The Wrong Move

Ella

For weeks, I felt guilty about fantasizing over Zane. I couldn’t bring myself to have sex with Adam, knowing he wouldn’t be the man I was imagining bringing me to orgasm.

After week three of avoiding sex with Adam, I called a crisis meeting. My team consisted of me, my sister, and my best friend. We met for dinner at our favorite place.

“Guys!” I practically yelled after taking a sip of my third margarita. “You don’t understand how delicious this man is. And it’s like he’s under my skin.”

“I can’t seem to shake him even though I’ve only met him once and we barely touched. I felt something here.” I knotted my hand and rested it against my lower abdomen.

They shared a glance with each other while I dipped my chip in my queso, drawing my eyebrows together as I munched.

“Listen, El,” Adrienne began, “Adam is a solid guy. He really likes you, he treats you well, and he’s stable and reliable.

“All three great things for a relationship.” My best friend munched on her taco before continuing. “Give up fantasy guy. Accept what’s right in front of you!”

She had very valid points, things I’d been mulling over for weeks. I looked at my sister with sad, wide eyes. “What do you think, Ollie?” I asked, using her childhood nickname.

Olivia looked over the rim of her glasses while she sipped her margarita. Olivia was adopted by my parents as a baby. Unbeknownst to my parents, my mother was pregnant with me.

So Liv and I are only 13 months apart. She had always been an amazing sister and friend. We were very different, not just in appearance but in attitude.

Liv has creamy pale skin, golden hair, and hazel eyes. She was always so studious and had used that skill to become a top lawyer in the city. She was a bit prudish and old-fashioned.

She was the yin to my yang.

“Sis,” she said calmly, “you know I love you and I don’t want you to settle but... be realistic here. Adam seems to adore you. You met this Zane one time and he seems quite rude.

“Now, I say push him out of your mind and go talk to Adam!”

I felt my spirit sink a little hearing their honest, and probably correct, point of view. “Ok,” I mumbled, pulling out my phone. I pulled up Adam’s number.

The reply was almost instant, making me feel even more guilty. I snagged another chip while I poured silently.

My crisis team didn’t always tell me what I wanted to hear, but both of them, regardless of their prudish qualities, had always been there for me. Unfortunately, they were both probably right.

We chatted about Olivia’s cases and about Adrienne’s clients. Adrienne is the best beautician around and my go-to gal for a good makeover.

I shared some silly stories about my students as we settled into our flow, my man problem forgotten.

“Remember Delia Lawrence?” Adrienne asked. Olivia and I made sour faces. Delia was not a happy topic for us. “Well, I heard from Thomas that she’s back from New York.

“She’s got some fancy degree and has come back to take the world by storm.”

I rolled my eyes. “The only thing Delia takes by storm is the male population.”

Adrienne snorted loudly. “Who was that guy you dated? Was it Dennis or uh....” she snapped her fingers, “Daniel! You never forgave him for that!”

I downed the rest of my margarita. “Well, ladies, I’m off to meet Adam for that talk. I’ll keep you both posted.” I grabbed my purse and gave the girls a small wave before heading out the door.

I hailed a taxi and gave him Adam’s address. Gazing out the window, I tried to shake off the funk from being reminded of Delia and Daniel.

The cab pulled up to Adam’s apartment, and after slipping the driver some cash, I jumped out and headed up. When he opened the door, he had a big grin on his face.

“Call me crazy, but I almost thought you were avoiding me,” he said as he pulled me into a hug. I softened against him and leaned up to plant a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Just been a crazy few weeks.” We settled on the couch. Adam draped his arm over my shoulders.

“So we are good?”

I smiled sweetly. “Of course!”

“Good, 'cause I wanted to ask you something. Would you accompany me to my company’s summer picnic?”

I felt my smile freeze on my face. His company, that meant a certain boss who should not be thought of. I licked my lips and nodded slightly. “I would love to,” I said. Adam pulled me up into his lap.

I straddled him and rested my hands on his shoulders.

“I really like you, Ella,” he said, staring into my eyes, all traces of his easy joking manner gone. “Ever since I saw you on that stage belting Adele, I knew you were amazing.

“I just want to check that we are on the same page.”

I felt myself melting against him at his words. Adam was such a gentleman, and I was a bitch fantasizing about his boss!

“You are great, Adam. I’m really in this.” Our eyes were locked, and I saw a grin settle over Adam’s face.

He cupped my face and pulled me into a sweet kiss. I ran my hand up to his hair, stroking his soft locks. His hands wrapped around to my back, pulling me flush to his chest.

I wiggled against him, smiling into his mouth. I can do this, I thought to myself. I don’t need some chiseled British dude who was rude. Adam was the perfect all-American boy. He was right for me.

As our clothes started to be peeled away, Adam’s name ran through my mind over and over. It became my mantra as I left my eyes open to focus on the face in front of me.

Our tongues brushed gently as I rocked my body atop his. He let out a groan as my fingers unsnapped his pants and stroked his length.

He pulled away to reach the end table by the couch, where he pulled out a box of condoms. “Prepared?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I was a Boy Scout.”

We grinned at each other as I helped Adam sheathe himself. I stood to pull my underwear off before restraddling him. I sunk onto his length as I used my legs and arms to pump myself up and down.

Both of us released soft moans as we continued to move with each other. Adam held my hips as he helped meet my thrusts. I focused on his face as I rode him steadily.

I felt Adam struggling to hold back, so I flung my head back and began to moan louder. I clenched my thighs as I pretended to orgasm. Adam finished shortly after.

As we lay in bed that night, I kept thinking, why did I fake it?

That Saturday, Adam took me to his company picnic. As we got out of the car, I saw huge balloons and games, picnic tables, people, and children spread all over the park.

There were hot dogs and hamburgers on a grill, and the sweet smell of watermelon passed me.

Adam set his arm around my middle as I smoothed down my yellow flowered sundress. “You look amazing, as usual,” I smiled as we began to walk toward a large crowd.

There was a magician on a raised platform, and he had captivated both the children and the adults alike. We stopped to observe the tricks.

He was pulling a long train of multicolored scarves out of a top hat. I giggled a little at the standard trick and saw the round eyes of the children awestruck.

“Your company really doesn’t know how to half-ass a party,” I whispered to Adam. His lips turned up at the corners.

“Let’s just say someone has a flair for the dramatic.”

“And look who we have here.” I heard a very cool voice say behind me. My skin felt like it was on fire. I knew that voice. I had dreamed of that voice for the past three weeks.

Adam spun around, pulling me with him, and I came face to face with my dream and my nightmare. And next to him stood a very familiar figure—Delia Lawrence.