There never was a Round 3. Sometime while I was lying there, feeling boneless, weightless, and basking in the afterglow of those mind-blowing orgasms, I fell asleep. I remember closing my eyes for a just a second. I guess that had been enough.
I woke up with a start, momentarily forgetting where I was. It was dark in the room. The only light came from the soft glow of the TV on the dresser. I rolled onto my side, and a blanket moved with me.
Aw, he covered me up. How sweet was that?
I found Billy sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, putting his shoes on. He heard me move and turned to me.
"Hey," he said, softly.
"Hey," I said. "I'm really sorry I fell asleep."
"Don't be," he smiled. "Means I did my job right."
I smiled back, sitting up. I kept myself covered with the blanket. I don't know why. He had already seen the show.
Billy's smiled faded a bit. "I don't want to be that guy, but I have to go to work," he said.
"Oh, okay," I said. I had no reason not to believe him.
"I'll let you get dressed," he said, standing up. He put his thumb on my chin and raised my face to his. He kissed me softly, and I melted against his lips. He pulled away, green eyes looking through me. "Thank you for an amazing afternoon."
"The pleasure was mine," I said.
He gave me a wink and I nearly fell out. "I'll be out there," he said, and left the room, closing the door behind him.
I got dressed and we left together. He walked me downstairs, and we said our goodbyes. We texted pretty much everyday for the rest of the week. Flirty messages heavy with sexual innuendo. We never actually talked. We had two different schedules, so I didn't take it personally. When you work graveyard shift you have to sleep while everyone else is awake.
Friday night came along, and my sister was opening her new art gallery. It had been a long day on top of a long week, and I really, really didn't want to go. All I wanted to do was Netflix and chill. But I had promised. I wanted to be there to support her, too.
I arrived fashionably late, mostly because I debated on what to wear. I knew my sister would expect me to wear a skirt or dress. The problem was I had been wearing a dress for 12 hours and I wanted to be comfortable. Honestly, it didn't matter what I wore anyways. Ashley would have something to say regardless.
I walked in and spotted her right away, chatting it up with a few people. She was the definition of fashionably chic, dressed to the nines and a face beat for the gods. I looked down at my jeans and suddenly felt very underdressed. Fuck. I was never going to hear the end of this...
I looked back up and caught her eye at the same time. I gave her a small wave. She finished up her conversation and made her way to where I was, acknowledging people here and there. I smiled as she came to a stop in front of me, her 5'10" frame towering over me.
"The place looks really good, Ashley. Pretty big crowd, too," I said.
"Thank you," she smiled, looking around at her work. "I think people are having fun."
"Definitely," I agreed, looking around with her.
"So?" she asked.
I looked back at her, startled. "So," I said.
She motioned to my jeans with her chocolate brown eyes.
I fucking knew it. "Don't start with me, Ashley," I warned her. "It's been a long fucking day."
"I wouldn't have to Jade if you didn't act so brand new all the time," she said.
I took a deep breath. "I asked you what the dress code was, and you said casual." I glanced around again. "Plus, there's like 40 hipsters in here wearing jeans. Did you give them shit, too?"
"Nobody cares about what they're wearing. You, on the other hand, are my sister and therefore a representation of me."
I laughed at how ridiculous she was acting. "Ashley, nobody cares about what I'm wearing either. This is your night. So go mingle with your guests and stop being a cunt." I smiled sweetly. "K?"
She sighed loudly. "Fine. I'll harass you again in a little bit." She flashed me a smile. "Have fun!"
"You, too," I said, my smile switching to genuine.
She turned to leave, and I said, "Whore."
"Bitch," she said over her shoulder.
A waiter walked by with glasses of champagne, and I snatched one off the tray before he passed. I took a big swig and went for a walk through the gallery. I wandered around aimlessly, stopping every so often to admire the works of the local artists Ashley had commissioned for the opening. That had always been Ashley's M.O., helping the undiscovered artists make it big.
I was studying a particular painting when a familiar and very distinctive voice floated into my ears. It was muffled by the hum of the crowd talking at various levels around me. Still, I heard it, and my ears perked up like a predator who just heard its prey move nearby. I searched the gallery and accompanying sea of faces for the owner of that voice.
My heart began to beat faster. Could it really be him? Maybe I was hearing things. How is it possible that we keep running into each other? I'd never seen him before a month ago and now we keep randomly showing up at the same places. Was he stalking me?
I immediately laughed that off. Who the fuck was I kidding? A dude like Billy Rawn didn't need to stalk anyone. He just walks down the street and pussy falls into his lap.
Maybe it really was fate...
Deep and full of bass, his voice made its way to my ears again, sending every hair on the back of my neck upright. His sly laugh followed, dripping with sex, and laced with candy. The inexorable shiver that laugh gave me danced down my spine. I knew then that I wasn't hearing things.
I continued looking and finally spotted him across the gallery, not that far away. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of him. God, he was so beautiful. He was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt that fit like a second skin, accentuating his muscular upper body in all the right places. The shirt was tucked into a pair of black slacks held up by a black belt. Black on black on black...my kryptonite.
He was standing a few feet from a man and woman, who appeared to be a couple from how close they were standing to each other. The woman talked and Billy listened intently, giving her his full attention. It wasn't like he was smitten or anything, it was just who he was. The type of person that would act the same way no matter who he was talking to. His penetrating green eyes staring deep into your soul, making you feel as if you were the most important person in the world at that moment.
Okay, maybe I was personalizing that last part, but you catch my drift.
It didn't seem like he had a date. Should I go say hi? I struggled internally with whether I should. What if he thought I was the stalker? No, I had a more than legit reason to be here. Just do it, one part of my brain told the other. I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and used the reflection on the screen to check my makeup and hair. All good.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket and started forward. I got a few steps before another player entered the scene, stopping me dead in my tracks. A woman, beautiful, with gorgeous black hair that flowed down her back. She wore the quintessential little black dress that hugged every curve perfectly and displayed her ample cleavage and long legs. Basically, she was a female version of Billy.
The type of woman I imagined he would be with.
I was back to feeling underdressed with a side of frumpy. Fuck, the one time I didn't wear a fucking dress or skirt.
Billy saw her approaching and gave her a smoldering smile. She held a glass of champagne in each hand, extending her right arm to give him one as she reached his side. I watched his luscious lips say "thank you" as he took the glass from her. She leaned in to give him a kiss on each cheek then planted a kiss on his mouth. It looked chaste from the outside but lasted a few seconds too long to be a friend kiss.
