the next morning. I smile and then pout. But what happened to “I want you as my present now?” No quid pro quo? He is no gentleman, we know. He knows how to hold, tug, bite, pull in all the right discrete places leading to indiscrete sensations.
Wait, how does he know to do all that? Or rather who has he been doing this to? An insidious thought has entered my mind, hooking into its flesh form. He cannot be reading about what to do to a woman and then using me as his experimental bitch? Now I am beyond curious. I need to know more. But I am not calling him to ask. I hope he will call so I can insert my query into the conversation then. And as if on cue and quite scaringly so, the phone starts ringing in the living room. It rings for the tenth time (yes, I am counting) when I reach it. As I breathe a hello into it, I glance at the clock on the wall. It says 9:30 a.m. I panic thinking that I am late for office again. And then realize its Saturday. And also realize that no one has countered my hello with their own. So I say another hello and of course it’s him—the mister of my sensation from my yesterday.
“Hi back. How are you?”
“Sorry, if I woke you. I waited an hour before calling just so I wasn’t cutting into your beauty sleep.”
“Uh-no, I am fine. Why are you calling, Mr.?”
“Why? Why do you think, Ms. Sharma? Was I the only one in the room yesterday?” His voice is tinged with surprise and hurt now, I think. I am rendered silent.
“So what are you up to today?” he asks as a way probably to distract me into finding my speech capabilities.
“Why? So you could come around and finish what you started?” I think I snap. Gosh! What is wrong with me? I am not starting on a good mood today.
“I would like to very much—come over and finish what we started yesterday.” His voice has dropped and become a little husky. Shit! Now what?
“Yes?” He prods quietly but urgently.
“Uh—I have plans today.”
“Cancel, please.”
“No!”
“Why not?”
“Because I am meeting a friend for lunch. I cannot postpone it anymore without offending her out of my life.”
“Hmmm, yes I guess we cannot offend friends but its okay to keep likely boyfriends from seeing you for every good reason in the world.”
“So how is tomorrow?” He asks without letting me respond to his attempt at sarcasm earlier.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you call me tomorrow and find out?” I challenge.
He laughs and accepts the challenge by saying, “Ok, I will call, Ms. Sharma. I guess this is how you want to play this. But know this—I am patient to a point but persistent. Yours is a losing battle against me because I do know that you like me and are willing. I just need to pursue the length of that willingness.”
Did he just say “length” of my willingness? Hmmmm!
“Sir, I am not playing with you. I am a simple girl trying to make a living in this hostile town.”
“Flirting are we Ms. Sharma?” “But keep this up and you know very well what is bound to happen sooner than later!” I can hear him smiling, the smug bastard.
“You have a good day, Sir.” I counter in my most acerbic voice.
“Oh! I will Ms. Sharma, I will. I will be spending it in my room with just thoughts of you invading my brain and everything I know I want to do to you when the opportunity arises!”
I drop the phone! It dangles next to my knees for a good thirty seconds before I pull it back up and up to my ear. He has hung up. Damn! I really have lost control of all this now. To the logical me, this is irritating. To my girly self, however, this feels strangely dangerous and exciting at the same time. Now what my brother or family would think about our clandestine trysts, I didn’t even want to know.
Speaking of my brother, his birthday is tomorrow so I need to be home. Okay, that’s a good plan, I think to myself. Just get home and be with family. This might help me take stock of the situation from a different yet more
Wait, how does he know to do all that? Or rather who has he been doing this to? An insidious thought has entered my mind, hooking into its flesh form. He cannot be reading about what to do to a woman and then using me as his experimental bitch? Now I am beyond curious. I need to know more. But I am not calling him to ask. I hope he will call so I can insert my query into the conversation then. And as if on cue and quite scaringly so, the phone starts ringing in the living room. It rings for the tenth time (yes, I am counting) when I reach it. As I breathe a hello into it, I glance at the clock on the wall. It says 9:30 a.m. I panic thinking that I am late for office again. And then realize its Saturday. And also realize that no one has countered my hello with their own. So I say another hello and of course it’s him—the mister of my sensation from my yesterday.
“Hi back. How are you?”
“Sorry, if I woke you. I waited an hour before calling just so I wasn’t cutting into your beauty sleep.”
“Uh-no, I am fine. Why are you calling, Mr.?”
“Why? Why do you think, Ms. Sharma? Was I the only one in the room yesterday?” His voice is tinged with surprise and hurt now, I think. I am rendered silent.
“So what are you up to today?” he asks as a way probably to distract me into finding my speech capabilities.
“Why? So you could come around and finish what you started?” I think I snap. Gosh! What is wrong with me? I am not starting on a good mood today.
“I would like to very much—come over and finish what we started yesterday.” His voice has dropped and become a little husky. Shit! Now what?
“Yes?” He prods quietly but urgently.
“Uh—I have plans today.”
“Cancel, please.”
“No!”
“Why not?”
“Because I am meeting a friend for lunch. I cannot postpone it anymore without offending her out of my life.”
“Hmmm, yes I guess we cannot offend friends but its okay to keep likely boyfriends from seeing you for every good reason in the world.”
“So how is tomorrow?” He asks without letting me respond to his attempt at sarcasm earlier.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you call me tomorrow and find out?” I challenge.
He laughs and accepts the challenge by saying, “Ok, I will call, Ms. Sharma. I guess this is how you want to play this. But know this—I am patient to a point but persistent. Yours is a losing battle against me because I do know that you like me and are willing. I just need to pursue the length of that willingness.”
Did he just say “length” of my willingness? Hmmmm!
“Sir, I am not playing with you. I am a simple girl trying to make a living in this hostile town.”
“Flirting are we Ms. Sharma?” “But keep this up and you know very well what is bound to happen sooner than later!” I can hear him smiling, the smug bastard.
“You have a good day, Sir.” I counter in my most acerbic voice.
“Oh! I will Ms. Sharma, I will. I will be spending it in my room with just thoughts of you invading my brain and everything I know I want to do to you when the opportunity arises!”
I drop the phone! It dangles next to my knees for a good thirty seconds before I pull it back up and up to my ear. He has hung up. Damn! I really have lost control of all this now. To the logical me, this is irritating. To my girly self, however, this feels strangely dangerous and exciting at the same time. Now what my brother or family would think about our clandestine trysts, I didn’t even want to know.
Speaking of my brother, his birthday is tomorrow so I need to be home. Okay, that’s a good plan, I think to myself. Just get home and be with family. This might help me take stock of the situation from a different yet more
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