Shouldn't Be by Melissa Silvey Page A

brought it to his erection.  She touched it tentatively, as if for the first time.  “It’s sore,” he moaned, and flinched.  She pulled away, and he let her go.
    “Coffee,” she reminded him.  She smiled weakly, and took a step back.
    “Okay,” he nodded. 
    She made her way to the bathroom, and he pulled on his cotton pants and headed downstairs.
     
    * * *
     
    She exited the bathroom to find her clothes, rumpled and dirty from the night in his garage, lying on top of his bed.  Beside them, folded neatly, were a pair of sweat pants and a college t-shirt.  She gazed between the two piles, wondering which to wear.  Eventually she chose his clothes, and pulled them on quickly.
    He carried two mugs of coffee into the room just then.  “I hope you like cream,” he said as he handed one to her.  She nodded, and took the cup with a smile.  He opened the glass door, and stepped out onto the balcony.  She followed after him.  “I like to sit here for five minutes in the morning, to drink my coffee and just gather my thoughts.”
    His outdoor furniture was just like everything she’d seen so far inside; expensive, and expertly arranged and matched.  “Did you have a decorator?” she asked, even though she assumed he did.
    “No, I put most of it together myself,” he said.
    “Really?”  She sat cross-legged on a dark chocolate settee, and gazed at the dark wicker furniture.  “Everything is really pretty.”
    “I wanted everything to be functional and comfortable, but with my own personal style.  I hunted for the luggage and maps in the bedroom in thrift stores and flea markets.” 
    She couldn’t say anything.  She put her own apartment together by herself with help from IKEA, and it didn’t look half as good as his did.  She didn’t have a balcony, though.
    “How far is your apartment?”  He turned to gaze at her.
    She shrugged.  “The other side of town,” she admitted.  She lived near her parents, in her old neighborhood.  She was comfortable there.
    “I was wondering, and you can tell me no,” he began, as he leaned back into the settee’s matching loveseat.  Her eyes were drawn to his muscular torso.  “If I could just get dressed at your apartment?”  Her eyebrows went up immediately.  “I mean, it makes more sense than dropping you at your place, coming back here to shower, and then going back to the city for work.  And besides that, your car is still at the office.  You’d have to take a cab to work, and there really isn’t any sense in that, is there?”
    It made sense, it really did.  But was she ready for that?  She was, she reminded herself, sitting on his balcony in his clothes after a night of passion that she couldn’t even imagine.  “No, that doesn’t make any sense,” she agreed.
    “So I can shower at your place?” he persisted.
    “Sure,” she shrugged.
    “Excellent,” he smiled, pleased with his small victory.  He was the perfect lawyer.
     
    “How big is your condo?” she wondered, as they walked through the second floor to drop off their mugs. 
    “Three floors, including the gym and the garage,” he said with a shrug.
    “Hmmm…”  She shouldn’t be surprised.  He was Levi Aronson’s son.  “How many bedrooms?” she asked as she walked past the gym.  She shook her head as she stared at all of the top of the line equipment.
    “Three,” he answered, as they made their way to the garage.  She started to doubt her decision to invite him to her place.  It was one bedroom, and that was about as big as his bathroom in his master bedroom.
    He opened the small trunk in his sports car, and threw in a hanger with a suit, dress shirt, and tie, and a small bag that contained shoes, socks, and a shaving kit.  She didn’t want to put her dirty clothes in with his clean ones, but he insisted.  The entire drive to her place she bit her lip and stared out the window, uneasy about what was to come.  Ben, on the other hand, chatted