Chapter Text
"From the gentleman in the corner."
The woman at the end of the bar looked up as the tumbler of scotch was placed in front of her by the scruffy bartender.
Tucking her bobbed red hair behind her ear, she held up the glass toward the darkened corner, meeting the eyes of a middle aged man sitting alone at a table there. He smiled briefly and returned the gesture, then went back to the newspaper he seemed to be engrossed in. Well, this was intriguing. She had thought for sure that he was going to demand at least a banal conversation in return for his $10 investment, but to her surprise, he seemed uninterested.
The scotch was smoky and she allowed it to swirl in her mouth for a second before it slid down her throat. Soon, she found her eyes drawn to her benefactor again, free to roam unhindered by his stare. He looked mid-fiftyish with thick, wavy hair, graying at the temples. He had taken his sport coat off and rolled up the sleeves of his light blue dress shirt, and she noticed muscular forearms and lean wrists that led to large hands and long, slender fingers. His forehead was furrowed in concentration and she couldn't quite make out his eyes, but she could see he had an oval-shaped face with a large, prominent nose and a strong jaw. Oh my, he was a good looking man, she admitted to herself.
She licked her lips unconsciously and caught her bottom lip between her teeth and as if he could feel her eyes on him, he looked up. Shit, she was caught. He quirked a brow and she smiled sheepishly. Already almost 2 scotches deep, she felt the liquid courage pulsing in her veins and decided to take the plunge and introduce herself. Glass in hand, she sauntered toward him, making sure to add just the right amount of sway to her hips as she did. His eyes never left hers.
"I figured if I'm going to keep getting caught looking at you, I should probably introduce myself. I'm Diane," she said, extending her hand in greeting.
He chuckled. "Jeff. Nice to meet you Diane." He shook her hand and held on just a fraction too long.
"Thank you for the drink, Jeff."
He gestured for her to sit and she took the seat across from him at the little table, leg brushing his as she pushed her chair in. She wondered if the heat she felt in her cheeks could be blamed on the scotch or the proximity of the man. Either way, it left her feeling a bit giddy.
"My pleasure," he drawled, voice soft and rich like velvet.
"If you don't mind my asking, what brings you out on a Wednesday evening?" He asked.
She smiled demurely. "They have a great jazz band on Wednesdays," she said. "You're in for a treat if you plan to stay a while."
"Do you plan to stay a while, Diane?" His eyes seemed to implore her.
"Yes," she said simply.
"Then so do I."
Her eyes held his as she swirled her finger around the rim of her glass then brought it to her lips, eliciting an almost imperceptible intake of breath from her companion.
"And what brings YOU out on a Wednesday evening?"
He tried once to answer but his voice seemed to fail him and he had to clear his throat.
"Well, I'm here from out of town, been in seminars all day. I thought it would be nice to unwind with a drink after a long day. Some of my peers were supposed to meet me here, but it appears I've been stood up."
"Lucky me," she replied, smiling seductively.
"What is it that you do?" She feigned interest. Honestly, she was just trying to distract herself from staring at his hands as they tapped a slow rhythm on the tabletop.
"Cardiologist at Providence," he answered.
"Oh, a mender of broken hearts, huh? Are you a breaker of hearts too?" Oh God, did those words really just come out of her mouth? What on earth was she doing?
He seemed to find her charming though, and despite her cheesy flirting, he chuckled.
As if the spirits had heard her prayer to end the conversation, the band chose that moment to begin their set, starting appropriately with 'You Go to my Head'. The piano dissolved and the pretty young singer stepped up to the mic:
You go to my head
You linger like a haunting refrain
And I find you spinning round
In my brain
Like the bubbles in a glass of champagne
You go to my head
He held his hand out to her and she slid into his arms on the tiny dance floor.
You go to my head
Like a sip of sparkling burgundy brew
And I find the very mention of you
Like the kicker in a julep or two
The thrill of the thought
That you might give a thought
To my plea, casts a spell over me
Their joined hands rested against his chest and their cheeks were so close together that she could feel his evening stubble against her face. The heady scent of his cologne filled her senses. Their movements were slow, sensual, deliberate.
Still I say to myself
Get ahold of yourself
Can't you see that it never can be
You go to my head with a smile
That makes my temperature rise
Like a summer with a thousand Julys
You intoxicate my soul with your eyes
Though I'm certain that this heart of mine
Hasn't a ghost of a chance
In this crazy romance
You go to my head, you go to my head
As the piano player faded on the refrain, he immediately went into Davis's 'Blue in Green' and the singer moved away to make room for the trumpet player at center stage.
The first wail of the instrument hit her and she moved her cheek gradually closer to his. In turn, his hand at the small of her back pressed her tighter against him, heat branding her so that she had to suck in a breath to steady herself.
Every note of the song was slicing through her and she found herself turning her head toward him, lips grazing the side of his neck and feeling the pulse there.
He slowly untangled their hands and reached into his shirt pocket, and a moment later she felt something flat and rectangular being pressed into her palm. His room key.
"Yes," she whispered close to his ear, and he pulled away a bit to look in her eyes. She held his gaze and gave a small nod to confirm her acquiescence.
He nodded in return, then brushed his fingers over her cheek and without another word, walked away, daring her to follow him. The ball was in her court.
She was stalk-still a moment before desire and intrigue propelled her forward and she practically ran to catch up to him.
They walked side by side through the hotel lobby, not touching, not speaking, each of them afraid the spell would be broken if even a word was uttered. She watched the lights of the elevator 5, 4, 3, 2, as it made its way down to the ground floor slowly, agonizingly slowly.
Finally the doors opened and admitted them entrance and they stepped in, shoulder to shoulder. Like a shot she was on him as the doors closed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his head down to hers to join their lips in a heated kiss, which he returned with fervor. Lips, tongues and teeth sliding against each other in a seductive duel.
Her back landed against the mirrored wall with a soft thud, and through their haze they barely heard the ding of the elevator signaling their arrival to his floor. They pulled apart like lightning and he took her hand to lead her to his room, walking briskly down the hallway.
He pressed into her, his front to her back as she inserted the key into the lock and she could feel him shudder as the door clicked open.
He pushed them inside and the moment the door closed he backed her up against it, hot breath on her neck and hands that seemed to be everywhere.
"I just want you to know," he said between nips to her skin, "I don't ever do this sort of thing." He moaned as she unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants with a speed and dexterity he didn't think possible.
She stopped her movements to look him in the eye.
"Me either. One night stands aren't usually my forte, but God I'm attracted to you."
Lips colliding, she had his pants and boxers around his ankles in seconds and he stepped out of them, still clad in his dress shirt which was now tented with his growing erection. In turn, he grabbed the sides of her shirt and pulled hard enough to pop the buttons off and she moaned into his mouth as his hands covered her breasts.
She moved away and took a moment to rid herself of her shirt, skirt and panties then pushed him toward the small ensuite bathroom where she hopped on the counter and pulled him between her parted thighs. She wrapped her stocking-clad legs around his waist but when she attempted to remove her black stiletto pumps, he stopped her.
"Leave them on," he pleaded, so she did.
One hand on the mirror behind her and the other at the small of her back, he shifted her to the edge of the counter and she wriggled until he was lined up at her entrance. Foreplay was unnecessary; if he wasn't inside her soon she would scream.
He pushed inside and they both took a moment to adjust before he began moving in earnest. She was perched on her hands and used them to counter his thrusts, her head hitting the mirror in time with each one.
"You feel good," he whispered.
"So do you," was her husky reply.
He changed the angle and quickened the pace until they were both moaning, and she could feel the first stirrings of orgasm coming alive within her.
"I'm close," she whimpered.
He took that as an opportunity touch her center, and he immediately felt the hard clench of her inner muscles as she started to come.
"Ohhhhh God," she groaned, the spasms seemingly unending.
Feeling her come apart all around him triggered his own release and he pulled her to him as he collapsed against her, both panting.
When they caught their breath, he lifted her gently from the counter and she followed him into the bedroom, bed still made from earlier in the day. He turned down the sheets and then turned to look at her, still undressed from their coupling and unabashedly sexy.
"I hope you'll stay," he said sincerely, and she found she truly wanted to.
She nodded and climbed under the covers beside him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her from behind as they both fell blissfully to sleep.
*******
The bed was unfamiliar but the soft breathing behind her soothed Hillary's soul, as it had for decades.
She felt Bill beginning to stir and rolled over to trace his face with her fingertips. Paying special attention to his lips, she smoothed her thumb over them and when that didn't illicit a response, she kissed him softly on the mouth. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled, bringing his hand around to tuck her blonde hair behind her ear.
"Sleep well, Honey?" She asked with a hint of mischief in her tone.
"You know I did," he chuckled.
She kissed him again and moved her lips to his ear.
"You were amazing last night Jeff," she whispered.
He laughed outright. "I'm so glad I met you Diane."
They lay quiet a minute, and then:
"Oh and Hilly, don't you dare get rid of that wig!"
Her squeal of laughter could be heard as he pulled the covers up over their heads and began to ravish her anew.