Sharky and I are back for our third chapter of our guilty pleasure. Hehehe . . .

Aina, I'm VERY sorry for saying that Jesse and Suze had only done it twice.

(Aina didn't originally say that, you see. I did a little . . . editing.)

Love Lolly.

- 8 -

I stammered, 'It- I- It was in the moment . . .I was caught up in the moment.' Yeah, that's all it was.

I glared down at her, pushing myself deeper against her. A strangled moan half-escaped her throat, and she turned her head away furiously.

Feel it . . .

I couldn't say anything. I was momentarily lost . . .in places I didn't know.

RESIST HIM. Push him away.

Something deep and guttural developed in the back of my throat, and I let out the more pleasured of growls. She couldn't deny THIS.

I wanted him to stop. But I didn't know how to make him stop. I was too far gone.

It was late, now. I knew that. We'd fallen asleep before. Well, at least I had. The only evidence I knew she hadn't been awake the whole time, was that she was still here. I man, she would have snuck out if she knew that I was out.

When I say we feel asleep, that was NOT to say that things were uneventful.

Ha.

Hardly.

There was no light in my room, now. Suze was still warm in my arms. Still shivering. God, would she STOP that already?

This had to end. Right now. Yet . . .I had never felt as good as I did with him in a long time . . . What was I saying? I'm married for God's sake! Stop entertaining these thoughts!

And then, she said she had to leave. I didn't stop her. I watched her as she crawled, naked, from my bed, disappearing below my line of vision for her clothes, and re-emerging, half-dressed. I would have kept her here, if I hadn't have known just one thing.

. . . That she'd be back.

She'd tasted the fruit now. She'd come back for more. I knew it, and she knew it.

I was surprised he didn't stop me. But I didn't stop to think why. I just grabbed my clothes and put them on, feeling his eyes on me. I wonder if he knew that this was the last time I'll ever see him. Because I had no intention in even staying in NY after this.

No way.

I have to go back.

I owe that much to Jesse.

That's what I tell myself anyway.

- 8 -

I reached my hotel room, physically and mentally exhausted. Not because of what happened earlier with Paul, I mean, I'm sure it was not, I was tired because I had to walk a few blocks from his place before finally got a cab.

I tossed my purse on the table, but it slid and drop off. I watched it lie on the floor, too tired to pick it up. What time was it? It must have been at least 2 am.

Staggering to the bedroom, I took off my clothes again, feeling ashamed all of a sudden but not acknowledging it.

I laid on the bed, pulled the quilt up to my chin and tried to sleep.

. . . Whoa.

About thirty minutes after she was gone . . . I realized what I had just done.

And WHO.

And God, it felt good.

All of a sudden, the pride and the satisfaction rushed in on me. Like an upsurge. A drug. A high. I'd just done something I'd wanted to do for almost ten years.

Why the hell can't I sleep?

I sat up abruptly. There were distant sounds of a music somewhere, maybe from a room a few doors down, but that wasn't the reason why I was awake.

It was guilt. Oh, yeah, Suze. GUILT.

I felt great.

No, really. I felt . . . relaxed, I felt . . . actually HAPPY, I felt . . . really good. Really REALLY good.

I was still in my bed. I tossed my arms behind my head, grinning into darkness.

I could still smell her. Her scent, it was all over my sheets. It smelt good. It lingered, like a devilishly sinful taste of a forbidden memory.

Wonder how SHE felt at the moment. Something made me reckon that she wasn't feeling relaxed, or happy, or really good.

I bet she felt guilty, now.

Adulteress that she was.

The guilt was probably eating away at her, slowly, gnawing her morals, killing her silently, tearing strips from her.

I did that.

. . . It was her own fault.

No. No, it was de Silva's fault. It was his fault that his wife, obviously not satisfied with him, had gone hunting for a decent lay.

Not that she had . . . you know. But once we'd hit that stage, both of us knew there was no going back.

She wanted it as badly as I did.

I could smell traces of his cologne in my hair. Aaak. Tossing away the sheets, I got up and rushed to the bathroom.

Turning the shower knob to as hot as I could handle, I let the water ran over me. I didn't even care that I was still wearing my undergarments. All I wanted was to be clean. Clean from him and whatever else that reminded me of him.

If only I could clean my mind the way I easily cleaned my body.

About half an hour later, I turned off the shower and took off the rest of my clothes. Then wrapping myself with a towel, I walked over to the wardrobe and put on a pair of boxers and a large T-shirt.

Comfort clothes. Love it.

Attempt to sleep. Round two.

I closed my eyes, knowing perfectly well.

That was not the last I'd see of Susannah Simon. MY Suze. Not Jesse's Mrs de Silva. That had been MY Suze.

I fell asleep quickly, as images of staring down at her eyes clouded my consciousness.

Those green eyes . . .

. . . There's not gonna be any sleep for Suze de Silva tonight, that's for sure. Because all I could think about was what I had done and how it would kill me if Jesse knew. How it would kill him. All over again.

Why did I do it?

And I why did I still wanted it? It was wrong. So wrong.

I lay on the bed and watched the lights from the traffic reflected on the ceiling. Morning should come soon, and it will be a new day. I hope it will be better.

Better my ass.

If tomorrow I continued to feel like I did then, I might as well not leave that room to go to work. How could I concentrate on anything if all I felt was guilt?

Exhaustion fell over me yet I still couldn't sleep. My body was numb, but my mind was racing.

I hated what HE did to me. But at the same time what happened thrilled me, and the danger and the possibility of us getting caught fueled both of us even more.

I hated it. But at the same time I couldn't lie to myself - I wanted more.

And more and more and more and more and m -

- 8 -

My alarm sang out at seven that morning, and I rolled over, groaning. There was sun shining directly in my eyes.

Christ . . . remind me to not forget to close the blinds next time.

Why were they even open?

. . . Oh yeah. I'd opened them . . . after what had happened . . .

Hah. That.

With a dry smirk on my face, I sat up as thoughts, memories, sensations started making my fingertips pound in their reminiscent desire.

Her.

Wow, it seemed surreal now. I mean, had it happened? Was she really here with me, in my bed, five hours ago? After eight years of a seemingly unbearable absence, had Susannah Simon finally given me the thing that I'd always wanted, last night?

Well, in a sense. Long ago I had my fantasies about being her first one, but a certain cowboy beat me to that by proposing first.

Hah. Sorry, Rico. Even after you got hitched, your girl still wants me.

As I got ready - I was due down at the gym at eight - my mind was in a deluded blur of lustful thoughts. They tortured me with tantalizing seduction, making me feel hungry for her again.

I had no physical proof that I'd see her again. For all I knew, she could have caught a flight back to the arms of her perfect Prince Hector.

But something told me that she was still here. And that she still wanted things from me that she wasn't getting back home.

Penis, for a start, since we haven't established yet that de Silva has one.

I watched as the sun rose and the darkness in my room lessened. The shadows disappeared and the objects in the room slowly took shape.

I barely slept a wink the whole night. I kept waking up in fitful thoughts, afraid of the coming day and ashamed of the previous.

Sighing, I got up from the bed and shuffled my way to the bathroom. Whether I liked it or not, I had to go to the office since my boss is holding a meeting about our new client.

If only the client, Mr. Dunningham is as pleasant as my supervisor, who is the epitome of a successful working female. I mean, all he ever done was give both of us grief over the designs of the poster for his company. Why can't he hire his own damn designer then?

Thinking about his obnoxious behaviour was good though. It allowed me no space to think of the other obnoxious person I recently encountered.

Not just encountered, but actually had - okay, shut up.

I randomly picked out some clothes and went to the bathroom to take a nice hot shower. Hopefully, it could wake me up a little bit and I won't look like a half-dead zombie by the time I get to the office.

By eight thirty, I was sitting in the leg press at Zest, a gym that was a couple of blocks down from my apartment. I'd been on it for about fifteen minutes, so I moved over to the walking machines and set the speed to 9mph, and started running on it. It wasn't long before my forehead got slick with perspiration.

It felt great, running off all the excess energy that was still pumping through my system from the day before. The heat I was generating didn't hold a candle to the heat that had existed in my bedroom yesterday.

God . . . just thinking about her was a mistake. It made me want her, all over again. There and then.

Then again, that probably wouldn't have impressed her all that much since I was sweating profusely. So maybe after a shower, then hell yes, my wanting her there and then would certainly resume.

I zoned out completely as I set the speed higher, running and blanking out. I remembered the feel of her hands on my back. God, it had been euphoria. Hot, and strong, and desirous.

The passion had been so thick and potent that it almost had a choking quality. Like when Suze almost stopped breathing when we were starting. She'd been crying so hard that she couldn't breathe. The fear, I guess. Fear of letting herself experience something that her body badly needed.

Even though, you know, she was kind of breaking one of the ten commandments and all.

Not important.

Her hands, though, stuck with me. That, and her eyes. The whole time I'd been looking into them, they'd been so . . . terrified. As if I was going to hurt her.

It cut me, that look. I'd never hurt her.

Not intentionally, anyway. Or at least, I'd never hurt her more than I knew she could handle. Because I sure as hell wasn't gentle with her. I'm no pansy in bed.

Several women can vouch for that.

Hey green eyes. They were so deep. Like I was looking into a whole other world through them. They told me everything that I needed to know. I knew when to back off, and when I knew she couldn't stand something anymore. Because that was always my goal - push her as far as she'd go till she was desperate for me to stop.

It was then that I knew I'd reached her limit, where she felt the most pleasure.

Ha. I don't know how de Silva was with her - and I don't plan on knowing his style in the bedroom, thank you very much - but I'd bet he wasn't as in tune to her as I was. Sure, Jesse's a sensitive bastard. But he's a wuss.

I knew Suze. I knew what she wanted, how much she wanted, and when she REALLY wanted me to stop.

Which was never when she said.

Finally. After he finished his speech, Elsie managed to talk some sense into him and made him accept our proposal.

Houston, we have a deal.

Okay, that sounded corny.

Making my way to my temp office, I dumped all the posters and stuff on the table. It was almost lunchtime, but I didn't feel hungry.

I craved something. But not food.

Oh no.

I sat down on my seat and turned on the computer. The screen was black, then turned light blue as the login page emerged.

Blue, like his eyes. Piercing and soft at the same time.

Shaking my head, I punched in my password and waited for it to login into my account.

One of the office boy dropped something for me, a memo from my supervisor. As he turned, I noticed that he was too skinny. He need more muscles, so that his back would be more defined, like - CRAP.

After a couple of hours down there, I went and had a shower in the bathrooms there. Hot, steamy shower.

Heh. Not in reference to ANYTHING.

After I was free from sweat, I got changed into my work clothes - tie, suit, the whole deal - and by eleven, I was in my office taking phone calls from would-be clientele who are desperate need of my legal guidance.

Law is concrete, my friends. Law determines what can and cannot be done. Laws aren't God's ten commandments. Law is America's way of keeping people alive and well. I only obey the commandments that collide with law.

Everything else can get screwed.

Seventh commandment in particular.

I can't do this. Waiting around like . . . like..

Even as I was hearing a Mrs Olivia Martin-Price's voice over the phone, my mind wasn't on my job – proving her innocence in a stupid car accident.

It was on something else.

. . . Not now, Slater. Keep it in your pants, you dick.

Without thinking, I grabbed my purse and bolted out of the office. Elsie's secretary was asking me something, but I kept on walking.

I wasn't thinking, and I liked it that way. Because if I stopped to think about what I was about to do, I might as well just kill myself.

Treacherous behaviour. How wonderful.

What was the name of the company again? Damn, I shouldn't have tossed away his card when he offered it to me yesterday.

I sat in front of my laptop, my hands on the keys. But I couldn't type. Once again . . . . my mind was so far away.

I remembered something my friend told me once about the seventh commandment; Thou Shall Not Commit Adultery.

For accidentally omitting the word 'not' from this Commandment, a London publisher was imprisoned for two years.

. . . Ha.

Westgate? Westwood? Weston.

Weston and . . . and . . .

Bennett. Weston and Bennett Legal Advice.

Wow. Heavy stuff.

Adultery. Suze, my adulteress.

Oh, get a GRIP Slater. It was one time. Stop kidding yourself . . . you know she's not coming back. She's probably on the plane to Carmel as we speak.

I told the taxi driver the name of the company, and he nodded. Good.

It was a one time only thing. A chance meeting. A day and a night of passion.

But it was over. It was a mistake for her, remember?

She'll never forget it at least . . .

Her conscience wouldn't allow it.

Fifteen minutes later, the taxi stopped in front of a large glass building.

Huh. Glass. How fitting.

Suddenly I felt nervous. Why wasn't there any traffic today? I could have used more time sitting in the cab. Perhaps even changed my mind.

Too late now. I gave the driver the fare and got out. Walking into the building, I tried to look as if I belonged with the rest of the lawyers and interns.

I didn't.

Looking at the board besides the lift, I saw a name. The name that caused my heart to race and my face to burn. Ignoring the ache in . . . uh, certain areas of my body, I walked into the lift and pressed the button.

I was so involved in my staring at the computer screen - not even seeing it, as opposed to seeing someone that wasn't actually there, seeing her how I'd seen her the night before - that I didn't hear the phone ringing right beside me. The sound was too far away.

Slater, stop it. Stop obsessing over her. She's not yours. Just because you want her to be. She doesn't belong to you. She's not yours.

The receptionist pointed me to a room near the back of the office. Heart pounding like mad, I made my way there, half-running back to the lift.

I was making a mistake. A humongous mistake.

Yet I couldn't stop myself.

'Mr Slater, call on line one, it's George,' Katie, the receptionist, said to me in a perky voice.

George.

My client.

God help him.

I picked up the phone, greeted by the brusque tones of a very large, very powerless man.

'Paul Slater! Finally, I've gotten hold of you! I'd appreciate if I could come down this afternoon, and . . . you know . . . run over my case a little? Just some . . . er, untruths we want to get straight?' I groaned inwardly. 'Sure, Mr - '

Holy crap . . . what was sh –

'Actually,' I said quickly, 'I'm going to have to cancel that. Sorry. Gotta go - '

And I slammed down the phone, standing up immediately. Suze was standing there, looking at me with a lost expression on her face. 'Suze,' I said in a choked voice, one that was highly unusual for me.

She . . . she hadn't left. She was back.

Hah. I knew she would be.

I didn't even know what I was doing here. It was like I was on automatic pilot, just moving along without thinking. Looking for his firm, coming up here to his office when I was supposed to be on my way back to Carmel. I didn't know what I want. And when I looked at him, he seemed as shocked as I felt.

'Paul,' I said slowly.

He was wearing a dark suit, looking like every inch the lawyer he was and his hair was combed nicely. I felt like running my fingers through them and messing it up.

I just stood there like an idiot for a moment, before nodding at her. 'What do you want?' I asked her.

Good question. What did I want? I looked at him for a moment, before saying the first thing that came to mind, 'What happened . . . I wanted to make sure that it stays between us.'

I stared at her for a moment again. 'Of course,' I said. Then, I took a small step towards her, and slowly, I slid my hand down the side of her face. Her eyes closed. My fingers moved gently to her hair, twirling it around my fingers.

So soft . . .

I snapped my eyes open. No, I can't let it happen again. I looked at him as he traced his finger down my neck, and I realized that this wasn't the Paul I used to know.

That was a boy.

This was a man.

And I was scared of him, and what he was capable of.

'Okay. Good,' I forced myself to say, then stepped back from him.

Cold from the air-conditioned office rushed in, making me miss the heat from his body. But it didn't matter. Now I did what I came to do, and I shall leave.

No, no. She wasn't getting away that easily. That was NOT why she came. She came for one thing only. I moved up against her suddenly, holding her into me. In front of my colleagues. I didn't care. They could all get screwed, anyway. Which, you know, was what I was aiming at here.

'No,' I whispered at her, 'Not good.'

I grabbed her hand, so she was still against me. Katie, the receptionist, was staring at me with raised eyebrows. Let her stare. I didn't care.

I started pulling Suze out of this room. I guided her down the hallways, littered with stupid interns and pathetic lawyer-wannabes. I came to the elevator at the end of the seventh floor. I pulled her in after me, then I shut the door, pressing up.

Then I jammed the elevator.

'Right,' I said, turning back towards her. 'You didn't come here to say that.'

I shoved her against the wall, harder than necessary, probably.

'You came here for this.'

- 8 -

Review . . .