The Deal ~

Chapter One ~

For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul... ~ Judy Garland

~*~ 

CHAPTER ONE

"So, we have a deal. Sex, devoid of any emotion or connection, other than pure, raw pleasure." He held his hand out to me, and I met my palm to his, to shake on it.

"Yep. That's the deal."

I met Adam last month on a business flight from LAX to Toronto; he, too, was traveling on business, and was seated beside me in first class. My initial impression of Adam, was that he was extremely good-looking—obvious to all upon seeing him, I was sure: classic Hollywood looks, dark hair, tanned skin, pale blue-green eyes, softly chiseled bone structure, with a bodybuilder's physique—and very well put together, in his custom fitted, steely blue designer suit. I'd assumed he was married—with kids, a house in the suburbs, and probably a dog or two.

Wow. Was I wrong. Not only was Adam not married, not saddled with kids and a suburban lifestyle, he'd never even came close to popping the question to a woman—other than the high school girlfriend that he'd ditched in law school. And his profession, as the top divorce attorney in Beverley Hills and the entire LA County alike, had done nothing to sell him on the institution of marriage, or relationships in general.

I, myself, had just ended a somewhat long relationship; that I wouldn't say was serious, at least not as it should have been for living together for six months. This was just another in a series of failed relationships for me—further disheartening me of the male gender as a whole and their lack of evolvement when it came to a successful business woman, and convincing me that I was meant to live alone, without a traditional partner to share my life with.

Adam and I ended up sharing the night together and experiencing, what I would say was, the best sex of my life.

It wasn't until a week later that I heard from Adam again. I avoided his first two calls—unsure how he'd even found me or obtained my number. But when I opened the package he'd sent over, and saw a single pair of handcuffs, I must say, I was enticed; at least enough to return his call and see what he had in mind.

As if the handcuffs hadn't alluded to that.

He had a suite at the Sheraton Airport Hotel, in preparation for an early morning flight out the next day, and would be out of town for the following two weeks. He suggested I come stay the night with him. After the night I'd spent with Adam in Toronto—a night of ecstasy incomparable to any other in my life: a night that entered my thoughts day and night, at very inappropriate moments—I wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to experience that again.

Adam had a limo to me in twenty minutes—to my surprise, with him in it, to get the pleasure started.

I'd thought of him even more on his two weeks away, and the things that we'd done—moreover, the things I'd let him do to me, that I would never have allowed in the past with any other man.

I'd never met a man with as much stamina; it didn't seem possible that he could physically be ready for another go around so quickly, and with just as much—if not more—arousing pleasure. But I wasn't complaining; truly, it was a gift.

Though I'd also never been more sore in my life, and vowed to spend more time at the gym.

Oh, I should probably mention the act that solidified my decision to stay with Adam that first night—a perfectly random stranger that compelled a trust in him that I couldn't explain nor deny—his audacity, and his wickedly skilled fingers reaching to my inner thigh on a slow glide up under my skirt, with an air cabin full of awake bodies and an overly conscientious, frequently passing by flight attendant. When his fingers found what they'd sought, his eyes flicked to mine, finding more than he'd expected. No panties!