Cecilia Scott - Him

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page HIM Cecilia Scott

Chapter 1. The night I met Him …

Chapter 2. He comes over unexpectedly …

Chapter 3. I can’t find Him …

Chapter 4. Rushing home to Him …

Chapter 5. Best friends and abandoned cats …

Chapter 6. I can’t find Him, redux.

Chapter 7. Waiting to see Him …

Chapter 8. He’s going to Paris. Paris?

Chapter 9. A glorious weekend with Him …

Chapter 10. Sexting …

Chapter 11. Without Him, my life unravels …

Chapter 12. We break up …

Chapter 13. The Boy, oh, The Boy …

Chapter 14. Loving The Boy …

Chapter 15. The Boy and I live in a fantasy world …

Chapter 16. A trip to the mountains with The Boy. The Boy …

Chapter 17. And then it was Him again, Him …

Chapter 18. Letting go of The Boy, the beautiful, beautiful BOY …

Chapter 19. Sam attempts to intervene by reading me the riot act …

Chapter 20. Him, Him, Oh, My God, Him

Chapter 21. Another intervention …

Chapter 22. I love Him. I love Him. I just do …

Chapter 23. Him, up close and personal …

Chapter 24. The promises I so wanted to hear …

Chapter 25. A trip with Him, destination unknown …

Chapter 26. What happens in Vegas …

Chapter 27. Confusion …

Chapter 28. Christmas without Him

Chapter 29. The Boy …

Chapter 30. Hysteria …

Chapter 31. Doomsday

Chapter 32. The Boy, The Boy …

Chapter 33. I have lost Him …

Chapter 34. Post Script

Copyright

About the Publisher

And I do lift my aching arms to you,

And I do lift my anguished, avid breast

And I do weep for very pain of you,

And fling myself at the doors of sleep, for rest,

D. H. Lawrence, ‘A Love Song’

This is what I know: I took a short cut to the real thing. I slept with a man I’d known for less than an hour. It wouldn’t have been the first time nor the last. Before you make a value judgment, it’s just who I am. It’s not an everyday thing. Hell, months can go by, but I have gone down the road of indiscriminate sex before. Who hasn’t, really? It’s part of the rite of passage of being a young woman. I’d had the requisite long-term relationship before. But no one had come even close to being LTR material since then until HIM. HIM.

So how did I meet HIM? I remember perfectly. I’d gone to a reading of my sophomore Community College students’ work at the Downtown Library. It was a big deal for them and we’d all dressed up for the occasion. I was wearing a flowery vintage lacy dress that showed off all my curves. I’m ordinarily a jeans and T-shirt kind of gal, but the occasion gave me an excuse to wear something pretty. It made me feel alive and sexy.

I was sitting next to THE BOY during the reading. Our shoulders were touching. I’d always had a thing for him since the day he walked into my class when he was a freshman. He’d been taking my classes every semester and acted like he had the hots for me. During the readings, I tried to listen to the students read but mainly I was thinking about how nice it would be to have sex with THE BOY. He was on the swim team. He was dark and sleek and had a swimmer’s body.

After the reading, my students asked me to go with them to some diner down the street but I begged off. I’d been a community college instructor for too long. Hanging out with the students had lost much of its charm.

I bid them adieu. There was a new high-rise hotel across the street from the library. The building was beautiful, with strips of neon against a tall glass exterior. It looked like a hotel you’d find in Manhattan. I decided to check out the bar. A drink sounded good. With any luck, there’d be a handsome man wanting to pay attention to me. It had been a while since I’d been with a man. To be perfectly honest, THE BOY had gotten me all hot and bothered but it would be better to find a more appropriate suitor.

The bar was very sleek. It was all glass and black furnishing and recessed lighting. And there he was. HIM. He nodded as he beckoned for me to come over to HIM. He ordered us martinis. It sounded good.

We began talking. I looked at HIM. He was tall and muscular with ever so slanted eyes. He was handsome in a take-charge kind of way.

He was not wearing a wedding ring.

I looked into his eyes and knew I would sleep with HIM that evening.

As he talked to me we were both getting more and more turned on. I looked sexy – all soft curves with straight brown hair and large luminous brown eyes. I knew I’d sleep with HIM soon.

Looking at HIM I knew he was already making love to me in his mind. Both of us were holding our breath in sexual anticipation. It was only a matter of time.

So what was a nice woman like myself doing having sex with a stranger? I wasn’t really desperate. Not really. I had a good job as an instructor at a junior college teaching English Lit and Creative Writing classes. Some of the students held promise. It wasn’t a bad job. I taught four classes, three in the morning and one in the early afternoon, and didn’t have classes on Fridays.

I lived in a duplex on a half-acre of land. It was a cosy place with a fireplace and a pretty backyard with fruit trees. I grew a small vegetable garden during the summer months.

I wasn’t looking for a relationship when I met HIM. I didn’t want anything permanent. Or so I thought. I just wanted sex. At least it seemed that it was what I wanted until I met HIM. So what if it was dangerous? What did I have to lose? I just wanted the touch of a man.

I looked at HIM sitting next to me. He was wearing a grey wool suit. His golden blond hair was thick. I desired HIM.

He told me he was a partner at a law firm that specialised in International Law. He’d completed law school at an Ivy League university.

I could envision already how good our bodies would look together. I didn’t ask HIM how old he was but he appeared to be in his mid-forties.

‘Our headquarters are south of here,’ he said, mentioning a city about fifty miles away. ‘But I’m currently working on a case at our downtown office and staying at the hotel.’

He leaned into me. ‘I was bored sitting in my room. You’re such a delightful surprise.’ Our eyes met. He placed his hand lightly on mine. ‘I’m divorced with two children.’ For a moment he looked sad and lost. ‘My ex kept the house. I rent a small apartment near my kids.’

We sat there in silence as I took in his information.

‘I want you –’ he whispered in my ear.

‘Yes.’

I thanked my lucky stars he was not already taken, although I would’ve made love to HIM anyway. I wanted HIM that badly.

I’d never been with a man like HIM before. I tended toward the struggling artist type. Most of the men in my life drove ten-year-old Toyota Corollas. They worked at Starbucks while writing screenplays they could never sell. They had roommates or had moved back in with their parents.

‘Would you like another drink?’ he asked.

‘Sure,’ I replied.

He ordered another round. The room started to swirl. I was feeling light-headed. I wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or the close proximity of HIM.

After taking the last sip of the martini, he leaned further into me and kissed me on the neck. I gasped.

‘I want you in my room.’

‘Of course,’ I said. ‘Of course.’

He paid the bill. We stood up. I turned toward HIM. He pressed himself up against me so I could feel his erection, and kissed me hard.