Chapter 16 : Fly Me to the Moon, Superman

Simone I took a deep breath as I opened the door and plastered a smile on my face. "Hi, Rob!" I said cheerfully. "It's so good to see you!" I sounded fake to myself, but I prayed he wouldn't notice. No such luck. "You've been crying," he said, point blank. I instinctively touched my face, but it was dry. "No, I haven't," I lied. "I took a long nap. I probably just look tired." He cocked his head to the side and tightened his lips. "Do you know that your eyes dart back and forth when you lie?" I suddenly felt very exposed in front of him. He was calling me on my shit, and there was nothing I could do or say. Never in my life had a man been so insightful about my feelings. "We don't have to go out," he said gently. "If this isn't a good time, we can reschedule. Oh, God, you aren't crying because of me, are you?" I smiled at this, though he genuinely looked worried. "Trust me," I said, "You're a bright spot in this shitty day." He stepped forward and pulled me into a tight embrace. "That's good to hear," he said. I could feel the way his voice vibrated through his chest. It was nice. Comforting. Intimate. Sexy. "I could really use your company, actually," I said into his chest. "That's a deal," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. An hour and a half later, we were having an after-dinner cocktail at a high-end nightclub. I was seeing that confident, sexy Rob again, and I was really enjoying the view. "Can I ask you a question?" I asked, having to talk loud to be heard over the live music. "Sure," he laughed. "Something is different about you," I said. "That's not a question," he laughed again. He stood up and took my hand, leading me to the dance floor. We started dancing to a slow song, pressing our bodies close. He was warm and hard, and he moved with me. I ran my fingers over his shirt collar. "You didn't answer my question," I said. He smiled at me. "You didn't ask me a question," he reminded me. "Right. You changed. Why did you change? How did you change?" He shook his head, chuckling more. "I didn't change, Simone. I'm still exactly the person I was." "Nuh-uh," I whined. "You were so… tight when I met you." I thought for a moment. "No, that's the wrong word. You were buttoned up. Nervous. You could barely look me in the eye." "That's still true," he responded, though he was looking right at me, and his hands had moved to my waist as we swayed together to the beat. He was so close I could feel his breath on my face. It would be so easy to close the distance between us. "No," I said resolutely. "You came back from your trip, and you had all this swagger. You were . . . sexy as hell," I purred. He looked shocked by my words. "You think I'm sexy?" I pushed my body as close to him as I could possibly get and tilted my head to his ear. "You're Clark f*cking Kent," I said, caught up in the moment. "I just want to throw you in a phone booth and rip your clothes off." "Would I come out as Superman?" he asked. I leaned back and looked in his eyes seductively. "I think we should find out." The rational part of my brain told me it was dangerous to be so close to a man when I was emotionally vulnerable. That didn't stop me from pulling Rob's lips to mine. He was stiff at first, exactly how I thought he would be. He was clearly taken aback by the sudden movement. Hell, I was taken aback by it too. Our date had suddenly gotten very… intimate. All I could think about was unbuttoning his crisp, perfectly pressed shirt and throwing it on his bedroom floor. Where the hell that thought came from, I couldn't say. Sure, I'd thought Rob was hot and sexy since the first time we met, but he was hot in a nerdy way. He was the kind of guy who couldn't talk to girls; he was the kind of hot that felt… safe. Now, I wanted to take him into very dangerous territory. He pulled away, though. "Simone, you've clearly had an emotional day. I really don't want you to regret this tomorrow." His voice was sorrowful but firm. He'd removed his hands from my hips and was moving away from me.. I tugged at his sleeve. "I'm not going to regret it," I assured him. "You're f*cking hot, and I want you right now." He fixed me with a hard, intense gaze. "Let's get out of here then." I nodded, and he quickly paid the check. He led me out, squeezing my hand, and we left our half-finished cocktails on the bar. He opened my car door and I slid in. When he got into the driver's side, there was a stony look on his face, and he didn't answer right away. He motioned to put the car in reverse, but thought better of it and put it back in park. He turned to me and said, "You're f*cking beautiful." I nodded awkwardly, not really sure how else to respond. He leaned his head back against the door and closed his eyes. It was like he was searching his thoughts for the magical solution to whatever problem he was having. "You want to know what changed?" he finally said. "I met you. You were so gorgeous and so kind and so smart and I thought 'this is literally my dream girl.'" My heart soared at his words. That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me. "And then," he continued, "I thought, 'Don't be an idiot, Rob. She's just doing her job.'" I giggled at his unintentional rhyme. He continued, "I knew there was no chance in hell a girl like you would even look twice at a guy like me." "That's not true," I whispered sincerely. I leaned closer to him and put my hand on his knee. He flinched but didn't move away. "I do think you're sexy," I said, my hand moving further up his leg. "I'm not f*cking with you or whatever you think. But, most of all, you make me feel safe. When I'm with you, I know I can just be myself. I don't have to put on a mask or pretend everything is okay." His face softened, and I saw the flicker of desire in his eyes. I stopped moving my hand, though, in case he freaked out again. "So you're not just the mean cheerleader who agreed to go out with me as a prank?" he asked seriously. My heart ached thinking that some bitch had ever treated this sweet man with that kind of disrespect. I wanted to wrap him up in my arms and hold him there forever. "I was never a cheerleader," I said simply. He took a deep breath and smiled finally. He relaxed and moved closer to me. I smiled warmly at him; I felt so comfortable with him, so… myself. Heart to hearts could have that effect. My mind was buzzing with images of snarky teenage Crystals being mean to sweet Rob. I hated girls like that. And here I was, a former model, who could rock his world. I moved my hand further up his leg until it was almost at the seat of his pants. "I think you should take me back to your place," I whispered seductively. Still, there was a nagging voice in the back of my mind saying, "Michael! Remember him?" So I told Rob, "But I just want you to know that I'm not looking for a relationship right now. I do want you, so badly, but I need to know that you're okay if this is just sex." He cursed lowly and pulled the car out of its spot. I noticed, with interest, that he didn't turn in the direction of my house. *** I already knew Rob's house inside and out. I'd researched every detail, every piece of crown molding, every light fixture. I didn't need a tour or any preamble when we entered the foyer. I was ready to start researching Rob. "Do you want a drink?" he asked nervously. "No," I answered plainly. He swallowed hard, and I could see the conflicted look on his face again. It was like he didn't trust himself. Or maybe he didn't think he was good enough for this. It was f*cking adorable. His uncertainty fueled my desire. "I'd like to go to your bedroom," I told him. He obviously needed some encouragement. He swallowed hard again and let out a long breath. Enough was enough. I grabbed his hand and led him toward his bedroom. When we were inside, I locked the door and instructed him to sit on the bed. He stared at me with apparent lust as I stepped out of my shoes and unzipped my dress. Soon, it was discarded on the floor. I walked slowly to him with just my underwear on and moved his hands so that they were at my waist. "Tell me what you want," I whispered into his ear, then started nibbling at his lobe. "I want to touch you," he said lowly. I moved away from him and repositioned myself on the bed so that I was lying on my back, open and ready for him. He looked hesitant, so I sat up a little and pulled on his shirt collar. He relented and started crawling up the bed, hovering over my body. "Where do you want to touch me?" I asked him. "Everywhere," he said, his voice dripping with desire. I reached up and gently removed his glasses, placing them carefully on the bedside table. "Well, Clark Kent," I joked, "you'd better get started." Though he'd been hesitant at first, his touches were firm. Everything about the way he stroked, rubbed, and tickled me was completely calculated. He took his time, like he was working on a machine. He wanted to take me apart and put me together again. I breathed heavily with anticipation, waiting to see what new function he could find. I couldn't take it anymore. I finally got my wish and ripped his shirt off. "Ask me what I want," I commanded, as I took off his belt and threw it across the room. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice thick and heavy. "I want you inside of me," I said, pulling him out of his boxers and bringing him where I needed him. His tip was right at my entrance, and I was dying for the friction. Still, I wanted him to feel like the sexy man he was. "Fly me to the moon, Superman," I said huskily as he pushed inside of me.