I tried to forget him. Each morning, I’d tell myself it was a one night stand and nothing else. He was too old, too unsuitable, and besides, he lived on the other side of the country. It wasn’t as if we would ever have any kind of relationship. It had been sex. Incredible sex, but still, just sex. Nothing more. We’d used each other’s bodies, had an earth-shattering time and now it was over. The end. Finito.
I made myself work late, only so I’d have something other than Scott to focus on. My parents were planning a vow renewal for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary and I poured all my spare time into helping with the preparations. My days were filled. But my nights weren’t. Before I went to bed, I would watch myself brush my teeth in the mirror, telling myself that I was categorically banned from thinking about him. It didn’t help. Every night, my hand moved between my legs. Every time I came, I gasped his name.
Then, I got a text. I was in a meeting at work when my cell phone buzzed quietly. I stole a glance at it under the table.
I’m in the city tomorrow. Call me. Scott.
I blanched. My mouth felt dry. I gulped down a glass of water. My boss eyed me.
“You okay, Ally?”
I swallowed. “Yes! Fine!”
He raised an eyebrow and continued talking about KPI’s not being a box-ticking exercise. I crossed my legs. As soon as the meeting was over, I hurried back to my desk. Should I call him? How could I? What would I say? I put my phone deep into my purse and didn’t let myself touch it all day. He called me four times. I didn’t pick up.
What did he want? Sex? What else? And I wanted it too, didn’t I? On his fourth attempt to call, he’d left a voicemail. I told myself to delete it but when the cold night set in and I was alone in my apartment, I found myself playing it over and over.
If you’re not up for it, let me know. Or else, I’ll presume you’re just waiting for me to find you.
The words themselves were mild enough but the voice in which he’d said them was anything but. It sounded like sex. Like languorous, taunting sex. I didn’t call him back. For a few minutes, I considered it. I could have told him I didn’t want him. I could have made up excuses, lies. My finger hovered over the green call button. In the end, I threw my cell phone onto the couch and went to bed.
***
I awoke late the next morning, having had a restless night and rushed through my morning ritual as if on fast-forward. Shower, teeth, clothes, bag, fruit to eat on the way. I made it onto the train and the doors swooshed shut behind me, almost trapping my coat. Self-consciously, I tamed my long, dark hair with my fingers, before securing it into a no-nonsense ponytail. The train moved fast, carriages lurching, buildings rushing by.
I got to work with a few minutes to spare before the weekly staff meeting (which was known around the office as ‘the weekly waste of time’). The elevator area looked crowded so I ran up the stairs to divest of my coat and bag before sauntering into the meeting room as though I’d been around for hours.
“Morning everyone.”
There were a few muted responses. I sat down and helped myself to black coffee. The meeting was as boring and as pointless as usual, with everyone too afraid to admit if they were behind with their schedules, and plenty of snide remarks, inside jokes and barely-concealed gossiping. The most pressing issue seemed to be that Sarah Peck had been promised a nameplate for her office door and it hadn’t arrived.
With the meeting over, my twenty-odd co-workers scattered to different areas of the building. I had a report to write, a couple of phone calls to make and a mountain of filing to do which I planned to offload onto one of the many interns. At any one time, there were about ten interns in the building and as far as any of us knew, they spent their time on the top floor, using the free WiFi and hiding from any kind of responsibility.
I rang up to the top floor. No one picked up. I went to glean information on the interns’ whereabouts from my colleagues. They were clueless and uninterested. I headed for the elevator. The morning rush was over and it was thankfully empty.
I pushed the button for the top floor and the doors began to close but then they opened again. I glanced up from the letter I was proofreading and my mouth dropped open. Scott Banks stepped into the elevator. He smiled at me.
“Hi, Ally.”
The elevator door slid shut behind him, shutting us off from the world. I stared. He was wearing a suit jacket over a dark t-shirt and jeans. Somehow, he managed to look smart.
“What are you doing here?” I asked weakly.
“Well. You never replied to my messages. I had to see if you were alive.”
“Alive?”
My voice sounded strange.
“Yep.” Scott turned to me, his expression unreadable. “I mean, I can’t imagine a decent reason for you ignoring me, other than your untimely demise.”
I stared at him open-mouthed. He pushed the button for the top floor.
“I’m fine,” I said cautiously.
“Yes. I can see that.”
The elevator began to move.
“What do you want?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
He smiled. His eyes creased at the corners.
“Well, originally, I wanted to arrange some kind of – get-together. But right now, I just wanted to ask why you’ve been, well - disregarding me.”
“I’ve been – busy.” I said lamely.
“Too busy to send a message?” He shook his head. “I think I need to teach you some manners.”
I pressed my legs together hard. He stepped closer to me. I felt the world drop out of my stomach.
“You remember your safe word, don’t you?”
I swallowed hard, my mouth dry.
“Scott – for god’s sake!”
“It was surrender,” he said, ignoring me. “Now, bend over.”
The elevator seemed small. I felt trapped, almost overpowered, even though he wasn’t touching me.
“Scott, it’s fucking ten in the morning! Anyone could come in!”
“Then we’d better be quick. And watch your mouth, princess.”
I squared my small shoulders, wishing I hadn’t worn a sleeveless blouse.
“You can’t just – come in here, start telling me what to do! It was a one time thing!”
“But you can’t stop thinking about it, can you?” he asked. “I bet you’ve thought of me every night.”
The elevator reached the top floor and the doors pinged opened. Two interns were wrestling on a desk. They froze, guiltily. Scott ignored them. He punched the button for the ground floor.
“Turn around, Ally.”
I didn’t move. The doors slid shut and the elevator began its descent. He grasped my arm, pulling me towards him.
“For god’s sake, Scott!”
“You know how to stop me,” he breathed, pushing on the small of my back. “But you don’t really want to, do you?”
He lifted my skirt up, exposing my panties.
“I think five for every missed call,” he mused. “That’s what – twenty? An even number.”
His palm cracked down against my ass before I could protest. The first slap didn’t sting much but as he got into it, each stroke felt more painful. His hand moved fast. Once he’d delivered twenty blows, he cupped my ass, squeezing it so the heat radiated through my body. I couldn’t help moaning.
“I know you, Ally.” His mouth brushed my ear. I could smell mint, soap and coffee. It was like the most addictive drug in the world. “I know every inch of you. I’m coming by your place this evening. I want you to open the door wearing the clothes in your bag. No underwear.”
He pulled my skirt back over my ass just as the elevator doors slid open. Then he was gone.
***
I spent the day in a state of constant arousal. My ass smarted every time I sat down. I worked through lunch, trying to distract myself from what had happened. Why hadn’t I stopped him? What was it about him? Thinking about it without him in the equation, made the whole thing seem absurd. I’d just let a man spank me in an elevator. Ridiculous. But that man was Scott. All of a sudden, it wasn’t ridiculous. It was hot. It was deliciously forbidden. It made my snatch wet and my stomach ache with need.
As I was on the train, heading home, he sent me a text.
I’ll be there at nine.
My insides clenched. The clothes he’d mentioned were still in my bag. I hadn’t dared look at them. How had he even got them in there? The bizarreness of the whole situation, only added to the anticipation. He was chasing me and I wasn’t running. Maybe half-heartedly, but not really. It was so wrong. What would my father think?
As soon as I got through my apartment door, I pulled the plastic bag out of my purse and emptied it onto the floor. T-shirt. Shorts. Both were new, tags attached. I held them up uncertainly. They looked small, even for my slender body. What was his game? Maybe I shouldn’t open the door. Maybe I should go out, so I couldn’t open the door. Yes, I wanted him but it wasn’t sensible. You can’t just give into your desires, can you?
I went into the kitchen, ate some fruit. I turned on the news. The apartment looked too tidy. I sat on the arm of the couch, eating a pomegranate and watching the Pope meet a bunch of poor kids. My grandmother once told me that one seed in each pomegranate is from heaven. I thought about this as I sat there in my cosy, safe apartment. Scott couldn’t come over. He’d be out of place. Maybe he was bluffing. The clock read five to eight. One hour five minutes.
I considered calling a friend, going out for drinks. It was a Saturday, after all. It would be easy. So easy. An escape. Scott wasn’t meant to come back. He was meant to be in LA, a distant memory. I didn’t want to think about how I’d come with his cock in my ass. I was a good girl! I’d already done my allotted amount of rebelling in my teenage years and even then, none of it had involved actual sex. Maybe porn, but not sex, and definitely not the kind of sex I’d had with Scott goddamn Banks.
I didn’t call anyone. I didn’t go out. I couldn’t sit still.
