The next three weeks were a blur. For the first couple of days, it was complete torture. I watched my phone constantly, expecting and slightly hoping for a message from Paul. But there was nothing. By the end of the first week, my fury at his behaviour towards me was more than enough to push him to the back of my mind. To be honest, it was a godsend and allowed me to focus my attention elsewhere. Namely, Scott.
So far, he had been the perfect gentleman. Our physical embraces had amounted to little more than deep kisses as of yet, but I knew that was on the brink of change. We had even shared a bed last weekend but he’d made no move, and amazingly, neither had I. To be quite honest, it was something that I quite cherished, something that made me feel strangely closer to him. We were seeing each other most nights now. The day Paul left had also been the day Scott asked me if we could make it official. Of course, I gladly agreed.
Tonight, he was coming over to mine. We had nothing planned, which was exactly why I was grinning from ear to ear. I wanted nothing more than a weekend in bed with his amazing body.
It was now just after three p.m. and I was counting down the minutes until I could go home, jump in the shower, and eagerly await Scott’s arrival at six o’clock.
The shrill ringing of the phone on my desk cut through my daydream.
“Hello, Kyra speaking.”
A soft, low voice murmured into the receiver, “Hi.”
It took me a minute to realise who it was—Paul. “Oh. Hi.”
“How are you?”
“Good, thanks. You?”
“I’m okay.”
An agonising minute ticked past in a stony silence before I asked the obvious. “Is there something I can help you with?”
He hesitated for a second. “No, it’s okay. I’ve answered my own question now. Should have looked harder before I called.”
“Okay. See you when you’re back.”
“Okay.” Just as I brought the phone away from my ear I heard, “Kyra?”
“Yes?”
“I miss you.”
It took a good few seconds for my ears to register the buzzing of a dial tone after his words.
***
Scott appeared as punctual as ever. He also brought gifts of wine, pizza, and DVDs. After an evening of indulgence, the credits of the final film ran through.
“I suppose I better be going, then.” He stood up, stretching his arms out.
My heart pounded as I said my next words. “Unless you want to stay?”
His dark eyes locked onto mine, lust and desire roaming through them. “Are you sure about that?”
A brief thought of Paul popped into my mind from nowhere, causing a moment of hesitation. The strange phone call had played in my mind but I had tried my best to ignore it. Him missing me meant nothing. His views and opinions weren’t going to change, and neither were mine. Perhaps this was a good old case of to get over someone, you need to get under someone else.
I nodded to Scott, a slow grin spreading over my face. He reached for my hand, pulling me up to him. His fingers traced over my cheek in a gentle pattern before he pressed our lips together.
“Shall we go upstairs?”
I bit my lip and nodded, a little shriek escaping me as he scooped me up in his strong arms and carried me upstairs. He lay me down on the bed, his hungry eyes roving over my body. Standing next to the bed, not taking his eyes from mine, he lifted his t-shirt over his head and revealed that perfect body of his. Taut, defined muscles covered every inch of him. Not a sliver of fat anywhere. Paul had a good body, but Scott…wow. He looked like he belonged on a stage, winning trophies. I couldn’t believe I’d found the complete package. How much better could things get? All thoughts of Paul evaporated as I surrendered to Scott’s leisurely exploration of my body.
His touch was tender, loving, full of warmth and compassion. The slow, sensual assault of his lips on my skin covered me in goosebumps. His hands wrapped around my back, arching me to his mouth as he kissed his way over every millimetre of me. He left me breathless, swimming in a haze of sensitive fingertips and sugar filled kisses. So lost in this pleasure filled fog, I hadn’t realised he’d removed my clothes along with the rest of his own.
In a moment of heaving chests and entwined tongues, he moved through me, satiating us both with his lazy rhythm. His mouth never left mine as he made each deliberate move, bringing us both closer to that joyful edge in a gradual torture of heaven. It was the perfect definition of “making love,” and my heart swelled with happiness that I’d been able to experience something so perfect.
A tiny voice in the back of my mind whispered that it should have been Paul, but Paul wouldn’t ever be so loving because that was just out of the question for him. We had a physical connection but nothing deeper, whereas the bond I’d built with Scott over the past few weeks had amounted to something more than skin deep.
Yet, as I lay there, Scott snoring gently next to me, the stark realisation of sleeping with another man hit me square in the face. It was then that those three words from earlier returned to haunt me.
I miss you…