Mary took a sip of her wine and fiddled with the glass stem. “I’ve heard gossip, and I see his name sometimes in the tabloids. After all, Wentworth Properties has made him very, very rich. He must be worth tens of millions.”
I nearly dropped my fork. “Oh, my god, he’s that David Wentworth? I never made the connection.”
“Yes, he’s that Wentworth. People say he’s ruthless, used to getting what he wants by any means. And I heard that his divorce—I think it was about three years ago—was pretty messy.”
“Well, thanks for the warning, Mary. I will be careful. I doubt anything will happen with this guy anyway. He must be used to having gorgeous women throw themselves at him.”
“You’re not the type to throw yourself at anyone, Gillian. I’m sure that’s very appealing to David.”
I thought of our passionate kiss in Ken and Jackie’s driveway and fought hard to keep an embarrassed blush at bay. Thank God Mary hadn’t witnessed that little scene.
That night I lay in bed, unable to sleep, my mind whirling. I thought about calling Anita—meeting David definitely fell into the “major news” category—but it was very late. And for some reason I wanted to keep this stunningly wonderful development to myself for a while.
I tossed and turned in bed for hours. I kept reliving every moment of our meeting—his electric-blue eyes and lazy smile, that unbelievable kiss. My heart was pounding. Please, God, let him call me…. I have to see him again.
Suddenly Miss Prudence and Miss Hornypants popped into my head. These two voices had first appeared during my adolescence, when my hormones and my good sense were constantly engaged in battle.
“You acted like a complete slut,” said Miss Prudence. “Letting a stranger kiss you and touch your breasts—in public! What were you thinking?”
“He wasn’t a complete stranger,” Miss Hornypants pointed out. “She’d known him a few hours.”
“A few hours!” Miss Prudence was outraged.
“It was just a kiss and a little fondling. It’s not like she dropped to her knees and gave him a blow job.”
“It was bad enough! He probably thinks she’s an easy piece of ass.”
“No, he doesn’t. He was very attracted to her, and she felt the same way. Why pretend otherwise? They simply acted on their feelings.”
“She’s going to regret—”
“Oh, both of you leave now!” I demanded.
Once they had disappeared from my mind, I turned my thoughts back to David. What would he be like in bed? I immediately knew the answer: amazing.
I pulled my nightshirt all the way up to my neck. I closed my eyes and massaged my hard nipples, remembering David’s fingers brushing gently against them. I imagined his lips and tongue on my breasts, kissing and licking, sucking and teasing…and then slowly making a wet trail down my stomach…. I imagined the roughness of his cheek against the soft skin of my thighs as he slowly parted them and lapped hungrily at my pussy…teasing my clit with the tip of his warm tongue….
I felt an insistent ache growing between my thighs. My breathing quickened. I spread my legs and slowly rubbed my pussy lips together. I was very wet. I slid two fingers inside, imagining David’s hard cock pumping into me, and rubbed my clit with my other hand. Within minutes I came intensely, convulsing and stifling a scream.
I didn’t know it then, but it was the first of many incredible orgasms David would give me.
2
I drifted through Sunday, hoping David would call my cell, knowing he probably wouldn’t. He didn’t. I fought down disappointment and anxiety. He will call me, he will call me…
Mary drove me to the station to catch the 4:00 train. I hugged her hard. “Thanks for the great weekend, Mary, it was just what I needed.”
“You can visit anytime, Gillian. And please remember what I said about David…I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Sure, I’ll be careful.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her I had already fallen hard for this guy—physically anyway.
The train ride back to the city was blissful, especially compared to the ride out. I thought of David the whole way. I didn’t think once about that other guy…what was his name…oh, right, Steve.
The city was still steaming hot. Nothing in my mailbox except a Visa bill with a $240 minimum payment due. Once I’d paid the bill and my rent, I’d have less than $300 in my checking account. I sighed as I realized I had to go back to temping.
I decided to lift my spirits by calling Anita. I gave her a blow-by-blow account of meeting David, leaving out only Aunt Mary’s warning and my orgasmic sexual fantasy about him.
Anita gave a low whistle. “David Wentworth! He’s quite a catch. Rich and good-looking. Elena Hernandez dated him for a few months.”
“Oh, god, you mean that gorgeous Brazilian model who did the Revlon campaign? I can’t compete with someone like her!” I squeaked.
“Elena is gorgeous, but she’s also a mean bitch. It’s no wonder he dumped her after a few months. And you’re gorgeous, too, Gillian.”
I snorted. “Yeah, right. At best I’m cute. But he probably won’t call me anyway.”
“Of course he will. And when he does, you have to let me know right away.”
I laughed. “Okay…you’ll be the first to know.”
I hung up and started some desultory cleaning. I had the fan on at full blast but was soaked with sweat within minutes. God only knew when I’d have enough money to buy a new air conditioner.
My cell phone rang. Anita again, I thought, with another tidbit of gossip about David. “Hello?”
“Gillian? Hi, it’s David Wentworth.”
My knees turned so weak I had to sit down. I pushed a sweaty strand of hair out of my face. “Oh, hi, David, how are you?” I said in my best faux-casual voice.
“Fine, and you?”
“Fine.” My palms were sweating, and I had to work hard to maintain a normal tone.
“I wondered if we could get together tomorrow night. Are you free?”
“Um, yes, I think so. I mean, yes, definitely.”
“Great. I thought we could have dinner at Francesca’s on Fifty-Second Street. Do you know it?”
“Oh, sure.” Actually I’d only read about it—Francesca’s was the new chic restaurant for celebrities and the super rich. I couldn’t afford a cup of coffee at that place.
“I have a six P.M. meeting…do you mind meeting me there around eight?”
“Sure, that’s fine.” I felt relieved. I didn’t want David to see my crappy apartment—or my crappy building or my crappy neighborhood, for that matter.
“Perfect. I’m really looking forward to seeing you again, Gillian.”
“Me, too, David.” We made small talk for a few minutes and then hung up. I was so proud that I’d managed to get through the conversation without sounding like Minnie Mouse or making a complete ass of myself.
I immediately dialed Anita’s cell. “He called! We’re having dinner tomorrow night at Francesca’s.”
She was almost as excited as I was. “That’s fast work. He must be really into you. And dinner at Francesca’s…he wants to impress you. What are you going to wear?”
“Oh, god, I hadn’t