Push & Pull (3 page)

“Cum for me,” he said
breathlessly. The way his body tensed I could feel he was close too. He pressed
his thumb along my clit and that was it. My body seized immediately as my
juices released, dripping down the insides of my thighs. Andrew wrapped his
arms around my rib cage while I shook, keeping me from collapsing to the floor.
He pumped in and out of me a few more times before a definitive groan escaped
his lips. His hips grew gravely still and I could feel him twitching inside of
me.

Our tired forms lay
strewn across the floor, waiting for some semblance of life to return. Liam
smiled. He clapped his hands together slowly and pulled his pants back up.

“Well done,” he
commended us, “You gave quite a show.”

“Was it good for you?”
I asked as I crawled towards him. He grabbed me by the wrists and easily pulled
me to my feet. Our bodies were within inches of each other. I felt his eyes
graze my nakedness, but he refrained from touching.

“It was,” he said,
giving a sort of half smile as Andrew climbed to his feet. He gave me a soft
smack on the ass and kissed my neck.

“She’s so tight, Lee.
You really should give her a go,” he teased, departing to the other side of the
kitchen to retrieve our clothes.

The three of us dressed
in near silence before Liam mentioned he had to get back to the office.

“Bye, Claire,” Andrew
said as he took a pen and scrawled his number along my hand, “You were a real
treat.” Liam kissed me on the cheek and the next thing I knew, I was on an
elevator heading back to the life I knew before level forty two.

4

The sound of my alarm ripped me from
a smoldering dream, but it wasn’t really a dream. What took place at Liam’s apartment
the other day was something so far out of my realm that I couldn’t wrap my mind
around it. And I couldn’t keep lying to myself anymore. To be fair, it wasn’t a
threesome, though I would have enjoyed more interaction from Liam. It was a
moment of passion. Insecurity. Longing. It may have been what I wanted at the
time, but I couldn’t help but feel like an outsider to the memory. So far
detached from my true identity that I couldn’t even recognize myself. Had I
slipped too far? Reality was waiting and I had an appointment to keep.

I arrived at Padua shortly before 12.
It was the last place I wanted to meet considering that I’d been there days
before, sitting in a booth, getting shot down. But I was surprised to see how
different it looked in the daylight, like a stadium void of its fans. The way
the space absorbed the sun was inviting and kept me focused on the task at
hand. She was already waiting for me in the bar. A petite brunette with a
pinched face. I recognized her from several print ads and noted that her career
must have taken off if she was seeking me. We introduced ourselves briefly
before she got down to business.

“His name is Damien,” she started,
sliding a picture across the table. “We met in Italy and he’s here on a work
visa. He said he couldn’t live without me so he moved here to be with me. But
I…”

“Am afraid he’s using you for
permanent residency?” I asked. Her hand cast shamefully across her forehead.

“I shouldn’t feel this way,” she
admitted in between sips of wine, “We love each other. I mean, I know he loves
me. And I hate that I’m even doing this but I’ve heard you’re the best. Can you
help?” I loathed myself for agreeing. Call me a cynic, but I had yet to
encounter a foreign fling that didn’t end in heartache. Even fresh off rejection,
I knew I could handle this with my eyes closed. We chatted over his schedule
and discussed compensation before she flagged the bartender for her check.

“Don’t worry about. I got it,” I
insisted. The pangs of guilt tickled my stomach as she gave a sweet smile and
departed. I nursed my drink a while longer, mulling over the assignment when
the bartender circled back around.

“I’ll take that check now,” I said,
digging my hand into my bag.

“Not necessary. The boss got it,” he
replied, tossing his head back. I glanced over my shoulder and there he was.
The only person in the barren joint, smiling at me like a prize. We hadn’t
conversed since our prior meeting and for a moment I was floored. Scotch never
seemed so interesting. An internal debate ensued as I feigned interest in the
television overhead but ultimately I knew I couldn’t ignore him. Keeping my
eyes fixed upon his, I sauntered towards him. His finger nosed the edge of his
glass and he smirked as I sat.

“Hello, Liam,” I said, taking a seat
across from him.

“Can I be honest?” he said before I
had a chance to give him a piece of my mind. “It wasn’t good for me.”

“What?”

“You asked the other day if it was
good for me. I thought about it and it wasn’t.” His tone was flat, matter of
fact. My ego took another hard ass kicking and my cheeks burned. I hoped he
hadn’t noticed.

“So, that’s why you didn’t call,” I
laughed, tossing my hands up in the air sarcastically before rising to my feet.
His hand caught my wrist and pulled me gently back down.

“It wasn’t good for me because I
wanted you.” His words were hardly a whisper.

“That was your choice and you opted
to make it a spectator sport,” I coldly reminded him, “This clearly wasn’t your
first time. Do you just proposition strange women to sleep with you and
co-workers?”

“On occasion, yes,” he said
shamelessly, “but it’s not like that.”

“Really, Liam? What’s it like?”

“You’re feisty, adventurous. Hell,
you like scotch,” he laughed, gesturing at the empty glass poised in front of
me. “Once things got out of hand something felt off and I didn’t like it.”

“You didn’t like me being with
another man.” My words zeroed in on the heart of his lament.

“No.”

“Look, Liam. You’re nice enough but
we don’t know each other, so let’s not kid ourselves. Giving me your number in
a bar hardly qualifies you to have a say over who I choose to be with and-”

“You’re right,” he admitted, holding
his hand up to yield my speech, “but I want that to change. I want to know you
and I don’t want you to see Andrew again.” My eyes narrowed as I studied his
expression. His exterior remained calm and arrogant but his eyes were
different. A subtle longing hung within the depths. A longing perhaps he tried
to ignore when he looked in the mirror every day. I wondered if he felt as hollow
inside as I did at times.

“What are you doing tonight?” He
asked, dodging his gaze towards his watch.

“Why?”

“Go to dinner with me.”

My mind hesitated before the mouth
spoke. No. My lips had already formed the word but my head held fast to it. I
twisted my jaw back and forth, trying to free myself but I was suspended in
time.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I
managed. Not a no, but certainly not a yes. The man had already slipped a
business card in my pocket and lured me to his apartment once. How I thought he
would stop at a maybe is beyond me. Every time I tried to push him away he
pulled me back in.

“See you at 7? I’ll pick you up,” he
offered.

“You don’t even know where I live,” I
reminded him as I finished the last leg of scotch. Before I could even put the
glass down he’d already extended his pen.

“Do you trust me?”

5

The clock edged towards seven and I
moved around my apartment sitting on practically every piece of furniture. It
was all I could do to calm myself. One moment complete ease would cycle over me
before reality drowned it out. Five minutes and he would be here. Five more
minutes to wonder if this is what I wanted. I felt sick. Before the incident in
Liam’s apartment it had been nearly a year since I’d been with a man, much less
even had a connection with one. I had become consumed in my career in the most
unhealthy sense. Women of my stature were married to their careers, working
long hours and chasing their dreams. I was chasing men I had no intention of
catching.

A sudden knock sounded on the door
and I gathered myself. Smoothing my hands over the hem of my little black
dress, I opened it.

“You’re overdressed,” Liam grinned,
handing me a bottle of wine. I took it from him trying not to seem too
surprised.

“And you’re in pajamas. Did you drive
here like that?” I asked giving him the once over. His flannel bottoms slouched
casually on his hips and his gray v-neck pulled against his chest. I couldn’t
help but wonder if he was drunk.

“Yes ma’am.” He gave a brief twirl
before winking, “Don’t act like you’re not impressed.”

“I’m confused, really. If this is
your way of staying the night, it’s not working.” My arms folded defensively
across my chest as I attempted to look serious. I was, but a part of me was
laughing at this ridiculous display. I rested the wine on the table, noting it
was a Chateau Lafluer. Expensive.

“It’s not. I just wanted to try
something different,” he said, drawing my hand into his. For some reason the
gesture made my stomach cartwheel, as if he’d never touched me before. This
seemed more intimate. Sincere. I pushed the thought out of my mind but allowed
him to linger.

“Define different.”

“Dinner and a movie?” he smiled.

“That’s not different.”

“It is with me.” I wasn’t sure I followed
until he pulled out his phone and started dialing. Several moments later he
hung up and Thai takeout was on the way. “Don’t you hate first dates?” he
asked. Truth be told, it had been a while since I’d been on one. And even then
the ones I’d engaged in were for business purposes. “You dress up, trying to
impress the other person, and for what?”

“Love.” The word seemed foreign and
rushed as it plummeted from my mouth.

“How often does it become that
though?” he pressed, drawing closer to me. The warmth of his breath spread
across my neck causing me to shiver. I shrugged, conceding his point.

“This wine looks expensive,” I said,
trying to change the subject. I grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and began
to pour. As I handed him a glass he gave an appreciative nod.

“You need to change into something
more comfortable or I’ll look like an ass.”

“You already do,” I smiled, clinking
my glass against his before heading into the bedroom.
Dammit
. What was I
going to wear? Living alone and having zero sex life wasn’t exactly conducive
to proper nighttime attire. I opened my drawer. Sports bras, tank tops, yoga
pants.
Yoga pants it is,
I thought. Considering the level of comfort I
wanted to achieve I ditched the bra and grabbed a sweatshirt instead. He wanted
comfortable and that’s exactly what I was going to give him.

When I emerged he looked up from the
television and gave a strange smile. One I’d never seen before. It conveyed no
emotion but held a world of secrets.

“What?” I asked.

“Nice yoga pants,” he laughed,
wagging his eyebrows at me. I grabbed a pillow off the couch and smacked him
with it as he pulled me into his lap. We struggled against one another in our
playful jest, his hands wrapped around my wrist, trying to keep me from beating
him with the pillow. My sides ached from laughter when he stopped, sliding his
hand along my ass and down the back of my leg. He looked serious. My stomach
started to cartwheel again.

“They look good on you.”

“Thanks,” I said, bopping him one
last time.

Jumping to his feet, he turned and
asked, “What movie do you want to watch? We have
Lazy Daze
,
Two Suns
and a Daughter
, and
Time Teller.
” He pulled the DVD cases from a
laptop bag he brought.

“Wait. How do you have
Time Teller
?”
I asked raising my eyebrow suspiciously. “Isn’t that still in theaters?”

“Oh, you know. I travel a lot.” He
gave a sly wink before flipping the television on. The Thai food arrived before
we finished wading through the previews and halfway through the movie I had
nearly shot noodles out of my nose. We were engrossed in our own little world,
hardly paying attention to the movie. We talked about life and our careers,
though I may have fibbed about mine. And even when the movie ended we carried
out our conversation into the early hours. I didn’t feel like I was on a date
and it wasn’t a bad thing. We were comfortable. Content. Liam glanced down at
his watch.

“Two. Damn, it’s late! I’m sorry to
keep you this long,” he said, grabbing our empty plates and carrying them to
the kitchen.

“You don’t want dessert?” I asked. I
didn’t mean it to sound sexual but he gave a soft laugh. “I mean, like…ice
cream or something.” My cheeks flushed suddenly and he nodded.

“Sure. What do you have?” I rummaged
through the freezer looking for the chocolate chip ice cream I thought I had.
Then I remembered I destroyed it in a
Sex In the City
marathon. Maybe I
had cheesecake. No dice. Cookies? Nope.

“Well, this is embarrassing.” A
disappointed sigh came over me. “Rain check?”