Free Let Me Count The Ways by P.G. Forte

mosaic covered most of the remaining walls, I refused to look at it too closely. I was sure, if I did, I’d find Mike’s signature there somewhere, worked into the design.
    Was there nothing the man hadn’t thought to try his hand at?
    Somehow, I’d imagined an accountant would be more... conventional. Methodical, practical, traditional, even a little boring; that’s really what I’d been expecting. But Mike, it appeared, was none of those. That should have been a good thing. And yet...
    He was intriguing. There was no denying that. Unfortunately, I wasn’t looking to be that intrigued by a casual lover. He was interesting, unusual, captivating. I wasn’t looking to be captivated either. Not by anyone.
    Claire Calhoun was damned good in bed, whether or not there were cameras rolling. She might play a submissive onscreen, if that’s what the role called for. She might even tease a lover into thinking she was there to fulfill his every desire, rather than the other way around. But, at the end of the day--when the cameras stopped rolling, when the grunting and sweating were over--everyone knew it had just been an act. At least for the most part.
    I stepped beneath the shower’s powerful spray hoping to clear the confusion from my head. The warm water felt wonderful as it pounded at my sore muscles. It brought to mind the massage Mike had given me the night before. It brought to mind his hands and his mouth, his cock, his voice. Before I knew it, my hand had slipped down to finger my pussy, to rub my clit; already swollen, already aching. I groaned with the need I felt building within me.
    Getting myself off would only relieve some of the tension. If I were really going to do the job right I’d need an assist. And, for that, I wanted Mike. I wanted him inside me now. I had half a mind to open the door and call for him. I wanted him to join me in the shower. To push me up against the wall and--
    No. I snatched my hand away, turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Sex would just have to wait. Right now, it was time to leave. I had a busy day ahead of me. I’m sure I had all sorts of appointments I was forgetting about.
    I dressed quickly. Not willing to wait a moment longer than necessary, I gave up searching for my panties, slipped bare feet into my heels, stuffed my stockings and garter into my purse and used the phone by Mike’s bed to call for a cab.

    * * * *

    Mike was in the kitchen, scrambling eggs in a bowl, when I found him. The little tiger-eye stud still glittered in his ear lobe. I’d thought it looked sexy paired with a suit. It looked even better juxtaposed against the burgundy velour robe he was wearing this morning. His eyebrows rose as he looked me over. “You’re dressed already?” He sounded disappointed. “I was going to bring you breakfast in bed.”
    He’s really very sweet . I smiled, intending to tell him so, but before I got a word out, my attention was captured by the large mango-colored bird perched on the back of one of the dining room chairs, feeding itself from a bowl of fruit.
    “Oh, my God.” Changing course, I made a bee line for the bird who had stopped eating and was looking at me curiously. “Hello, there, gorgeous. Where did you come from? I didn’t see you last night.”
    The macaw cocked her head to the side and murmured inquisitively.
    “She was asleep when we got in,” Mike said. “I keep her cage in the spare bedroom because, you know, she can be kind of loud at times.”
    “I’ll bet.” Maui Sunset Macaws are very talkative birds. They’re also a very rare hybrid. Most people have never even seen a picture of one. The only reason I knew anything at all about them was because I’d worked with one in a movie years ago. And this one here, with her marmalade-shaded front, faded-olive back and tail, and the almost iridescent sheen on her wings, was a dead ringer for that other bird. They both resembled golden parrot idols come to life. Which was