Elliot's body stiffened for a moment. But in the next second, his hand presses against my waist, tightens, and then his tongue licks my lips.
Once, twice.
My heart begins to race, and all I can hear in my ears is the thumping sound, as if surrounded by a waterfall in the rainforest, unable to hear anything else clearly.
Then, Elliot captures my tongue with his lips, teasing it slowly.
The process feels so slow, as if it has no end, and I feel a tingling sensation from my coccyx to the top of my head, then I fall into Elliot's embrace.
He responds with even more passion.
"Macy, I love you," he holds me close and whispers.
I lost my ability to speak. My mind spinning, and I can only reply with a concise "Mm."
I know.
"Macy, I've decided to move my office to Italy..." Elliot pleads, "Can we see each other more often from now on?"
"Okay, let's meet more later."
Love is probably the most uncontrollable thing.
Since I like him, I need to give us more confidence.
After that day, we go out on several dates again. Like any other couple, we watch movies, have candlelight dinners, and wait for the sunset in Florence's Piazza Michelangelo.
But Elliot has a tendency to take advantage of the situation.
One kiss makes him feel entitled to a second, a third, and countless more.
One weekend, he invites me out again.
This time, the reason seems legitimate: he invites me to a home furnishing mall. He has already found a new office location, and the office needs some furniture, and I happen to have good taste.
In the mall's office section, I found a milky-white desk, an iris-shaped floor lamp, and a very artistic decorative cabinet.
But none of them are suitable for the office.
"Forget it, let's look at something else," I say.
Elliot places his hand on my back. The gesture seems innocent, but the tip of his thumb lightly caresses my bare skin.
Through the mirror on the opposite side, I see my face turning slightly red.
"I'll order whatever you like. The ones that don't fit the office can be placed elsewhere," he says.
I ask in a soft voice, "Where would you put them?"
Elliot's hand slides along my back and finally lands on my neck as he whispers, "I'll put them in our home."
I am stunned for a moment.
Elliot quickly changed the topic. he asks softly, "Your hair seems a bit longer, doesn't it?"
Elliot is very close to me.
I can even smell that unique faint scent on his fingers, as if he has smoked, sorted books, or touched white ginger flowers.
I control myself and say softly, "I'll get a haircut tomorrow," but can't resist asking, "What do you mean by 'our home'?"
"Last night, I was thinking that in the future, we will definitely live together and need a new house," Elliot leans closer to me, smiling tenderly, "Your home is nice too, but it's not very big, and it might not be very convenient."
"Huh?" My tongue trembles.
But Elliot doesn't continue; he flicks the hair by my ear with his thumb and says, "Let's pick another bookcase for the office."
An hour later, the ready-made furniture we select is delivered to Elliot's office address.
I sit in a swivel chair, facing the bare wall at a 45-degree angle, and say to Elliot, "I have a few paintings that would fit well here. I'll have them sent to you tomorrow."
But Elliot doesn't respond.
"Elliot?" I turn my head to look at him.
He leans against the office desk, facing me directly, and suddenly reaches out to grab the armrest of the swivel chair. In the next second, he pulls me towards him.
Both of his hands rest on the chair's armrests, trapping me in the small chair.
Then, his face looms large in front of me.
"Let me go..." My loose-fitting light-colored cotton linen blouse got wrinkled by Elliot's hands, and a button came undone.
But as if he hasn't heard me, Elliot continues to kiss my lips.
My legs are also parted, hooked around Elliot's waist.
People pass by outside the office from time to time, occasionally accompanied by a few whispers. The sound of the central air conditioning is soft. The chair sways gently, and the wheels make a faint sound as they slide on the maple wood floor.
"I'm not coming here again," much later, I wipe my moist lips with the back of my hand, awkwardly turning away from Elliot, "Don't you think you've gone too far recently?"
Elliot laughs and embraces me from behind, leaning down to kiss my neck, "Not too far. I can be even more daring. Macy, when will you give... to me?"
Give what?
He doesn't finish the sentence, but I understand what he means.
Elliot's gaze is deep, and as I meet his eyes, I don't know how to respond.
Much later.
"Elliot," I pause, "In the past, I always followed your pace, but now... can't we reverse it?"
A hint of disappointment flashes in Elliot's eyes, but he quickly smiles.
"Okay," he uses his large palm to hold the back of my head, ready to kiss me again, "Then, I'll just exercise the rights I can exercise for now."
At this moment, my phone rings.
I struggle out of his embrace, pick up the phone, and say, "Our colleagues from the company are planning to rent a villa for a party next Friday, are you coming?"
After finishing speaking, I regret it a little and add, "Actually, there won't be much good food... and it might get noisy..."
But Elliot immediately agreed, "I have a video conference that day, but after it's over, I'll come to find you."
I nod.
Friday happens to be a sunny day, with blue skies, white clouds, and fresh air. We drive to the suburban villa as soon as we finish work. The dense trees around the villa ensure its privacy, and there is a swimming pool and two large gardens inside.
This villa is also one of Elliot's assets. After hearing that we wanted to rent a villa, he offered his own.
While we were having a feast in the backyard, Elliot was having a video conference in a room on the second floor of the villa.
As the night darkens, I wipe my mouth with a tissue, get up, and go to find Elliot.
It's now nine o'clock, and he should have finished work by now. I am kind, and left him plenty of food.
But as I walk to the corridor on the first floor, I hear Elliot's voice coming from the stairs.
I quietly move closer, peeking from a corner.
Elliot is holding a glass of red wine, and there's a beautiful woman standing across from him.
From her well-proportioned figure and brown long curly hair, I can tell that she's Emma from our company. She's 22 years old, with a mixed ethnic background, and she speaks three languages.
From the day she arrived at our company, she has caused quite a stir among male colleagues. Everyone would find a reason to pass by her desk, wanting to catch a glimpse of the legendary beauty.
I stand still, continuing to observe from downstairs.
In the next second, Emma lightly tosses her hair, revealing half of her shoulder.
"Wanna have a drink together?" Her voice is soft and charming.
Elliot glances at her, "Thanks, no need."
But Emma takes another half step forward, still not giving up, "Who is it? Who did you come here with tonight?"
"The best-looking one in your company, Macy."
"Macy?" She pauses for a moment, then looks surprised, "That single mother?!"
Elliot shrugs, bypasses Emma, and quickly walks down the stairs.
Then, he came across me, who was eavesdropping downstairs.
"Hi," I wave and greet him.
Elliot walks towards me, grabs my wrist, and stares at me for a couple of seconds,
"Are you drunk?"