An Unintentional Affair (The Affair Series Book 1) (3 page)

I kept checking the
clock. It felt like time was standing still and seven o’clock would never
arrive. Myra, Clint’s wife, was in paying bills. Early that afternoon, I heard
Clint and Myra arguing. He realized I could hear them yelling at each other, so
he slammed his office door shut. I wondered if they were having marital
problems; they seemed at odds with each other a lot lately, and Clint was generally
on edge about everything. All I heard Myra say before Clint shut the door was,
“It has to stop!”

By mid-afternoon it was
painfully quiet around the studio. The anticipation of my date with Adam was
killing me. I was beyond distracted. Clint owed me a few hours of comp time, so
I asked him if I could use it and take off early. He laughed. He knew “Mr.
Wonderful” was on my mind and in my future for the evening. After a few minutes
of my begging, he finally said okay. He kindly let me have the time without
giving me the third degree about my plans.

Sam saw me packing up early
and came over to my desk. “Are you going out with him tonight?” he asked, more
hurt than angry.

“Yeah, I am,” I said,
not offering any more detail.

“Well, I hope he’s good
to you. There was something about him when I saw him yesterday that I just didn’t
trust. Just be careful, okay? And remember, you can always call me…anytime.”

“Thank you, Sam. I
really appreciate that. You have a good weekend, too.” With that I was out the
door.

A few years earlier, I
dated a guy who worked in high finance, and we often went to parties that were
“cocktail attire” or even black tie. There were several dresses I rotated wearing
to all of those soirees, but I had completely worn them out during that era. My
current wardrobe options for a date with the stylish Adam Comstock were nonexistent,
but I knew exactly where to find the perfect dress. Forever 21. A little black
dress had occupied a window there for weeks that had my name on it. I just
hoped they had my size.

Floating into the shop
on cloud nine, I perused the racks to see if there was anything else that might
be more appropriate. I came across the dress that hung in the window. It really
was perfect, and there was one size six left. I ducked into the dressing room to
try it on. It fit perfectly. Cut just low enough to be enticing but not too
revealing to scream “please fuck me.” The lines of the dress hugged my curves
in just the right places, but the hemline was soft and flowing providing just
the right amount of effervescence. I flipped my hair back and forth over my
shoulder a few times and practiced some facial expressions in the mirror. I
imagined most of the women Adam had been with were sultry and sophisticated,
and I desperately wanted him to see me that way, too. I envisioned his velvety-soft
hands gently caressing my back above the plunging backline and his warm fingers
unzipping the dress, allowing the soft fabric to fall gently to the floor. The
thought sent a shiver up my spine, and that unmistakable flutter returned to my
stomach. I knew it was going to be a night I would never forget.

On the subway ride back
to my apartment, I got another text from Bec. She and I had been conversing by
text for two days. I worked days at the studio, and she worked nights as a
bartender, so our opposite schedules made it hard to talk. I was dying to tell
her about the amazing Adam Comstock, but after tonight, there would be a lot
more to tell. Her text read:
have fun & be good…really good ;).
It
made me smile. She knew it had been a long time since I dated anyone, so this
was really important to me.

When I got home, the
first order of business was a shower. I hung my new dress on the bathroom door
so the steam could help smooth out the slight crinkle it had developed in the
bag. As the suds cascaded off my body, I imagined Adam’s sleek fingers touching
me in places that hadn’t been touched by a man in way too long. My heart beat
quickened and my thoughts were racing. My mind flashed back to the kiss on my
doorstep two nights earlier. He had to have felt the same connection I did.

I dried my hair and
took a curling iron to it to give it a soft wave and just the right amount of
bounce. When searching for something to wear over the last couple of days, I’d
come across a hidden treasure still wrapped in tissue paper– a black lace Lise
Charmel ensemble, including black lace panties, matching bra, garter belt, and
silk stockings. They had never seen the light of day because my high-finance boyfriend
had dumped me before I had an opportunity to show them off. I had also almost
forgotten about the four-inch Blahniks that the same boyfriend had given me
when we had to attend a black tie dinner with all of his bosses. Nothing I
owned at the time would have been impressive enough for his crowd, so he made
sure I had what I needed to show me off. Those Blahniks were a pair of “fuck-me”
heels if I had ever seen one. The Blahniks with the Charmel ensemble were the
perfect finishing touches for my new little black dress. I tried to imagine
Adam’s eyes at the moment he discovered the Charmel collection. That thought
made me flush, arousing a hint of wetness between my legs.

It was a few minutes
before seven, when my buzzer rang. Damn, he was early. Calling down on the
intercom “3B,” I buzzed the downstairs door open. I left the apartment door cracked
so he could come in while I touched up my makeup. I was putting on my favorite Tempting-Red
lipstick when I heard his voice.

“WWWooowww!” he said,
startling me. He was standing in the doorway of my bathroom, exploring every
inch of me with his intense blue eyes, twirling a red rose between his fingertips.
He looked incredibly sexy in a crisp pair of jeans, starched white shirt, sport
jacket, and cowboy boots. He stepped back and twirled his finger, suggesting he
wanted me to turn around so he could take in the full view. I obeyed, doing a
full pirouette. His stare captivated me as if he was fondling me with his eyes.
“You are stunning,” he breathed.

“Thank you,” I said
with a slight curtsy, and added as I looked down, “Love the boots.” The
bathroom suddenly felt claustrophobic. His presence, even just in the doorway, filled
the room. He closed the short distance between us, put the rose down, and put
both hands on my hips, taking control of my mouth with his. His kiss was wet
and warm, his tongue lapping at mine graceful and filled with hunger. I put my
arms around his neck and combed my fingers through his silky hair. My heart
skipped a beat as his hands slid up my torso, thumbs lightly tickling my
nipples through the soft fabric. I couldn’t control the soft moan of desire
that escaped reacting to his touch.

He looked down at me, his
mouth curling in a sly smile and asked, “Are you ready?” He was taunting me, on
one hand asking if I was ready to go to dinner but really meaning, was I ready
for him, for every hard inch of his eager body. I was totally ready for him,
all of him. I ached to feel his long, velvety fingers gliding through my silky wetness.
It was going to take every ounce of self-discipline to maintain composure
through dinner.

He entwined my fingers
with his and led me into the living room. I ducked into the kitchen and filled
a bud vase with water for the rose. “Thank you for the rose. It’s very
beautiful.”

“Just like you,” he
added.

I gave him a peck on
the cheek and went to grab my wrap. He took it from me as if he was going to drape
it over my shoulders
,
but
instead, he pulled on both ends,
drawing me close. He kissed me hard, an “I want to fuck you
now
” kind of
kiss. His breathing quickened. He inched back and perched on a bar stool at my
kitchen counter so we were eye to eye, mouth to mouth. I threw my arms around
his neck and got totally lost in his seductive kiss as he nipped at my lips and
teased my tongue with his. He dropped the wrap and put both of his enormous
hands on my ass, pulling me into him. I could feel his hardness pushing back
and swelling as we kissed. He reached down and stroked my inner thigh with his
forefinger. My clit was throbbing, aching to be touched as his hand slid
closer. His eyes lit up when his finger met the clip of the garter at the top
of my silk stocking. He froze for a second, with a cunning smile, and then he
kissed me hard, engulfing my mouth with his.

He stopped abruptly and
held me at arm’s length. “Emily Ryan, you take my breath away. I want to take
my time with you, taste every inch of you, and make you come like you’ve never
come in your life.”

Holy shit!
No one had ever spoken to me like that, been so open
about sex or what he wanted. His arousal and this proposition sent shivers
through every nerve ending in my body. I wanted him badly. “You paint a very
erotic picture, Mr. Comstock,” I said in the most seductive, cunning voice I
could muster. “And I would like to ride you until you can’t stand it a moment longer.”
I raised an eyebrow and smiled at him. I couldn’t believe these words were coming
from my mouth. I’d never been so bold with a man before.

He seemed genuinely
surprised at my response, and obviously turned on by it. His eyes widened, and
he took a deep breath. “Well, then, I guess we should get some sustenance.”

He picked my wrap up
off the floor, circled behind me, and gently lifted the soft curls as he draped
it over my shoulders. He embraced me from behind, and placed his warm hand,
fingers splayed, on my belly, and pulled me against his rock-hard erection, kissing
my neck. I went limp in his arms, my heart pounding, and overwhelmed by how my
body was reacting to his touch. “Shall we?” he whispered in my ear as he nipped
at it.

Alfredo’s was half a
dozen blocks from my apartment, so we walked in the cool night air. It felt
good against my skin, which was still steaming from our foreplay. As we walked,
Adam slid his hand under my wrap and up my back, grazing the bare skin between
my shoulder blades. My back arched in an uncontrollable reflex to his luscious
fingers and seductive touch. Adam told me that Alfredo’s had become his new favorite
neighborhood place. The decor was elegant without being pretentious. The space was
filled with soft pools of light, giving the whole room a warm glow. The high
backs of the plush booths absorbed the defined words of conversations, leaving
only a murmur. Occasional laughter wafted through, conveying a festive mood
while melodic Italian music filled the air. Our table wasn’t quite ready, so we
took a seat at the bar. The female bartender noticed Adam instantly and headed in
our direction.

“Hi, Adam,” she said
with what I felt was a little too much familiarity in her voice. Her cat-like
green eyes locked onto his.

“Hi, Sandy. How’re you
this evening?”

“Better now that you’re
in the house,” she cooed at him.

I cleared my throat and
introduced myself. “I’m Emily Ryan.” I held out my hand to shake hers. She
looked at me, a little annoyed that I had broken the trance she had going with
Adam.

“Nice to meet you,
Emily. Sandy Nelson,” she forced out. Sandy returned her attention to Adam. “We
got a new shipment in of that micro-brew you like so much. Can I pour you one?”
She knew what kind of beer he liked!
How much time does he spend here? How
well does he know Sandy Nelson?
Now I understood why this was his “new favorite
neighborhood place.”

“No, I’ll save the beer
for another time.” He turned to me and asked, “Do you like champagne?” I tried
to break my train of thought away from his relationship with Sandy and
concentrate on him. I nodded, and he ordered two glasses of Veuvé Clicquot. Sandy
raised an eyebrow and looked at me, as if to say,
Aren’t you a lucky bitch?

My jealousy was raging,
but I had to keep it under wrap. “How do you know Sandy?” I asked Adam,
feigning only slight interest when I was burning to know every detail.

“We go back a ways,” he
said. “I met her when she was waitressing at Arturo’s years ago, and we’ve just
kept in touch along the way.”

Kept in touch…how
much touching?
Was she one of the
women he’d known whom he’d referred to the other night at TJ’s?

“That’s cool,” I said, my
excitement dwindling by the minute.

The champagne arrived,
and thankfully it was getting busier, so Sandy couldn’t hang around and make
small talk.

Adam handed me a glass
and clinked. “Here’s to being breathless,” he toasted. I smiled, trying to
shake off the foul mood that was brewing inside me. The champagne would
certainly help.

Within a few minutes,
the hostess came to tell us our table was ready. I had polished off the
champagne, attempting to lighten up and relax a bit. Sandy came over to settle
the tab. She eyed my glass and gave Adam a look like,
This chick’s a lush
.
I was probably reading too much into it, but that’s the way she made me feel.

She handed Adam the
receipt to sign and said with a wink, “Come in and visit with me sometime soon.
I’ve missed you.” My blood was boiling again, but I desperately tried not to let
it show.

“Thanks, Sandy, I
will.”

As we walked toward our
table, a stunning, lanky blonde was bee lining it straight toward Adam. She was
almost as tall as he was and dressed in a sophisticated black linen sheath
dress with exquisite silver and turquoise jewelry to set off her equally
blue-green eyes. Her hair was wrapped in a perfect figure-eight with just a few
wisps loose around her exquisite face. She and Adam embraced and kissed each
other on both cheeks. I was mortified. I felt like a twelve-year-old in my
first party dress next to this goddess. He held both of her hands in his and
talked with her softly for a minute. When he turned to me, I must have looked stunned.

“Oh, Emily, this is
Sophia,” he said, smiling.

She didn’t offer me her
hand. She just nodded in my direction and said, “Hello.”

I glared at Adam. “Nice
to meet you,” I said, gritting my teeth. I managed to squeeze out, “Excuse me,”
as I pushed past her and Adam, and ran out the front door.

A taxi had just pulled
up, delivering a couple coming to enjoy an evening at Alfredo’s. There was a
God…. I hopped in and told the cab driver, “Take me to Two Brothers’ Bar. Fast!”
My phone was already buzzing. He was trying to call me. I switched it off and began
to cry.