Free What Love Looks Like by Lara Mondoux Page A

being
so close to him, and when he finally finished, his gratified look was enough
for me to know I’d satisfied him.
    The hour that
followed was positively dreamy. We lay in between the sheets together,
completely entwined. My legs had no strength left, and his thin, well-formed arms
encircled me as he traced circles up and down my spine with his fingers. Every
now and then he’d plant a cool kiss on my cheek or my shoulder, and he
repeatedly told me how incredible he thought our sex was.
    “I knew it would
be, though,” he said.
             “You
mean you thought about sex with me before tonight?”
    “Well, yeah. I’m
a guy, Elle.” He laughed. “I just thought you were so hot, and I kicked myself
for not seeing you last time I was here. I figured it had to happen this time
because of the connection we had.”
    I shrugged off
that he was so confident he’d get me into bed because he was so sweetly
distraught when I told him I wouldn’t be spending the night. I had a strict
policy of always leaving guys wanting more. I wasn’t sure if it was too late
for that (after all, we’d already had sex and pillow talk), but I certainly
wasn’t going to linger around for a sleepover. I wanted him to think I wasn’t
too emotionally invested—even though I utterly burned for more of him.
    We put our
clothes on, and he walked me down to the lobby. His unbuttoned shirt looked so
sexy that I was half-tempted to take him back upstairs and have my way with him
again. But that would have defeated the purpose of leaving in the first place.
He had to think, at least for a while, that I had better things to do than just
spend time with him. We held hands all the way down the elevator and to the
hotel’s front exit, where my car was valet parked. He faced me, holding me by
the rear end, and kissed me goodnight. “I’ll see you in New York,” he said.
    “Yes you will.
Thanks for dinner.”
    At home, I
walked Luna, who had been dropped off by the dog sitter a few hours earlier. In
the dark of night, everything was clear. Jay and I would be something
significant. Upstairs, I crawled with Luna into my bed, imagining I was still
in bed with Jay. To some degree I regretted not staying with him, but I
couldn’t have left Luna alone all night anyway. It would have been nice to hold
onto him for hours, but I rationalized leaving when I did as an investment in
the longevity of our relationship. By not staying with him that night, I was
ensuring that I’d sleep with him again in the future. If I’d stayed for an
awkward waking up together, preceded by the mandatory morning sex, than he
would have believed that I was wrapped around his finger. Instead, I'd left him
in the throes of pleasure and hopefully wanting more.
    And then I
realized I wasn’t making any sense. It was all just a bunch of words. Every
ounce of my flesh and blood hungered to see him again, and if I didn’t, my
heart would be broken.

 
 
 
 
 
 
    6

 
 
             Following
Jay’s visit, I lost any desire to eat or drink to fill my void. In fact, had
almost no appetite for anything other than him. Whenever I met a guy I was even
a little captivated by, I’d lose my hunger for anything consumable. With Jay,
this was extreme. My hollowness had been eased when part of his body entered
mine. I felt as if I finally knew the meaning of the phrase falling in love . Falling alluded to the
involuntary and inevitable vulnerability of one’s heart; in this case, mine.
    I wanted to be
my paramount self, because the best version of me, Elle Coppola 2.0, was the
only version that was worthy of Jay. He deserved so much more than the former
outcast with emotional issues left over from an agonizing adolescence. And I
never wanted him to know who I used to be.
    Jay made me want
to be impeccable in everything I did. Consequently, I was meticulous at work,
and my event sales directly reflected my diligence. Maureen watched as I
perfected myself in the