Page 21 of To Fall or Not to Fall

“I live in a bachelor pad,” he says, laughing slightly. “It’s a penthouse. Very expensive with beautiful views. I have a large black leather couch, a white table, some chairs, a large Persian rug, and pieces of art on the walls. It’s very pretty, but it’s very clean.” He shrugs.

“Well, that’s nice. Clean is good.”

He frowns. “I guess 'clean’ is not exactly the word I was looking for. It’s very pristine, very clinical. It doesn’t feel like a home.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he says, running his hand through his hair.

There’s a slightly contrite expression on his face.

“I’ve never really thought about it before.

I spend so much time in the office, I just go back to eat and sleep.

And don’t get me wrong, it’s lovely. People come over and they are absolutely gobsmacked by the views.

I have floor-to-ceiling windows all through my place.

You can see downtown Manhattan and Central Park. ”

“Wow.” My eyes widen. “That sounds expensive.”

“It was a couple of million, but I got it back in the day.”

“A couple of million?” My jaw drops, and he flinches.

“Sorry, maybe that’s insensitive.”

“What? What’s insensitive?”

“You need money in your business, and I have money, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m boasting.”

“Oh my gosh, no. Please.” I shudder. “I’m happy that you have money, and I don’t care.

I don’t expect you to give me any money,” I say quickly.

“Please don’t think I’m a gold digger. I don’t have any expectations, but I don’t hate you or anything because you do have a lot of money.

I mean, good for you. I’m sure you work hard for it. ”

“I do. I work very hard.”

“But you work hard too.”

“There’s an imbalance in the world,” I say.

“It’s unfortunate, but I guess that’s what capitalism is.

We can all work really hard, and some of us can make millions and billions, and some of us make hundreds of dollars.

” I shrug. “When I was growing up, my granny always said to me, ‘In life, don’t look for a job that’s going to make you money.

Look for a job that’s going to make you happy.

As long as you can pay your bills, you’re okay. ’”

He stares at me for a couple of seconds. “Do you still agree with her advice?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you still agree with the advice of go for what you love and not what pays the bills?”

“Well, no. Did you hear me? I said it still has to pay the bills. It just shouldn’t be the sole focus.”

“True,” he says. “And how do you feel about what you do now?” He leans back against the countertop and studies my face.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you love your bookstore, right?”

“I do.”

“But you’re not really able to pay the bills.”

“I’m not.”

“And you might lose the place.”

“I might.” My heart drops.

“So where do you think you stand in the big picture of it all?” He sounds frustrated and I’m feeling pissed. “You’re not going to be rich continuing the way that you’re going.”

“I don’t need to make money as long as I’m happy.” My voice sounds sad.

“But what if you can’t live off of the income at all.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m still hoping that a miracle will happen. I could win the lottery and everything would then be okay.”

“Do you play the lottery?”

“No.” I burst out laughing. He offers me a wry smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to talk business. I didn’t want to ruin the date.”

“It’s okay. Sometimes we have to be realistic in life, as well.” I shrug. “I need to acknowledge the truth. We all can’t be following our crazy dreams if they don’t pay well; especially if we’re not trust fund babies.” I stare at him and he flinches.

“But hey, why don’t we get out of here?” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me to him.

“But we were going to decorate the gingerbread men.”

“But you’re all dressed up in your silky, slinky dress,” he says, looking me up and down, his eyes lingering. “And I don’t want to get you dirty…”

“You don’t?” I say.

He licks his lips and shrugs. “I mean, maybe I want to get you a little dirty, but not with crumbs.”

“Not with crumbs, huh? With what?”

“I don’t know if I want to tell you that. I don’t want you to think I’m a big bad wolf.”

“But you already told me that you are.”

“I did?” He grins. “Maybe I did but…maybe, I want to show you later.”

“Show me what?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

“Uh huh.” I tap my finger against my lips. “We shall see.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not all talk and no action.”

“I hope not.”

“I’m saying that I want tonight to be special.”

“I want to get to know you, and I want to see where this could go.”

“And where are you hoping this will go?” He gives me a wicked smile.

“Well, I am a contradictory character, Theo.” I lower my lashes. “I can’t tell you all of my secrets.”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means that sometimes I like to do things upside down and inside out.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I grab his hand and tug. “Follow me.” My heart is racing and I can’t believe I am taking the lead like this.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” I say as I lead him toward my bedroom. His eyes widen as I push him inside and then lock the door.

“What is going on here?” He looks shocked.

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s obvious we both know where you want the night to end.” He smiles.

“Perhaps, but what if my roommates get home?” I wonder if he’s nervous.

“I don’t care. Do you?”

“No.” I grab him and pull him towards me, pushing him down onto the bed. He reaches up and grabs my wrists and pulls me down so that I’m on the bed next to him, and we’re laughing.

“I don’t really understand what’s going on here, Ava.”

“I think that we have a lot of pent-up emotional and sexual tension. If we start our date with this tension and energy, all we’ll be thinking about is this when the night ends.

But if the night begins with a little something something,” I say, licking my lips, “then we can enjoy the getting-to-know-each-other part without thinking about what comes next.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” he asks as he runs his fingers down the side of my arm.

“I may be.” I look over at him. I cannot believe how bold and brazen I’m being, but it’s true. I want him, and he wants me, and he’s a tourist in town. It’s not like we have decades upon decades to get to know each other. Right now, I feel like I’m going to burst.

I just need to feel him, to touch him. My body feels like it’s on fire.

“I mean, if you don’t want to?—”

“I very much want to,” he says as he unbuttons his shirt and throws it to the ground. He grins, and I feel his body roll over on top of me. His lips are on the side of my face and then on my neck. I feel his hands on my arms, then sliding down my thighs toward my calves, and then back up again.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he says.

“But I’m scared I’m going to rip this dress. I guess I should take it off,” I say, jumping off the bed and letting it slide down.

He stares at me in my bra and panties and growls. I watch as he jumps off the bed and pulls his shorts off. He’s standing there in a pair of tight white briefs, and I lick my lips.

“Come here,” he says, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me toward him. I feel his fingers on my back, undoing the clasp of my bra, and suddenly it’s on the ground.

“Beautiful,” he says, looking down at me.

My breasts crush against his chest, and I feel his lips on mine.

As we fall back onto the bed, he moves me on top of him so that my panties are pressed against his briefs.

I rub back and forth slowly, loving the feel of his growing bulge between my legs. He reaches up and squeezes my nipples.

“You have the most beautiful, bountiful breasts,” he says as he brings me down and takes my right nipple into his mouth and sucks. I moan slightly as he slips his right hand between my legs and rubs gently.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he says, slipping a finger inside my panties and rubbing my clit. I moan as I feel my wetness soaking his fingers, and he slips his finger inside of me. I cry out, “Oh, fuck.”

“Are we really doing this?” I say.

“I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to,” he says, rolling me onto my back, then pulling down my panties and spreading my legs.

He kisses down between the valley of my breasts to my stomach, then I feel his tongue moving across my mound.

Suddenly, it’s between my legs, and he’s licking and sucking on my clit.

His tongue thrusts into me more powerfully than anything in a long time, and I can feel my entire body shuddering and shaking.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he murmurs against me as he licks and eats me out.

I grab his shoulders and squeeze. I can feel my fingernails digging into his skin, and I only hope I’m not drawing blood, but this is something I’ve been waiting for, for what feels like forever.

As I feel my orgasm coming, he lifts me faster and faster.

“Come for me,” he says. “Come for me.”

I moan out loud as I orgasm, and I hear him chuckling slightly as he licks me dry.

“Fuck, you were ready for that, weren’t you?” he says, as he kisses back up my body. His lips touch mine, and I can taste myself on him, but I don’t care because I taste him, and I feel him.

I reach down and pull at him, his groans filling the room. I run my fingers back and forth. He’s hard, long, and thick.

“I don’t even know if you’re going to fit inside of me,” I say, and he chuckles.

“I think it will work.” He looks deep into my eyes and grabs my fingers. “If you’re sure…”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” I say.

He reaches his fingers down between my legs again and plays with me until I start getting wet again.

He groans as he positions himself between my legs, and before I know what’s happening, he’s thrusting inside me.

My legs wrap around his waist as he goes hard and fast. I feel his breath on my ears.

My breasts crush against his chest as he fucks me hard and fast, whispering filthy words into my ear.

“Fuck. I can’t control myself,” he says. Then he counts down, “Three… two… one…” and I feel him explode inside me.

“Oh, shit,” I gasp.

He collapses on me, kissing me hard and fast. His fingers are in my hair, touching the side of my face.

“Are you on birth control?” he whispers, and I nod and smile.

“Yeah,” he groans as he rolls back. “I should have asked you that first, but I was just out of my mind.”

“That’s okay,” I say. “I think when we’re together, we’re both out of our minds.”

“I think you’re right,” he says, nodding slowly. He reaches over and brushes my hair away from my face. I watch as he idly touches my skin, running his fingers in circles around my belly button.

“That was fucking hot,” he says, grinning. “Maybe I want to do it again.”

“Maybe I want to do it again, as well,” I say, smiling. “But should we do it before or after our actual date?”

“That’s up to you,” he says, grinning.

I stare back at him.

“I think we’ll do it after,” he says, leaning over and kissing me. “Because if I fuck you again right now, I don’t know that we’re ever going to leave this bedroom.”

“Are you scared that my roommates are going to come back and have questions?”

“No,” he says. “I’m scared that you’re going to think I came here for sex when actually, I came to woo you and show you that, underneath it all, I’m a decent guy.”

“I never said… I never said I didn’t think you were,” I say, grinning at him.

“I know, but I want to prove myself to you. I want to show you that I’m not just this handsome man who walked into your bookstore.”

“It’s okay, Oscar Theo Wilder,” I say his name out loud. His face stills, and his eyes grow weary for a second, but he offers me a warm smile.

“Call me Theo. Just Theo.”

“Why? You don’t like Oscar Wilder?”

“Not so much,” he says, looking slightly perturbed.

“Hey, is everything okay? You’re not a wanted felon or anything?”

“No, I’m not. I’m fine.” He brings me toward him and kisses me hard and fast. “I just want to be with you. I want to touch you, to feel you. No more questions. Not now.”

“Okay, Theo,” I say. As he kisses the side of my face and I squeeze his muscles, I feel high. I feel special. I feel warm.

But in the back of my mind, there’s a ticking, like something’s not quite right, and I don’t know what it is. I hope I haven’t just made a big mistake. I hope the man I’ve just given myself to is as good as I think he is.