Heated

Cleo looked at the roses on her desk, and took in their sweet scent. They were from Oscar and she could not have been happier. From the moment that she saw him at Eliza’s for a party, she wanted him. She had always liked him to be honest, they had a brief moment at Bibi’s party when he looked at her—really looked at her even though he had met her several times before.

But that day, he looked a little dazed, and when she started talking to him he looked more engaged and that was all she needed. At Eliza’s last dinner party, he was even more engaged with her and they exchanged numbers—for work.

But Cleo knew as soon as she had his number that she was going to get him in some fashion. He asked her out shortly after—because she almost beat him on the head with her interest without even saying it, but it could not have been clearer.

On their first date they went to see a surrealist show at a small gallery that they both loved. It seemed even more surreal to her that she was with him. By a Kay Sage painting, they were almost pressed together and he kissed her. She braced herself against the wall, knocked the painting a little and a security guard ran over. Cleo was hot with embarrassment, she felt like the woman who had kissed a Twobley in France though she had not hurt the Sage painting at all.

Oscar took her aside in the dark hallway, and he kissed her again. His hands under her dress, Cleo almost melted like a piece that was part of the show that was an ode to Dalí’s Persistence of Memory. Her soft moans brought another security guard to come look after them, and she was hot with even more embarrassment.

Even hotter for Oscar, she went home with him. She had wanted that all along—she would have skipped the paintings. She had a Kay Sage at her apartment that her father had won at an auction once. It was in her bedroom, and the surrealism ruled as they made love.

Cleo took in the scent of the roses, and heated up all over.

More Wicked Wednesday here: