I settled in, thinking that I'd have a drink or two with him, then head over to the party. Maybe bring him with me if he seemed interested. I could always use another gay friend.

The more we drank, the more our natural flirtiness came out. We were both very physical people, apparently, and we touched each other as we talked. A hand on an arm, a quick touch, a soft rub.

"So, tell me about yourself," I said. We had been talking about everything in the world, politics, the news, entertainment. He was a great listener, but could also tell a great story. Neither of us had talked about ourselves at all, other than my one initial reference to the party I was supposed to attend. "What are you actually doing here tonight?"

"Well, the company I work for, we're here doing a little entertaining," he said with a wink, like I wouldn't know what that meant. "Clients from out of town, you know... get them liquored up and get them to make some commitments." He grinned sheepishly, like he was a little embarrassed by the tactics, but not enough to truly resist.

"That sounds like fun," I teased. "What do you do?"

"I work for a pharmaceutical company, in sales," he said. I nodded, letting him know I was listening. "I love it, I really do. I'm a people person, and I need to get out of the office and just talk to people." He touched my arm when he said that, and I thought I would slide off the chair. I don't know why he still affected me the way he did. I knew I couldn't have him. "Although, I've been in this damn hotel for a week now," he said, with a hint of frustration.

"What do you mean" I asked. "In the bar? Entertaining?"

"Well, that," he said. "Yes. But no one can drive after all the drinking, of course, so the company puts us up in the hotel. Rooms, food, drinks, everything, for the whole week. It's fun at first, but after a few days, I'm tired of the jet-set life, and I just want to be home."

"Wow," I replied. "That's fantastic, really. Very generous. I heard this place was amazing. I read an article somewhere, maybe Southern Living? I can't remember, but it was about the decorator. How the design of the rooms was completely different and innovative."

"Oh, yes!" he said, excitedly. "The rooms are really nice." He paused for a minute, sipped his drink and seemed to gather his thoughts. "Actually," he said, "I have a suite. They give us a suite because sometimes things get a little raucous," he said with a wink. I made a face, not sure if he was talking about something I didn't want to know, and he immediately reacted. "No! Not like that!" He laughed and leaned towards me, placing his hand on my knee.

"Well, I was wondering..." I started.

"No! Oh my God, you must have thought I was some sort of horrible, lacking-in-morals, corporate pimp!"

I laughed when he said "pimp," but his hand was still on my knee, my bare knee, my freshly-shaved, recently-lotioned knee, and the skin-to-skin contact was fogging my brain. I tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but all I could think about was him moving his hand under my skirt. I had to stop this. I was getting myself unnecessarily excited, when no sex with him was in my immediate future.

We both stopped laughing at about the same time, sighed a little, then took sips from our drinks.

Hmm. He keeps touching her. And she keeps reacting. I wonder why...

This one was really short. If I have time, I might post the next chapter tonight, just as a little extra for y'all. :)

All things "Twilight" belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. :)