Naughty (15 page)

Tyler chuckled, as if seeing clearly through Naomi’s facade. She should have known that Naomi had an ulterior motive. “Sure, Naomi, keeping my nephew won’t be a problem.” Tyler started to turn back toward the drafting table, but didn’t. “So where are you guys going?”

“Out to dinner,” Naomi simply said.

“Is this a special occasion?” Tyler asked, pressing for more details, trying to use the opportunity to strike up a real conversation.

Now that she had gotten what she came for, Naomi didn’t want to stand there and entertain another question, so she was brief. “No special occasion, just going out to dinner.” Then, switching the subject, she said, “Noah usually has dinner around sixthirty. There’s ravioli and broccoli in the refrigerator. He can have ice cream for dessert, but he has to be in bed no later than eight-thirty.” Not giving Tyler a chance to ask another question, she said, “Thanks. I have to get dressed now,” and walked out.

That wasn’t too bad,
Naomi thought, once back in her room. Tyler seemed agreeable enough, but Naomi still wanted her out in thirty days. She walked over to the closet to pick out an outfit. It had been awhile since she and Jacob had gone out on the town and she wanted to look irresistible. Thumbing through the rack of dresses, she finally decided on a magenta jersey wrap dress, a pair of matching sling backs, and a silver chain necklace.

Naomi went into the bathroom, turned on the water in the
Jacuzzi tub, and poured in an aromatic bath salt. Once the tub was brimming with foaming bubbles, she slipped in, leaned her head back on the headrest, and closed her eyes. As the warm water caressed her body, her mind began to drift.
Maybe tonight Jacob will put work aside for once and focus on us
. Naomi smiled at the possibility. But her smile didn’t last long; it began to dissipate as quickly as the delicate bubbles, as her mind drifted back to reality.
Jacob’s probably going to have a quick dinner with me, rush back to the office, and work on some project that can’t possibly wait until tomorrow
. Her body felt heavy with despair as she stepped out of the tub. Naomi sighed and willed herself to dress.

The traffic on the LIE was light, and within thirty-five minutes, she was pulling into the circular driveway in front of the Sofitel. The valet immediately appeared at the driver’s side door. “Good evening, miss. Are you checking in with us this evening?” he asked as she stepped out of the car.

“No, I’m just here for dinner,” Naomi said, looking up at the white, asymmetrical structure. She marveled at the glass-infused architecture; it resembled a museum housing modern art instead of a hotel housing weary travelers.

She walked through the glass doors into the lobby. The black marble flooring had recessed lighting that changed from lime, to teal, to lavender. Naomi walked past the cozy sofas into the bar area, which was to the right of the lobby. She looked around for Jacob, but didn’t see him among the men smoking cigars and drinking cognac and martinis at the bar.

“Excuse me.” Naomi caught the attention of the waitress. “Where’s the restaurant?”

“Café Des Architectes is to the left of the entrance,” she said, pointing toward the front of the hotel.

How apropos; they probably named the restaurant to pay homage to the architects that designed the hotel,
Naomi thought.

“Do you have a reservation for dinner?” asked the maître d’, once she stepped inside of the uniquely designed restaurant.
The decor was a whimsical color combination of red, white, and black, with touches of silver.

“Yes. I’m meeting my husband. The name is Reed, party of two,” she said, looking over the maître d’s shoulder into the dining room.

He scanned his clipboard. “I’m sorry. I don’t have a reservation for Reed. Could it be under another name?”

“No.”
What the hell is going on? Don’t tell me Jacob forgot to make the reservation,
Naomi fumed silently.

“Would you care to put your name on the wait list?” he asked, running his finger down several names. “I have an eight-thirty reservation.”

“No, thank you.” She smiled faintly, feeling totally embarrassed. Naomi slunk back to the lobby and wearily sat on the sofa. She had half a mind to go over to Jacob’s office and rip him a new opening.

How dare he have me come all the way into the city and not have the decency to show up
? She looked at her watch; it was six-fifty. “I’ll give him until seven, and then I’m out of here.”

Seven o’clock came and went, and she was still sitting on the sofa, feeling too dejected to move. She heard a faint ringing, but it stopped, only to start again. Naomi opened her purse, realizing that the source of the ringing was her cell phone.
It’s probably Jacob calling after the fact, to say he’s running late,
she thought. But when she looked at the caller ID, she didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

“Naomi,” said a husky male voice.

She hesitated a moment, trying to recognize the caller. “Yes? Who is this?”

“It’s me.”

“Jacob?” she asked, surprised at his tone. “Is that you?”

“Yes, don’t you recognize my voice?” he asked in a hushed tone.

“Why are you whispering?” She was annoyed. “And where
are you? I’ve been sitting in this lobby for over thirty minutes and I’m not waiting another second longer. You can have dinner by your
damn
self. I’m going home.” Naomi’s voice raised a few decibels. Not wanting to cause a scene, she immediately lowered her tone.

“Whoa, whoa. Calm down, Naomi, I’m—”

She cut him off. “I know, you’re still at work. Yeah, Jacob, I know the routine by now. Good-bye.” Naomi pulled the phone away from her ear, searching for the end button, but she could hear him yelling through the mini earpiece.

“Naomi, Naomi, don’t hang up!”
he shouted.

“What is it, Jacob?” she asked, putting the phone back to her ear.

“I’m not in the office; I’m—”

“Then where the hell are you?” she asked in a tight voice.

“If you stop cutting me off, I’ll tell you.”

She held the phone. “I’m listening.”

“I’m at the hotel.”

Naomi looked around the lobby. “Don’t play with me, Jacob. You’re not at the hotel. I’ve been here since six-thirty and if you were here, I would have seen you by now. Jacob, you’re such a liar. You lure me out of the house with a false promise of a romantic evening; now you’re—”

This time he cut her off. “Naomi, please be quiet and listen closely.”

She didn’t say one word. Because whatever he had to say, she wasn’t interested in hearing. She held the phone as he continued to talk.

“Take the elevator to the sixth floor and come to six-ten. I’ve booked a suite for us.”

Naomi was shocked and nearly dropped the phone. She couldn’t believe her ears. Jacob had taken the initiative to seduce his wife.

“Hello, are you still there?”

“I’m here,” she finally said, finding her voice.

“Well, come upstairs, so I can make good on my promise,” he said with a smile in his voice.

“I’m on my way,” she answered with renewed hope, and bounced off the sofa and headed to the bank of elevators.

In the elevator, Naomi’s mind was racing faster than Flo Jo in the hundred-meter dash. She was still having a hard time believing that Jacob had finally taken the initiative to resurrect their love life without her prodding him. She was giddy with excitement. The elevator stopped on six and she stepped out. The corridor was just as spectacular as the lobby, with whimsical colored carpeting in bright geometric shapes, and ornate prints hung on mustard-colored walls. Naomi followed the arrow pointing the way to room six-ten. When she reached the room, the door was ajar.

“Hello? Jacob?” She gently pushed the door farther open.

“Follow the trail,” was all he said.

Naomi stepped into the suite and shut the door. The room was aglow with flickering candlelight, with Norah Jones singing softly in the background. She followed the trail of white tulip petals down a brief marble hallway leading into the bedroom. Unlike most boutique hotels, this bedroom was huge. A king-sized bed with a stark white down comforter didn’t begin to fill up the space. There was a chaise lounge in one corner and a teak leather-top vanity in the other. The room was also bathed in candlelight. Naomi looked around but didn’t see Jacob.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he said, approaching her from behind. He slipped his arms around her waist. “I keep my promises,” he whispered in her ear, and then began kissing the back of her neck. He stepped in closer and Naomi could feel his naked erection on her backside.

Naomi was flabbergasted. Her workaholic husband had turned into Don Juan.

As he began grinding against her rear, she could feel herself
getting moist. In one smooth motion, Jacob reached underneath her dress, removed her panties, and began to tease her clitoris. “Oh, Jacob,” she moaned. “Don’t stop.”

“Take your dress off,” he whispered.

Naomi fumbled with the ties of the dress as Jacob brought her close to a digital orgasm. “Yes, that’s it!” she moaned as he hit her G-spot.

“I want to fuck you by the window,” he whispered.

Her mind was reeling, “What?”

Standing there in only her bra, he walked her over toward the floor-to-ceiling window, unhooked her bra from the back, and began massaging her nipples. He then bent Naomi over the vanity, spread her cheeks apart, and inserted his rock-hard penis.

“Yes, yes, baby,” she cried out, on the brink of orgasm.

“Mir . . . Naomi, you feel so good,” he moaned in a low, nearly inaudible voice, almost calling his wife Mira.

“What?” She couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying. And she didn’t care, because he was speaking volumes with each deep thrust.

He made love to Naomi in front of the floor-to-ceiling window like a man possessed. He usually treated her with kid gloves, but not tonight. And she wasn’t complaining. It had been a long time since she’d had multiple orgasms. Maybe he was guilt-ridden about working long hours and moving his sister in with them without consulting her. Guilt-ridden or not, he was inspired. She didn’t care to know who or what was the reason behind his inspiration as long as it signaled the end of their sexual drought.

“
DO YOU
need for me to bring anything?” Kennedy asked. She was having dinner at Nigel’s apartment, and didn’t know what to bring. Usually men brought women flowers or candy, but she didn’t know what a woman brought to a man’s apartment for the first time.

“Yeah,” Nigel said, chuckling, “you can bring something for me.”

“Sure, what do you need?”

“You,” he said, in a seriously seductive voice.

Nigel and Kennedy had been dating for two weeks, six days, and eighteen hours, but who was counting? “In that case, I’d better get a move on. See you in a bit,” she said, smiling. It had been years since a man had been head over heels for Kennedy, and she was elated. The thought of having a fifty/fifty relationship, not seventy/thirty, with her on the losing end of the percentage, made her happy.

“Don’t worry about a parking space. I know how crazy parking can be in this neighborhood. I’ll have the building attendant
park your car.” Not only was Nigel handsome, he was also extremely accommodating and thoughtful.

“Okay.” She hung up the phone and raced to the bathroom to shower. Warm water pulsated from the dual showerheads onto her body, instantly relaxing her muscles. Standing underneath the pulsating spray, she was transported back to the evening of their first date.

Usually reserved for momentous occasions, Tru was one of New York’s premier five-star restaurants. That’s why Kennedy was taken aback when Nigel said he had made an eight o’clock reservation for their first date. The instant they walked through the black, cloaklike drapes into the restaurant, the outside world seemed to vanish like a magician’s sleight of hand trick. The focal point of the bar area, an exquisite cobalt sculpture of a woman’s torso, was breathtaking. They were immediately whisked away to the dining room, where original pieces of artwork adorned stark white walls. A velvet cube was placed next to Kennedy’s chair the moment she sat down. Initially she thought it was a footstool, but surmised that it was too tall to fit comfortably underneath the table to rest her feet on. Then one of the many well-versed waiters said, “For your purse, madame.”

Kennedy was impressed. She had dined throughout the world, but never had she been offered a stool for her purse. And that was just the beginning. The wait staff was synchronized in their service. When one disappeared into the kitchen, another would appear at their table with an edible masterpiece. The French-influenced haute cuisine was presented with dramatic fanfare, from the caviar staircase tier to the tuna, salmon, and yellowtail tartars served on an oblong mirror. Over entrées of black bass with cannellini beans and milk-fed veal with a porcini mushroom sauce, Kennedy learned that Nigel was the premier chemist at FACEZ, the cosmetics conglomerate. The entire dining experience was long and drawn out, which was perfect for the dreaded “getting to know you” phase of their date. Over dessert, Nigel
gave her the abridged version of how he had been jilted by his bride-to-be three days before their wedding.

“And you know what the funny thing is?” he asked rhetorically. “I didn’t even see it coming,” he said, stirring raw sugar into his cappuccino with a faraway look in his eyes.

Kennedy saw the sad expression on his face and wanted to kiss his pain away, but instead asked, “What was her excuse for calling off the wedding?”

“She said that she felt like a fraud marrying me and couldn’t go through with the wedding.”

“A fraud?” Kennedy crinkled her nose. “What did she mean by that?”

“It’s a long story, and I don’t want to bore you with all the details,” he said, without any emotion.

Kennedy couldn’t believe how matter-of-fact his voice was, like being jilted was no big deal. If she had been dumped days before her wedding, she would probably still be devastated. “You sound so calm and collected about the entire ordeal.”