Carlene

My heart skips a beat when I finally retrieve my phone from the locker I’ve been assigned at the day-spa. There’s a text from Rome waiting. Stupid teenage crush, Carlene.

Rome: I want tonight to be special. We’re going on a date. I’ve left a little something on the bed. I’d like you to wear it. I’m going to go give you the chance to get ready for dinner in peace. I’ll knock on the door at 7:00 to pick you up. Rome xx

My heart races. A real date.

Rome is taking me on a date.

Oh, my God, I haven’t been on a real date in over twenty years. Do people my age date?

My stomach’s dancing again with nerves, and I haven’t even gotten back to the suite.

I rush across the cobblestoned path back to our suite, hardly able to contain my need to run to get there quicker.

Then I catch myself.

Our suite.

What am I thinking? Not The Suite, or My Suite, I’d thought Our Suite.

Since when have I started to think of us as a couple? That can’t happen past the end of our time together. It isn’t smart to let my head go there. It will hurt too much when it comes time to say goodbye.

I’m starting to wonder if fighting against the pull I feel toward him is futile. I fear I’m already too attached to him. Live in the moment is our mantra. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.

Later, much later, I’ll deal with whatever the fallout is. Right now, I’m going to live each minute to the fullest, starting with my daring new “downstairs do.”

The first thing I see when I walk into the room are flowers.

There are flowers everywhere. Roses of every color except red. White, pink, apricot, lavender, blue, yellow…they’re everywhere. It’s a rainbow of color, and the perfume is heady.

Tears prick at my eyes. I’ve never been given flowers by a man before. Florists aren’t exactly in abundance in outback Australia. Not to mention, a gesture like this would have been considered frivolous.

The need to capture the moment forever is overwhelming, and I snap a bunch of pictures on my phone. I’ll cherish this memory and this feeling of being special, forever. He’s given me a rainbow of roses.

Finally, I drag my eyes from the beautiful floral show long enough to look at the bed, and my heart leaps and clenches for the second time in moments.

Laid out on the bed is a deep cherry red dress, a daring and classy shade. One I’ve never worn before. I pick up the dress and hold it against me while I take a look in the oversize mirror that flanks the wall to the side of the king-sized bed.

The dress is a clingy wrap, and I know immediately it’s going to hug and drape my body like a second skin. The fabric is so soft and silky beneath my fingers. Then a glint catches my eye, and I spin around and realize it’s from the crystals across the strap of a pair of very sexy heels. The sort I’ve never worn. The sort with a red sole.

Even I know what they are; I’ve seen them in movies. Well, truthfully, I had to ask Chelsea what all the fuss was about. Regardless, I know, I’ve just never expected to wear a pair. God, I hope they fit, and I can walk in them.

I place the dress on the bed and hastily sit. A few seconds later, I have the jeweled shoes on and they fit so well, I would swear I’m Cinderella.

A note on the pillow catches my eye.

I hope you like what I chose for you. Could I be so forward as to suggest the red bra and panties I know you bought. Stop thinking and worrying Carlene, you’re beautiful and tonight is going to be special.

I can’t wait for 7:00 to roll around and have you on my arm once again.

Yours

Rome xx

He thinks I’m beautiful.

One word is enough to make my heart feel light. Rome makes me feel beautiful, cherished, and special. Rome is special.

In my crazy bubble of euphoria, I whip off a text to Chelsea and attach a couple of photos.

It’s not until I see the little dots coming back that the euphoria I feel starts to waver. Why did I just send that to my kids? Ahhh, stupid Carlene, stupid. I chastise myself then realize the time.

Shit, I need to get dressed.

It’s almost time for him to come knocking and here I am jumping between daydreaming and feeling a right fool for doing so.

I shimmy into the red underwear he suggested and feel even more scandalous than I had when I bought them. They are so sexy, skimpy, and red. The panties aren’t really panties, they’re a thong as they called them here.

Another first for me.

As I hoped, the dress fits perfectly. Rome certainly knows his way around a woman’s body and her wardrobe. Wrongly, I can’t help but compare Rome to Phillip. There’s no way on this earth would Phillip have ever been seen dead in a woman’s boutique, let alone take her hands-on lingerie shopping like Rome had. They’re chalk and cheese and that leaves me off-balance.

My phone dings a message coming in and I snatch it off the bed, excited to know what Chelsea thinks but also wracked with embarrassment at my need to share with my daughter who’s well and truly filling the role of surrogate best friend.

It’s not a message, it’s an essay.

Mum, love the photos of the flowers and the dress. I can tell you’re freaking out. I can just imagine you buzzing around the room now trying to get dressed and all the while trying to be cool and well “mumish” about it. The man seriously has seduction on his mind. You know that don’t you? He’s going to spend the night figuring out how to get you out of that dress.

(NOTE Mum: You’re so lucky I’m almost a doctor and can look at sex objectively, otherwise I’d be dying from the Ick factor right now—just wanted to put that out there).

But as an almost doctor and your daughter who is genuinely concerned for your health and wellbeing, I need you to do something from a medical perspective, because I currently have concerns for your blood pressure. (Not good in advancing age groups ;))

I dare you to squeal…like a girl.

Go on Mum…I know you can do it.

SQUEAL!!!

I can’t help myself. I squeal, and it feels so good, I do it again, then less than elegantly plop onto the bed with laughter racking my belly. My kids are the best. I’m so damned lucky to have them. They’re mine and they’re perfect.

A knock sounds at the door, and I leap from the bed like a scalded cat.

Without thought, a smile pops out at the irony of him knocking. He does, after all, have a key. I can’t seem to wipe the smile off my face, my crazy daughter put there either.

I can’t resist taking one last look in the full length mirror before I open the door to him. Preening has never been my thing but tonight…

As soon as I pull the door back, he’s standing there perusing me from head to toe. His tongue flicks out and swipes along his lower lip, and heat fills his eyes.

“Hello, Oz.”

His voice is low and sexy but rich with humor.

“Was that you squealing I heard?”

I feel my cheeks blush with heat at being caught by not only my daughter but now Rome.

Regardless, he seems transfixed by me, just as much as I am by him. The dark charcoal slim fit suit he has on, fits him to perfection. No doubt, a skilled tailor’s handiwork. He’s paired the suit with a lighter grey shirt he’s left unbuttoned at the throat.

Handsome doesn’t even begin to describe just how good Rome looks.

I glance at my hand realizing I still have my phone in it. “Um, maybe…”

“What’s going on?”

Before I can answer, my phone chimes again with another in-coming message.

I briefly glance at it.

Well, did you do it?

“Carlene?”

I can’t answer. “Um, see for yourself.” I shove my phone into his hand and head for the bathroom, where I left my purse.

I take a composing breath and smooth my hair.

“Your daughter’s a hoot.”

“Definitely one of a kind,” I agree and join him once again. “I ask myself constantly who is the parent in this relationship.”

“Does it matter? She’s an adult and she obviously has no trouble telling you anything. What more could you want in a relationship with your kid? Most parents don’t get that from their kids.”

He’s right. Chelsea loves me and I love her and her brother more than anything. What more really matters?

“Do you want to respond?” He passes my phone back to me.

“Do you mind?”

He gives me a look that says don’t be stupid. “Go ahead. She’ll be bursting to know.”

“Maybe she should learn some patience.”

He starts laughing. “Oz, there is no such thing in kids these days.”

“True,” I agree and quickly fire off a message letting her know I took her advice.

Before I even manage to slip the phone into my purse, it chimes again.

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do… ;)

Rome raises his eyebrows. “She wanted the last word?”

“Always,” I mutter and hold the phone so he can glance at the screen.

“She’s definitely a firecracker.”

“Oh yeah! No doubt about that, and if I follow her advice, I’m about up for anything.”

“I definitely like the sound of that, but I think we need to do a slight reset.”

He moves away from me, and I wonder what he’s up to. Then he peruses me from head to toe and doesn’t bother to mask his thoughts. His eyes tell the tale.

“You look beautiful, Carlene. I’m a very lucky man to have you on my arm tonight and the pleasure of your company and I can promise you I’m up for anything as well.” There’s a devilish twinkle in his eye as he says it.

The thing with Rome is, not only can he deliver the line, he means it and his actions carry it through.

“Thank you, Rome. And thank you for going to all this trouble. The flowers, the dress, the shoes. It’s really…overwhelming. No one has ever done anything like this for me before.”

“You’re very welcome, Carlene, and the fact no one has spoiled you, shown you just how special you are, saddens me.” He looks longingly at my lips before he reaches forward and brushes his lips across my forehead in the lightest of kisses. I know immediately he’s thoughtfully avoiding smudging my lipstick.

As if to compensate, his lips instead find the spot just below my right ear, and he places a couple of kisses there. “Did you find my note?”

All I can do is nod. My throat closes with emotion and a new heat Rome effortlessly creates in my body.

“And did you grant me my suggestion?”

His breath is the most erotic tickle, and I can feel it throughout my body. I’m getting so hot and tingly for him. How does he do it?

“Yes,” I manage to utter.

He steps back abruptly, and I clearly see him fighting for control before he offers me his arm.

“We need to leave this room, Carlene. If we stay here any longer, there’s going to be no way I can resist bending you over this bed and sliding into you. I know you’re going to be hot, wet, and ready. Knowing that, just does all sorts of crazy things to my control.”

I accept his arm and say nothing. Just play his words around in my head. Rome can say dirty explicit things, particularly around sex. Never once has he made me feel cheap or disposable.

This is different. This is him speaking from the heart. There’s a new intimacy to his words, I’m sure of it. What does this mean? I’m sure I’m not mistaken.

I need to think on it a bit more. Now isn’t the time. I have a night to enjoy and a man to seduce.

Rome

So far, everything is going exactly to plan. Thankfully, the dress fits perfectly, and Carlene is beyond happy. Regardless what she might think, picking out women’s clothing is not something I do very often. The confident, sensual look and feel she’s wearing tonight is exactly what I wanted to create for her.

I’m going to give her a night to remember, forever. One where she’s cherished and made to feel like the most important and special woman in the world. And to me, tonight, she’s exactly that.

The Maître D’ shows us to a secluded booth toward the back of the dark paneled, mood-lit restaurant. The one I’d scoped out and requested this afternoon. Perfect dates are all about planning and not leaving anything to chance. I’ve done my homework. Now we can both enjoy a special evening.

Tonight doesn’t feel like work at all.

In fact, there’s nowhere I can think of, I would rather be than here with Carlene tonight and for that matter, this trip.

What does that tell me?

I brush the thought aside and slide into the curved booth beside Carlene. The starched white linen tablecloth falls low over the front of the table to prevent curious eyes and a little higher where we sit to help prevent us accidently sitting on the fabric.

It’s perfect for a night of sexy seduction.

I selected this booth specifically because it’s curved. The curve gives me the best of both worlds. If I want to discretely rest my hand on her thigh or anywhere else, I can. Just as easily, I can gaze into her eyes.

A waiter immediately approaches and opens the bottle of Champagne I requested be brought to us upon arrival. The cork explodes from the bottle with a loud, “Pop.”

Carlene flinches a little, not expecting the noise.

Her hand flies to her throat. “Scared me.” She follows with an excited smile and even more in her eyes.

Gently, I peel her hand from her throat and bring it to my lips. The skin on the back of her hand is warm and satiny soft against my mouth as I press a kiss. Rather than release her hand, I place it across my thigh, and settle mine on top of hers, just in case she has any ideas about pulling away.

“You look stunning tonight, Carlene. So vibrant and alive. I love that color on you. As soon as I saw the dress, I knew it was for you.” Every word is the truth. Tonight, she looks sophisticated and classy—a woman dressed for her man. Me.

Her eyes catch mine. “And you look very handsome, Rome.”

“Thank you.”

We’re sitting close together, and I can very easily turn my head and whisper in her ear. The restaurant has excellent acoustics. The thick carpeting on the floor dulls the chatter from other guests and the atmosphere becomes very intimate and moody.

I also love the layout of the restaurant. Each table has a considerable distance between the next. It gives the feeling of almost being in a private dining room.

“How did you enjoy your spa afternoon?”

Carlene immediately blushes a little, and a shy smile teases her mouth before morphing into a grin I can only describe as naughty. It’s a new look for her, and she’s enjoying working it and holding me in suspense for an answer.

Damned if it doesn’t have my dick twitching. I’m already half hard for her. Have been since I met her at the door, and that’s not something familiar for me. I have supreme control of both “my heads” at all times. My job success depends on it.

Carlene is the exception. My body reacts differently to her. She tests all my control at every turn, and I doubt she has a clue.

Finally, she decides to stop the tease. “How do I say this?”

I grin with amusement at her obvious discomfort but love the fact she’s playing it up, flirting with me.

“I’m waiting.”

She huffs and moves in closer to whisper in my ear, “okay, having a Brazilian was about the most mortifying experience of my life. Yes, I’ve had kids, but that was eons ago. Thank God the beautician was a total sweetheart and did her best to put me at ease.”

I can’t help laughing at her mock outrage and horror. She really is funny when she lets go. “And here I thought it would be the pain that would be the worst part,” I offer, unable to keep the amused smirk from my face.

“Let me put it like this, Rome, if the pain was the worst part, I’d have been happy and relaxed. I’d take the pain in preference to the embarrassment of having my…”

I chuckle again. She doesn’t want to say the word. It’s kind of adorable. I lean over and whisper in her ear.

“Go on, Oz, you can do it, make me horny, say the word…”

She squeezes my thigh in retaliation, her eyes shooting fire. “Pussy,” she whispers furiously beside my ear. “Pussy, pussy, pussy.”

Now I can’t help myself. “I love it when you talk dirty to me. So, tell me more about your pussy, is it as smooth and soft as I’m imagining?”

“Rome,” she shrieks in a hushed whisper.

I stroke her hair back from where it’s fallen on her cheek. “Come on, Oz, we both know that if I slip my hand between your thighs and touch your pussy, it will be wet with need for me, which is perfect because I’m hard for you right now.”

To prove the point, I guide her hand a little further north to where my cock is valiantly attempting to seek freedom outside the trousers of my suit.

“And what exactly am I supposed to do with all that?”

Unable to resist, I lean in and brush my lips lightly over hers. “Nothing right now. I just want you to know what you do to me.” I want her to be open about sex, and the best way I know how is to be open with her about how I feel. If I talk about what I need and want, then Carlene’s more likely to reciprocate. “Now I want to hear more about how mortified you were.”

“You really want to hear about the mortification of Carlene Davis?”

“That could be the title for a book. But sure. That way, I can say how brave you were for going through with it. I must confess, I had my doubts you would. But I’m really pleased you did. And I promise you, when I go down on you later, you’ll realize a few minutes of embarrassment is well worth the price.”

She wriggles beside me. “You really are the devil, aren’t you?”

“You think?” I give her a little wink.

“I know. I can’t believe the stuff you get me to do and say as if it’s no big deal.”

“Fun though, isn’t it?” I drop another little kiss to her lips. Damn her lipstick to hell.

As I move back away from her, I notice the waiter standing a discrete distance away, waiting for the right time to approach. Yeah, he’s getting a big tip tonight.

I give him a slight nod, and he approaches.

“Oz, how do you feel about letting me order for you tonight? I’ve got a couple of dishes in mind I’d like you to try.”

“Sure, I don’t mind at all. Besides, you ordering solves the problem for me of having to decide.”

The waiter looks at me expectantly. “Go with what I selected earlier, please.”

He nods. “Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you.” The waiter slips away, and we’re alone once again.

I pick up my champagne flute and motion for her to do the same.

“I think we need a toast, Carlene.”

“Okay.” Her expression turns curious.

There’s a lot I want to say, but can’t. I’m so sick of keeping everything in the moment and impersonal, other than with my body.

It’s such a paradox.

My job means I can give her every part of my body but nothing in my life or my heart. Finally, I choose a few words I hope will work. I want to convey the sentiment my heart is feeling but isn’t allowed to openly express.

“To new experiences and new friends. They both mean everything to me and may both continue for years to come.”

We clink glasses and Carlene looks a little surprised as we both sip the perfectly chilled champagne. “I can certainly drink to that.”

She raises her eyebrows a little and studies my face. What is she looking for? What does she see when she looks at me? And suddenly, I’m a little uncomfortable.

“What are you trying to say, Rome?”

What am I really angling for?

It’s time for me to recognize the truth, at least to myself. I don’t want the two weeks to be all we have together. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, somewhere along the way, Carlene, you’ve become more than a client, and I can’t ignore this any longer. Anymore, than I can ignore the fact this is my life. What I’m trying to say, and not very well, is I’ve come to think of you as a friend, and I’d like that to continue after our time together is up.”

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and a pleased smile tickles her lips. “I’m glad you said that, Rome, I feel the same, but I didn’t really think it was my place to suggest any sort of contact after here. I’m not familiar with the protocol.”

The word protocol makes me laugh. “You really don’t like to break the rules, do you?”

She shakes her head no. “Although, I seem to have developed quite a naughty streak of late, thanks to you.”

“Yes, you have. And on the rule part, there really are no rules. It’s up to us how we handle things after our time comes to an end.”

I can see her kicking it around in her head. Something is still bothering her.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble with your boss. I thought all communication has to go through him?”

Well, she has me there.

I glance down and suppress a chuckle. I can trust Carlene, I’m almost sure of it.

“What if I told you I am the boss? Would that make you feel better?”

Surprise shoots across her face. “What do you mean?”

I’m about to take a big risk. One I may well come to regret, but I’m going to do it anyway. I’m breaking all my own rules.

“I own Perfect Gentlemen. I started the service about ten years ago.”

Her jaw drops slack, and her mouth forms a perfect O. I like surprising Carlene.

It’s almost as good as teasing an orgasm out of her.