily.

“God, Tali, you’re killing’ me,” he groans and adjusts his pants. “My plane lands back in Chicago around four tomorrow afternoon. Dinner? Seven?”

I nod. “Have a good trip.”

The smile that graces his lips is so… content. And I put that there? Me?

He steps back and disappears from view.

Once I hear the front door close, in the silence of this luxury condo I ponder the past couple of weeks. Drinks, a super fancy dinner, the boat, the Lake Shake, Navy Pier… and now he’s letting me stay in his place without him being around. All of this feels way too fast, like a small snowball released at the top of a mountain and rolling down, picking up snow along the way getting bigger and faster. Why does this feel like it has disaster written all over it? Am I being set up? Should I pull back and take a break from seeing David?

Stop being the old Crystal! I scold myself. The old Crystal doubts everything. Clearly, I’m not her anymore. I’m Talia now. Confident. Independent. A winner.

I slip out of bed, my brain needing coffee. I grab David’s Notre Dame t-shirt, and I meander into the main part of his apartment and make a beeline for the kitchen. David pulled forward his single cup coffee maker with a laminated instruction card. He’s also set out a mug, the sugar, and a note telling me there’s creamer in the fridge.

I make myself a cup and make my way into the living room and continue onto the balcony. I sip the coffee and feel more human and turn and take in the impressive view of the city to the right and the lake in front of me. It’s beyond sunrise, but I can only imagine it’s amazing. There are already several boats out, and I wonder what that must be like—to be out on the lake in such a quiet and peaceful way.

I head back to the bedroom to use the bathroom and after look around his bedroom. It’s a simple space, not many knickknacks or mementos around. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I peek in his bureau drawers and see things neatly stacked. I smile that he’s so orderly. I wander into his closet and am surrounded by the essence of David. His fine suits. Button-down shirts crisply starched and of every color—white, blue, plaids, and even pink. His jeans and t-shirts are also hanging in an orderly fashion. There’s a hint of the scent that is just him as well as his cologne. I close my eyes and inhale deeply and can practically feel him around me.

Back in the bedroom, I spot a door I hadn’t noticed earlier and decide to take a peek. I’m almost fearful of what I’ll find. I recall a book Heather urged me to read, the only book she’s ever read willingly, where this guy had a secret room of sex apparatuses and so on. I’m pleasantly surprised it’s just a home gym set up instead with a treadmill, free weights, and many things I can’t name, all of it with an impressive view of the city. I sit on one of the workout benches and picture David working out in here, sweaty and muscles bulging. I grin to myself that David sat here, and now here I am, without panties. I consider ways this equipment might be used in a sexual way. Maybe I'll tell David these thoughts when he gets back.

Snapping out of my sexual haze, I exit David's workout room and head back to the kitchen for a second cup of coffee. Deciding to keep exploring and figure out a little more of this mysterious man, looking around his living room I notice two doors near the front door. One looked like a front hall closet, and sure enough, inside I find raincoats, trench coats, and winter coats. So many for just one person that I almost laugh.

The other door, a bit further from the front door than the closet, has a more secure look. I almost expect to find the door locked, but it is not. A quick glance shows the room to be a home office. I walk to the big desk, and I have a quick flash of naughtiness in my mind imagining slinking in here while David is working away, him clearing the desk with the sweep of a hand, and having his way with me on the surface—you know, like the movies—because that’s exactly how my life feels right now.

But once I’m at his desk, I spot two pictures in frames. One with his parents while David is wearing a cap and gown. I wonder which graduation this is—high school, although he looks older than eighteen, Notre Dame or Stanford? Then I look at the other picture. David is young here with another young girl. I put down my coffee cup and pick up the frame, and my hunch is confirmed that the girl is his sister when I read the engraved frame—Brother and Sister Forever and at the bottom, David & Darlene. 2001. Sadly, she even looked sick in this photo. I know David said she had been doing well, but here she’s in a wheelchair and has a breathing tube up her nose. But that doesn’t seem to bother the two. They look sublimely happy.

Still looking at the photo of the twins, I wish I were closer to Jude, but he would have to be more like me. I could never run in the circles he runs in. I could never do the drugs or the joyriding in stolen cars.

I put the picture back and turn to see the wall of books. Most appear to be college texts and books about business, but several in a row catch my eye. Harry Potter books. I pull out the first one, fondly remember reading it for the first time. Everyone called me a super nerd because it was so thick, but the story inside felt so important. In many ways, I felt like Hermione. I open the front cover and am shocked when I see it signed to David by JK Rowling herself! Carefully, I close the book and slide it back into place.

Feeling like I’m in a ‘way too personal’ space, I decide to leave. I don't know what I was expected to find, but now I feel like an untrustworthy snoop.

I go back to the bedroom, get dressed, brush my teeth, and head home. I’ve way overstepped.