The Nature of Love

Chapter 21

Copyright (c) 2015 Phyllis Zimbler Miller

All rights reserved.

Postal Service approves increasing the cost of first-class mail from 13 cents to 15 cents for a one-ounce letter. -- May 19, 1978

St. Louis 1978

     "Come on, your husband won't know. You're separated now."

     Kenneth pushes his jean-clad body against me. I shiver. It's been months since I've slept with Steve.

     "I've got a class to teach in two hours," I say.

     "So do I. We'll be back in plenty of time."

     I glance out my office door. Any moment someone can come by. "Okay. But where?" I'm not about to do it in my office. I do have some standards."

     "I'll get a room at the hotel across from campus. It'll take us five minutes to walk over."

     He squeezes my tush. I grab my purse.

***

     My God, I haven't come like this since Rusty. Twice in a row. Kenneth may teach ancient history but he's certainly well-versed on modern sex techniques.

     I watch him as he dresses, lovingly brushing his amber Bryonic locks. I could fall for him. And not just because of his sexual prowess. His body's in terrific shape, a weekend athlete. And he's brilliant. His latest book on the Roman Empire garnered top reviews.

     He's also a narcissist and a hedonist. Perhaps he pictures himself an ancient Roman misplaced in the 20th Century. A man like this probably can't truly love a woman. He's too much in love with himself, which is probably why he's not married.

     "Come on, Jennifer, get dressed. I promised we'd be back in time for our classes."

     He grabs me and pinches my breasts. "Just a reminder of things to come," he says.

     He pulls the room door shut and we walk out through the lobby. He does not leave the key at the desk.

***

     I have been stewing over that key since yesterday. Why didn't he give it back? Did he forget?

     I think I know the answer. But I'm an historian, trained to research the truth. I pick up the phone, then realize I can't ask what time room 102 checked out today. The hotel may have had other guests who checked in late last night to the same room after Kenneth realized he forgot to leave the key.

     But my gut tells me he's a son of a bitch! He took another woman there for the night while I was home with my kids. Two birds for the price of one hotel room.

     I brush my hands through my hair. But, shit, he sure was good yesterday. He may not be the man to love me, but he can provide a diversion. So if he asks me again, I'll probably say yes.

     There's only one question. What price will I pay to keep sleeping with him?

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