The Dare

Chapter 27: MOMA

The charity gala at the Musuem of Modern Art is one of the only events I actually look forward to attending each year. Usually I go with Elena or Nathan, but this year I'm on my own.
I was excited picking out my dress, getting my hair done and letting a professional apply my makeup. Now that I'm here, I feel a little blah. I'm watching the people weave in and out the crowd. The couples holding hands or linking arms and posing for pictures. Not that I want to take a pic, but it would be nice to be able to share more than surface conversation with the people in attendance. I'm on my third drink of champagne when I feel my phone buzzing in my purse.
Vaughan: Sorry I missed your call earlier. How did the outfit turn out? Send pics.
Me: Nope. You have to be here in person to truly appreciate how magnificent I look.
Vaughan: Is that so?
Me: Yup.  This outfit is truly red eye flight worthy. 
"I agree." 
My fingers freeze above the keys.  I turn slowly to face him praying I'm not just imagining his voice in my head. 
"And might add the back is just as stunning as the front." 
I feel my heart galloping in my chest.   Then it comes to a screeching halt when I realize he's wearing a tux. 
"Maybe this isn't the happy surprise I envisioned."  He says filling the silence between us.   "Don't worry.  I can pretend not to know you.  But Gail and Christian put this on my calendar.  They made it seem like you might need back up."
"You flew all the way here so I wouldn't have to suffer alone?"
"And to see this dress."
I feel myself nodding like an idiot.  He's saying something about, keeping out of my way and pretending to barely know me.   All I hear is I'm here and I have your back. 
"Malia?"  He hands me another glass of champagne.   I see Nathan, some business associates and a few celebrities I'm acquainted with on the other side of the room with their dates.
I wonder how many of them flew straight from set and volunteered to be ignored just in case their significant other needed them. That's a husbandly thing to do.  Fly here.  Right?
He moves around the room talking to some industry people and I do my part to charm the CFO and CEOs we do business with. At some point we gravitate towards each other.
"I need some air.  Have you seen the gardens?"  We exit the ballroom and take the path that leads deeper into the gardens.  The minute we're out of sight, I launch myself at him fusinf my lips to his.
"Hi."  He whispers when we break apart.
"Hi."
"I-,"
"Shh."  I kiss him again.  "No more talking."
I've had four glasses of bubbly and I'm feeling it and a few other things too. 
He swaps our position pushing me against the stone wall.  The cement is cool against my back, in contrast to the heat of my flushed skin. 
For the first time in as long as I can remember, my brain is off and I'm allowing myself to feel and enjoy the moment. 
"Is your car close by?" He pants before melding his lips to the curve of my neck.
"Mm. Close enough."
"We should call him and get you home."
I slide his zipper down and hitch my leg around his waste. All the late night phone calls, the dinners, the flirting and kissing has led to this.  I've fought it as long as I could. I've been celibate too long. Even the thought of waiting sounds unbearably cruel.
"Malia, we."
I move my panties to the side and line him against me. Rubbing the head of his erection against my slit. "You want to wait? Or you want to do what you've been hinting at all along?"
"What am I going to do with you?" He groans. I hear the foil tear and bite my lip as he pushes past my opening slipping inside in a powerful stroke.
My body is so primed for this that I'm tightening around him already. My orgasm is only moments away.
"Fuck Malia. You're there already? How long has it been?"
"Too long." I moan. I grab whatever I can reach urging him deeper.
"I wish I had more time. I need more time." He's talking to himself but I understand how he feels. If I could bottle this moment or extend it I would. I bite down on my lip to stop my cries from carrying through the night air.
My eyes are closed and I bury my face in his neck as I shake against him. He muffles most of his own sounds through share force of will, though a well positioned fuck eeks through when voices drift from the balcony above us.