Anna
I awoke sore. I could feel the half-formed bruises on my neck, on my thighs, on my breasts. I smiled at the cause and then froze. Shit, I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. I had been about to get dressed and head back to Daniel’s place when Ethan had carried me back to bed, and true to his word, he had fucked me all night. Oh god. I’d never had so much sex in one night, never had such amazing sex, and never begged for it, as he told me I would, over and over. I squirmed, feeling myself dampen at the memory. Was he still here? I couldn’t bring myself to look. I couldn’t hear him breathing, but the bed was as big as a small country, so that was no wonder. Did he live here? In a hotel? I had so many unanswered questions. But, I told myself, I came here for fun, not answers.
I rolled to my side and swung my legs off the bed. The bed was empty. I held my breath, trying not to make a sound, so I could hear if there was any noise on the other side of the door.
Nothing.
I grabbed the robe that had been discarded beside the bed and pulled it around me, wincing as the movement brought my attention to my sore back. I headed to the bathroom and lowered the robe, angling my back at the mirror, to see if I could see the cause of the pain. My back was grazed. Oh yes, that was from the part of last night where I was up against the wall, my legs wrapped around Ethan’s waist as he pounded into me, pushing me farther and farther up the wall. Friction burns. I blushed and tried to suppress a grin.
Tentatively, I opened the door to the bedroom into the living room. Not a sound. He was gone, but his suit was still strewn across the living room. I felt disappointed, and then embarrassed at my disappointment. It was just sex. I gathered my clothes, took them back to the bedroom, and dressed quickly. Should I leave a note? What was one-night stand etiquette? No, it was just sex—no note required.
I called Leah and she answered on the first ring. “Don’t even speak to me. I know I’m a slut.” I said before she’d even said hello.
She screeched. “Don’t you dare say that. You’re just having yourself some fun. I want to hear all about it but we’ve got to have some culture with our booze. Get yourself back here to change. I want to go to that place you said was around the corner.”
“You want to go to The Frick?”
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“We’re going to talk about fucking in The Frick? That doesn’t seem very appropriate.” We laughed.
“You can tell me all about it and then you can tell me again over lunch and cocktails. Let’s go somewhere fancy. Get the concierge to book something on the way out.”
I slipped out the suite, down the elevators, and without a single shred of embarrassment, despite my evening attire, spoke to the concierge who booked lunch for two at what I supposed was a very expensive restaurant. I headed out into the humidity of a New York morning in July. It was only just 7 a.m. but it was already stiflingly hot. Once I orientated myself, I realized I was about ten blocks from Daniel’s apartment, but I couldn’t walk, not in these heels. Ten blocks was a long walk of shame. Except I wasn’t ashamed. I felt great, like I’d scrubbed a layer of something unpleasant from me, and I was now fresh and ready for my next chapter.
***
“So, I bet he was amazing. He looked like he would be amazing,” Leah rambled as we strolled through Central Park, coffees in hand, taking in the morning parkgoers, killing time while we waited for the Frick to open.
I grinned. He was amazing. The sex. The sex had been amazing.
“I have no complaints.”
“So, you see, you should take your own advice—it works!” she bumped my shoulder with hers. “Are you going to see him again?”
“I told you, Leah, it was just sex. No kissing on the mouth.”
“Eww, you didn’t kiss him on the mouth but you let his penis inside you?”
“No, I mean figuratively.” He’d been an excellent kisser. An excellent everything. “You know, no emotional involvement.”
“Oh, like from Pretty Woman,” she said. I nodded. “What is it with you and that film?”
I shrugged.
“So, what if he calls and asks you out again?”
“We’ve not been out to go out again, and anyway, he doesn’t have my number.” Should I have left him my number or a note or something? No, it was just sex.
Leah raised her eyebrows at me. I didn’t know if it was disbelief of disapproval. Both, probably.
“It should be open now. Let’s go.” I wanted the subject changed. I was in New York! I wanted to enjoy it. I picked up the pace as we headed to The Frick. The streets seemed relatively peaceful. The commuters were all behind their desks, leaving the streets to people who had to endure the July heat—tourists like Leah and me, couriers, students, nannies pushing strollers, schoolchildren on trips away from home.
“So you’re going to marry Daniel?” I asked. She’d accepted his proposal weeks ago but I’d heard no mention of it since.
Leah didn’t respond straight away. “Yes, but there’s no rush.”
“I thought when you know, you know. You know?”
We laughed. “I know,” Leah answered. “I can’t imagine being with anybody else. He makes me happy and I want to make him happy, forever. It doesn’t matter if we’re married or not.”
“That’s nice,” I said. I meant it.
“It will happen for you.”
I smiled at her and shrugged my shoulders. “It’s all about fun for me now. I’ve tried to find ‘it’ or ‘the one’ and it hasn’t happened, so I officially give up. I want fun. Nothing complicated.”
The air conditioning in the museum was a godsend. “Shall we just stay here all day? We can be cool and cultured at the same time.”
“No doubt our very expensive restaurant will have A/C and we can get a cab. It’s too hot to walk.” Leah always looked perfectly beautiful, but even her glossy straight hair had the start of a frizz around it. I’d long since given up with mine. The humidity took the hint of a natural curl and turned me into Diana Ross.
“Ok, as long as I can day drink, I’ll let you take me to lunch.”
“I’m honored.”
“You should be.”