Free The Other Other Woman by Mallory Lockhart Page B

could tell from the way she typed she was a younger girl. With a name like that, she would be easy to Google. So, of course, I did. There was a link to her Facebook page which was mostly hidden from the public, but you could kind of see her small profile picture. I couldn’t make out her face, but she appeared to have a really nice body. I was able to see from her page that she was 25. That was a few years older than Matt’s adopted son, so I still wasn’t getting the connection, but it was very obvious she was desperately searching for a job. She seemed to need Matt’s help with that, just about every day. No sir, I did not care for it.
    I figured if we cared enough about each other to sleep together, then I probably had the right to just ask him what the deal was, but it still made me very nervous. I’m not sure why. Our communication thus far had been excellent. I felt like I could tell him anything at all, but the idea of asking him about information I saw in his emails seemed so sneaky, like I was spying. Probably because I was spying. But it was my job to spy. I decided I would ask him about her the next day, preferably before he got any of my clothes off, and I put it out of my mind for the evening.
     
    That Monday, 11:30 a.m. couldn’t come fast enough. He had suggested I grab us some lunch, and I knew my boy liked to eat, so I went to my favorite take-out place. It’s just a local dive near my neighborhood, but it has the best Italian food in the city. I got us an order of spaghetti marinara and penne carbonara and a huge piece of the most alcohol-soaked tiramisu ever made. It’s so delicious, you can practically get drunk just from the smell of the ladyfingers swimming in Kahlua. Since I had been on a fairly strict diet of eating all non-processed food for months, pasta and dessert were two items I typically did not eat anymore. I was looking forward to lunch almost as much as the sex.
    We kept in touch throughout the morning, and I finally arrived back at room 207 with food in hand. I grabbed a quick kiss from him and went to put the food down on the desk. He had just gotten back into the room himself when I got there and was taking off his sport coat. It was brand new, and he was so excited about it. As he was hanging it up, he had to open it up and point out all its features to me in intricate detail (single-breasted, slim fit, tonal stripe, etc.). To be honest, it looked like a coat to me, and I was just happy to see some of his clothing coming off. But since he was so cute, I humored my little fashionista as I poured us some Chianti from a screw-top bottle into paper cups.
    We both laughed over our super classy wine and glassware as I handed him his cup. He gave a little toast “to us,” and we both took a couple of sips. Then we set our cups down for a proper greeting, now that my arms were no longer full. He was facing me now in a lavender shirt and some fitted flat-front black pants. As I reached around him to pull him closer to me, I found myself wanting to thank God for the outline of his ass in those pants because it was truly magnificent. And I’m not even a religious person.
    We hugged each other tightly. He put his hands around the nape of my neck, cradling my ears, and tipped my head up toward those gorgeous lips to give me the slowest, most penetrating kiss ever. I honestly didn’t know how sex could possibly feel any better than how delirious I felt when he kissed me like that. I wouldn’t have remembered my own name if you had asked me.
    “Mmm… Morning, sweetie, I missed you last night…” he purred.
    “I missed you too. I could not WAIT to get back here.”
    How hungry are you?” he asked, as he slowly moved his lips over mine again.
    “Absolutely starving.” I said.
    “Oh. Well, then do you want eat lunch now?”
    “No… Sure don’t.’’
    “Me either.”
    We both giggled nervously, and he began slowly moving his fingers down my neck, slipping my favorite fitted black