Chapter 23

Lorali

Getting out of bed this morning was just as bad as I’d anticipated it’d be. It was three in the morning before my exhausted body finally gave into sleep, which was hours after the uncontrollable sobbing started.

I couldn’t work out in my mind why I was having such a reaction to Ian Hale. I mean, I did get mine, but I somehow convinced myself I’d been betrayed. This made no sense. I was betrayed by him refusing a blow job? Before passing out, I’d resolved myself to the conclusion that I was upset not at what I’d allowed to happen, but what I felt like I’d been denied.

During my morning shower I vowed to just get past it. Move on. Simple right? Ha! Yeah right! This was Ian fucking Hale after all. So I’ll start the grieving process of losing something I never really had; do my best to avoid him at all other functions, and do my best to not eat my way through every flavor of ice cream that the grocery store offers.

I’m crazy right? You’re thinking it was a couple of meetings, a few kisses and a finger fuck, but he’s THAT GOOD! His mouth is amazing, his hands are amazing, and the fact that I’ll never have a more intimate knowledge of the hard length that was pressed against my back last night, is devastating.

Alexa was at the kitchen table when I finally made it out of my room. She had a look of sorrow and understanding on her face as I approached. “Wanna talk about it?” She asked gently.

“Not really, but might as well get it out there so we can all forget about it.” I sat down across from her after pouring a travel mug of coffee and doctoring it the way I liked.

Surprisingly she didn’t attempt to grill me or hound me for the gritty details; she just waited patiently for me to speak. I knew I needed to tell her what happened, knowing her insight might help, but I wasn’t ready to delve into the intimate details about Ian just yet.

“So you knew what kind of show I was going to, didn’t you?” I peer across at her, blowing air into the small hole of my cup, attempting to cool it off faster.

She gave me a half-hearted sigh, “I had an idea. I’ve been to one of her shows before. Did you like it?” The look on her face is hopeful.

“Her work is absolutely amazing.” Looking down at my cup I continue, “Probably not the best art show to see if you’re trying to avoid…confrontation with a sex god.”

“Yeah, her work will get your blood pumping, that’s for sure. So, something happened in the car? You weren’t really gone long enough for anything else.” She says gently.

“Nope. He thoroughly seduced me at the show.” I raised my eyebrows at her, waiting for her response.

She’s looking at me in shock. “I heard he doesn’t do the whole public displays of affection!”

“Oh there was no public! It was a private viewing, just me and him. I did get to meet the artist though; she stopped by quickly before we went in.” I frown at the idea of contacting Jody J as she requested and telling her what I thought about the show. How could I possibly give an honest review when all I can remember is Ian Hale and the feel of his miraculous hands and mouth?

“What?! A private show? That’s amazing; he must be really into you. So why are you down in the dumps this morning?” She’s looking at me quizzically.

“He denied me.” I respond on a whisper.

“Denied you? How?” This is the part I didn’t want to go into detail about.

I sit back in my chair and run through minimal details. “He walked me through the show, actively seducing me. His seduction gained ground the further in we made it. He fingered me to the best orgasm of my life at the last picture and then he refused to let me suck him off. Then he brought me straight back here.” I answer in one long breath.

“Holy shit! You let him finger you on the first date! Way to go, Bennett!” She leans back in her chair, her body mimicking mine. I can tell she wants to give me a high five, but the look on my face prevents her from trying.

“You’re so missing the point!” I exclaim, exasperated that she’s only paying attention to some details rather than looking at the night as a whole.

“I’m not missing the point, you are!” She replies just as loudly.

“Tell me what part of ‘he doesn’t want me to touch him’ am I not getting? It’s pretty clear that he thinks I’m not worthy enough to even suck his dick when that’s what he told me he wanted Saturday at the damn gala!” My temper is getting out of control which is quite new for me.

“Did he say he never wanted to see you again? Did he shove you away and tell you to go home?” She queries, folding her arms across her chest.

“No.” My answer is simple.

“What did he say last night that you twisted into a rejection? Because Saturday night, if I recall correctly, he told you he wanted to continue with you after the speech and you bailed…did you bail again last night?” Frustration is rolling off of her in waves.

“Last night his words were ‘Tonight is only about you.’ and ‘We’ll save the other for another day’. That’s what he said to me.” Fuck, I can already tell where she’s going.

She just sits there and stares at me, knowing that she’s just proven that his rejection may not be a rejection at all, which still kind of pisses me off.

“You said he didn’t do repeats! I’d resigned myself to a great night and no callback, not a half of a great night and no callback!” I stand and grab my coat from the back of the chair.

“You’ve even managed to twist my words! If you remember correctly I tried to explain that his seeking you out after you left him high and dry at the gala was out of the norm of what he’s known to do. Just like not banging you last night is out of the norm.” She sighs knowing she’s getting nowhere.

“So, he decided I’m not good enough to fuck? Because I can tell you, I was throwing it at him, and he refused to catch it. Seriously I all but told him to fuck me. I was that willing.” I grab my coffee cup and walk towards the door, ready to be done with the conversation.

“Lorali, it sounds like he thinks the opposite. Not that you weren’t good enough, but you’re too good to fuck on the first date.” She winks at me and walks away leaving me to ponder that shit on the way to work.

As much as I want to give Alexa’s line of thinking credit, I do my best not to; should she be wrong, it’d be that much more devastating.

I walk into my office with no recollection of how I got there. I mean, I know I drove; my keys were still in my hand. I can’t remember the last time I’d been this distracted, probably never. Ian Hale is sort of a once in a lifetime thing.

I somehow manage to focus only on work for the first couple of hours. The ding from a text alert diverts my attention. I pull the phone from my desk, open up the text message app, and look down in utter shock.

Ian: I can still taste you on my lips.

Holy fuck!