Three days after I’d given her an o

Three days after I’d given her an orgasm for lunch I wasn’t any less obsessed.
“So who are you bringing tonight?” Will asked absently, eyes on the folded copy of the Times in his hand.
The drive back to the office from the tailor had been silent up to this point, broken only by the sound of the engine and the occasional car horn or shout from the street. I continued to go over the files I’d brought—photographs from a new exhibit in Queens—as I answered, “Going solo, actually.”
He looked up at me. “You don’t have a date?”
“No.” I glanced over just in time to see his eyebrows inch up in surprise. “What?”
“How long have we known each other, Max?”
“Six years, I’d say.”
“And in all that time, have you ever attended a social function without a date?”
“I really wouldn’t remember.”
“Perhaps we could check Page Six. I bet they’d know,” he deadpanned.
“Very funny.”
“It’s unusual, that’s all. It’s our biggest event of the year and you don’t have a date.”
“It hardly matters, yeah?”
He laughed. “Are you serious with me right now? ‘Who is Max Stella taking?’ is one of the first things people ask when there’s a party like this.”
“I like how you play me up as the skirt-chasing wolf in contrast to you, all upstanding and virtuous.”
“Oh, I never said anything about being virtuous,” he said over the top of his paper. “I’m simply suggesting that people might wonder if you’re meeting someone there, that’s all.”
I turned back to my files as I considered this. In truth, I hadn’t made a date for the fund-raiser. I hadn’t made a date because I wasn’t interested in taking anyone.
Which was weird. Maybe Will was right. Ever since I’d met Sara, other women seemed predictable and tame.



Will was also right when he said the annual Stella & Sumner Charity Gala was our biggest event of the summer. It was held at the Museum of Modern Art, and everyone who was anyone in New York would be in attendance. With dancing, dinner, and the silent auction that followed, we managed to raise hundreds of thousands of dollars for a pediatric cancer foundation every year.
The dreary sky of the afternoon had cleared, but the smell of a storm still hung in the air when my car stopped at the barricades in front of the museum. A valet opened my door and I climbed out, fastening the button of my tuxedo jacket as I stood. My name was called from several directions, the pop and flash of cameras erupting like a small lightning storm within the press area.
“Max! Where’s the date?”
“Max, quick photo! Quick, over here!”
“Any truth to the rumor of a Smithsonian endowment?”
I smiled and posed for pictures, waving as I made my way inside. I felt like I was on autopilot, glad that I’d kept the press from inside the event tonight. I simply didn’t have the energy.
Guests were directed through the museum and out to the garden, where the majority of the party would be held, where crowds of well-dressed people mingled while sipping cocktails and champagne, discussing money and each other and whoever happened to be the gossip of the day. A series of white tents had been erected, each of them lit from below by pools of brightly colored light. An orchestra sat at one end of the garden, a DJ booth for the after party at the other.
The air was heavy and humid, and the night clung to my skin almost uncomfortably. I crossed to a line of large tables dressed in white and dripping in crystal. Reaching for a flute of champagne, I felt someone come near beside me.
“Perfect as usual, Max. You’ve really outdone yourself.”
I blinked over to see Bennett standing next to me.
“It’s bloody hot out here, is what it is,” I said, nodding toward the drink he held in each hand. “Here with your Chloe, I assume.”
“And your date is . . .”
“Flying solo tonight,” I answered. “Hosting duties and what have you.”
Bennett laughed, bringing his glass to his lips. He didn’t comment but it was impossible to miss the way his eyes shifted over my shoulder.
I turned just in time to see Chloe and Sara walking back from the restroom. Sara looked stunning in a light green gown with beading covering the bodice and trickling into the skirt. Silver stilettos peeked out beneath the hem of her dress.
It took a moment before I could speak.
“She’s here with someone, Max.”
I turned and gaped at Bennett before looking around our immediate vicinity to try to spot who she might have come with. “She is? Who?”
“Me.”
“Wait, what? No way.”
“Christ, I’m kidding. Look at your face.” He scratched his jaw and waved casually at someone across the room and I legitimately wanted to punch him.
“Max,” he said, voice low and serious now. “Sara is Chloe’s best friend and an important member of my team. I trust your business sense more than I trust almost anyone’s, but your history with women is not exactly pristine. I’m the last person to point fingers, trust me, but don’t do anything stupid.”
“Calm down. It’s not as if I’m planning to drag her off for a romp in the coat closet or anything.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said with a smile, draining his glass.
“For you, either, mate,” I answered.
Bennett looked almost relieved as I left him at the table, and for the briefest of moments, I felt almost guilty for lying to him. The truth was that while I did want to drag Sara off to the nearest coat closet, I also wanted a moment to just watch her.
I made my way across the garden, shaking a few hands and thanking others for their donations, keeping Sara in my peripheral vision as I went. I stopped to the side of the large Lachaise nude sculpture and watched her from a distance, captivated by how beautiful she looked tonight.
Her gown was long and fitted, displaying every curve perfectly and emphasizing some of my favorite ones.
I remembered the way she’d looked that night on the dance floor, wild in her too-short dress and too-high shoes, and compared that to the sophisticated woman here tonight. I could tell even then that what we’d done had been out of character for her. But I don’t think I’d understood exactly how much until tonight. She was poised and delicate . . . though, still, there was something else, some neglected recklessness beneath her prim exterior.
My eyes moved along the line of her throat and across her collarbone, and I wondered what she was wearing under her gown. I wondered what had brought forth the woman who had fucked me against a wall in a club full of people.
I was fairly certain Bennett hadn’t been joking when he’d suggested I stay away from Sara. Or that his fiancée would have his balls—and mine, too—if she found out. Bennett was obviously aware that I had more than a casual interest in Sara, but he was tight as a vault and, despite his protests, would never interfere if this were what Sara wanted.
But Chloe—she was a different matter altogether. She seemed too smart, her gaze too knowing. I didn’t know much about the future Mrs. Ryan, but I was sure that if Bennett had finally met his match, I did not want to be on her bad side.
And despite that, I was quite enjoying this little game Sara and I seemed to be playing.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

Tiga hari setelah saya telah diberikan padanya orgasme untuk makan siang saya tidak kurang terobsesi."Jadi yang Anda membawa malam ini?" Akan diminta sambil lalu, mata pada copy dilipat kali di tangannya.Perjalanan kembali ke kantor dari penjahit telah diam sampai saat ini, rusak hanya oleh suara mesin dan klakson mobil sesekali atau berteriak dari jalan. Aku terus pergi ke file yang kubawa — foto dari pameran baru di Queens — seperti saya menjawab, "Akan solo, sebenarnya."Ia menatap pada saya. "Anda tidak punya kencan?""Tidak." Aku melirik ke atas tepat pada waktunya untuk melihat inci alis nya naik dalam kejutan. "Apa?""Berapa lama kita tahu satu sama lain, Max?""Enam tahun, aku akan berkata.""Dan dalam semua waktu itu, telah Anda pernah menghadiri fungsi sosial tanpa tanggal?""Saya benar-benar tidak ingat.""Mungkin kita bisa memeriksa enam halaman. Aku yakin mereka akan tahu,"ia deadpanned."Sangat lucu.""Aneh, itu saja. Memang kami acara terbesar tahun dan Anda tidak memiliki tanggal.""Itu tidak penting, ya?"Dia tertawa. ' Apakah Anda serius dengan saya sekarang? ' Yang Max Stella mengambil?' adalah salah satu hal pertama orang bertanya ketika ada pesta seperti ini. ""Saya suka bagaimana Anda bermain saya sebagai rok-mengejar serigala berbeda dengan Anda, Semua terhormat dan berbudi luhur.""Oh, aku tidak pernah mengatakan apa-apa tentang menjadi Saleh," katanya di atas kertas. "Saya hanya menyarankan bahwa orang mungkin bertanya-tanya jika Anda bertemu seseorang di sana, itu saja."Aku menoleh kembali untuk file saya ketika saya mempertimbangkan hal ini. Sebenarnya, saya tidak membuat tanggal untuk malam amal. Aku tidak membuat kencan karena aku tidak tertarik untuk mengambil siapa pun.Itu yang aneh. Mungkin akan sangat tepat. Sejak aku bertemu Sara, perempuan lain tampak diprediksi dan jinak.Akan juga tepat ketika ia berkata Stella tahunan & Sumner amal Gala adalah acara kami terbesar musim panas. Diadakan di Museum of Modern Art, dan semua orang yang ada di New York akan hadir. Dengan menari, makan malam, dan lelang yang diikuti, kami berhasil mengumpulkan ratusan ribu dolar untuk Yayasan pediatrik kanker setiap tahun.Langit suram sore telah membersihkan, tetapi bau badai masih menggantung di udara ketika mobil saya berhenti di barikade di depan museum. Valet membuka pintu dan saya memanjat keluar, pengancing tombol tuksedo jaket saya berdiri. Nama saya dipanggil dari beberapa arah, pop dan flash kamera meletus seperti badai petir kecil dalam wilayah tekan."Max! Di mana adalah tanggal?""Max, foto cepat! Cepat, di sini!""Segala kebenaran untuk desas-desus pemberkatan Smithsonian?"Saya tersenyum dan berpose untuk gambar, melambaikan tangan ketika aku membuat perjalanan di dalam. Aku merasa seperti aku autopilot, senang bahwa saya telah menyimpan pers dari dalam acara malam ini. Aku hanya tidak memiliki energi.Guests were directed through the museum and out to the garden, where the majority of the party would be held, where crowds of well-dressed people mingled while sipping cocktails and champagne, discussing money and each other and whoever happened to be the gossip of the day. A series of white tents had been erected, each of them lit from below by pools of brightly colored light. An orchestra sat at one end of the garden, a DJ booth for the after party at the other.The air was heavy and humid, and the night clung to my skin almost uncomfortably. I crossed to a line of large tables dressed in white and dripping in crystal. Reaching for a flute of champagne, I felt someone come near beside me.“Perfect as usual, Max. You’ve really outdone yourself.”I blinked over to see Bennett standing next to me.“It’s bloody hot out here, is what it is,” I said, nodding toward the drink he held in each hand. “Here with your Chloe, I assume.”“And your date is . . .”“Flying solo tonight,” I answered. “Hosting duties and what have you.”Bennett laughed, bringing his glass to his lips. He didn’t comment but it was impossible to miss the way his eyes shifted over my shoulder.I turned just in time to see Chloe and Sara walking back from the restroom. Sara looked stunning in a light green gown with beading covering the bodice and trickling into the skirt. Silver stilettos peeked out beneath the hem of her dress.It took a moment before I could speak.“She’s here with someone, Max.”I turned and gaped at Bennett before looking around our immediate vicinity to try to spot who she might have come with. “She is? Who?”“Me.”“Wait, what? No way.”“Christ, I’m kidding. Look at your face.” He scratched his jaw and waved casually at someone across the room and I legitimately wanted to punch him.“Max,” he said, voice low and serious now. “Sara is Chloe’s best friend and an important member of my team. I trust your business sense more than I trust almost anyone’s, but your history with women is not exactly pristine. I’m the last person to point fingers, trust me, but don’t do anything stupid.”“Calm down. It’s not as if I’m planning to drag her off for a romp in the coat closet or anything.”“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said with a smile, draining his glass.“For you, either, mate,” I answered.Bennett looked almost relieved as I left him at the table, and for the briefest of moments, I felt almost guilty for lying to him. The truth was that while I did want to drag Sara off to the nearest coat closet, I also wanted a moment to just watch her.I made my way across the garden, shaking a few hands and thanking others for their donations, keeping Sara in my peripheral vision as I went. I stopped to the side of the large Lachaise nude sculpture and watched her from a distance, captivated by how beautiful she looked tonight.Her gown was long and fitted, displaying every curve perfectly and emphasizing some of my favorite ones.I remembered the way she’d looked that night on the dance floor, wild in her too-short dress and too-high shoes, and compared that to the sophisticated woman here tonight. I could tell even then that what we’d done had been out of character for her. But I don’t think I’d understood exactly how much until tonight. She was poised and delicate . . . though, still, there was something else, some neglected recklessness beneath her prim exterior.My eyes moved along the line of her throat and across her collarbone, and I wondered what she was wearing under her gown. I wondered what had brought forth the woman who had fucked me against a wall in a club full of people.I was fairly certain Bennett hadn’t been joking when he’d suggested I stay away from Sara. Or that his fiancée would have his balls—and mine, too—if she found out. Bennett was obviously aware that I had more than a casual interest in Sara, but he was tight as a vault and, despite his protests, would never interfere if this were what Sara wanted.But Chloe—she was a different matter altogether. She seemed too smart, her gaze too knowing. I didn’t know much about the future Mrs. Ryan, but I was sure that if Bennett had finally met his match, I did not want to be on her bad side.And despite that, I was quite enjoying this little game Sara and I seemed to be playing.