XII

Frédérique stood in front of the mirror in Richie’s bathroom. She had barely slept that night: when she was past the point of exhaustion she became hyperactive and insomnia kicked in. She had gotten used to it by now and had learnt to deal with a whole day ahead of her on just a light nap. She looked at her swollen lips, her nipples were still hard and so sensitive that the soft lace of her bra felt like papersand. She fell raw all over, and felt her heart pounding inside her chest. She felt lightheaded and her fingers trembled.

Yes, the sex had been over the top amazing, but she realized it wasn’t just the sex: much of her satisfaction rested on the easiness she felt around Richie, how it all seemed to flow freely and without obstacles. She didn’t have to do anything in order for him to like her, but just be herself…and to hell if he didn’t know how to please her and take pleasure in everything her body had to offer all at the same time.

How long had it been it since she had felt this good with a man? Her previous relationships flashed in front of her eyes: she knew she had loved and had had a pretty decent sex life.  In remembering what she had felt before they left her, however, she also remembered how she had felt after they had left…and she remembered their excuses: some were very creative and some were plane lame, and she had regretted letting things go too far before she had finally managed to tell them.

If this felt so much better before, how much more would it hurt when it ended? Then she felt the sting again, and she looked away. She couldn’t deal with that right now. She didn’t want to.

…

Richie woke up to the sound of water running. He opened his eyes just enough to see it was the crack of dawn. Too early. He closed them again, assuming Frédérique would be right back and they’d stay in bed for a couple more hours. After a few minutes he heard the bathroom door open and the barely audible swish of fabric as she approached the bed. His lips curled up: Frédérique still had her shirt on.

He was expecting her to get under the covers again, but she didn’t. Richie opened his eyes when he felt Frédérique place a soft kiss on his lips and talk in a low, sweet voice:

“I need to leave” she was sitting by his side on the bed and had put her hand on his forearm. She had completely dressed back up and looked almost exactly as she had when she arrived more than 15 hours ago, except that she hadn’t any makeup on and her hair was lose and fell on both sides of her head. She had combed it and it looked silky and soft.

“Isn’t it too early?” he said lazily.

“Yes, but I still have to drive back to Manhattan: I should get going if I want to make it to work at a decent hour”, she raised her voice a little to let him know that she was serious.

He pulled her on top of him. “What if I kidnap you?”

“I’d call the police…” she humored him but keept the same tone in her voice, her eyes were on her finger as it followed the contour of Richie’s full lower lip, both her arms were flexed and tucked between her body and his and she could only move her hands. Frédérique’s voice was throaty and velvety.

She continued: “…and then we’d be one in jail and the other out of a job for sleeping with a client”. She finished and immediately stamped a kiss on his mouth. When Richie tasted her he couldn’t help but want more, so he grabbed her wrists tight and deepened the kiss. She gave in at first, but when she realized she was just about to be convinced, she pulled away.

“You’re impossible, you know that?”, Frédérique chuckled and changed her expression again: “I really, really need to go now or my bosses are going to call the police on me”. She sat back up but Richie’s hands were still gripping her wrists. She struggled softly and he released them to look at her: the night before her eyes were light brown, but they looked olive green now in the light of the morning. Richie seated up and motioned to get out of bed to accompany her but she pushed him back.

“Go back to sleep, you look tired”, Frédérique whispered and caressed his face with the back of her index finger, smoothly all the way down from his cheekbone to his jaw over his soft skin.

She placed a quick kiss on Richie’s lips and he returned the kiss. When she stood, he took her hand in his: “When will I see you again?”

Frédérique started to walk away looking back at Richie over her shoulder as her hand slowly slipped away from his. “I think we should leave it to karma”, she said.

Then she smiled, raised her shoulder to meet her chin and then she stuck the tip of her tongue out and bit it between her teeth.

Before Richie could say anything Frédérique was already out the door.

…..

In the hall while she waited for the elevator, Frédérique realized she already missed Richie. Don’t be stupid, she thought to herself as she entered the elevator. What’s the point in pursuing it? You know how that ends, everything’s alright just the way it is, don’t mess things up.

On her way down, all the memories from the night before flooded her mind again. She wanted him. So bad. She tried to clear her mind by concentrating on the numbers over the the door: 9…8…7…. until she convinced herself that she had finally got rid of her ramblings. When the elevator was passing through the second floor, she turned to look at herself in the mirror to check that her clothes were in the right place, but an idea materialized in her head as she stared into her own eyes.

Frédérique took a deep breath.

Let’s enjoy it then… – the doors slid open -…while it lasts.