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2.8 Touch

As soon as Mr. Tomlinson's lips left mine, I felt feeble and empty because his kiss had been exquisite.

"Pearl, we have to go back inside now," he uttered. Mr. Tomlinson avoided my gaze.

I silently followed him back inside the house.

He had to make a few phone calls, and I quietly watched him. I studied his face because there was nothing else that was quite as interesting. His wider temple and the accented cheekbones led down to a smaller chin, formed a face of confidence and conviction.

But I had seen his doubts. I knew that his sea green eyes did not only convey self-reliance, but also concerns and insecurity.

When it got late, Mr. Tomlinson decided to spend the entire day with me. He even wanted to sleep in my room, to add a few extra points to Mrs. Tomlinson's jealousy.

We ate together and he made sure that his staff saw exactly what he wanted them to see - that he had an affair with an order.

Later that day we entered my room in the house.

Mr. Tomlinson closed the door behind him and surprisingly said, "Have I told you how beautiful you look today?"

He glanced at my new clothes.

"Not really, Mr. Tomlinson." I quickly added, "But you look handsome."

"Thanks a lot, Pearl."

So we sat and waited. His wife never came bursting through the door and asking for an explanation.

***

A week passed and Mr. Tomlinson's wife did not react at all. We planted a kiss on every famous plaza of the city and had paparazzi capture the moment, but nothing happened.

Every day we did the same thing, Mr. Tomlinson worked for a few hours while I read a book by his side, then I dressed up and he drove us to the next hot spot. Late at night his wife would return and she would not comment. Sometimes Mr. Tomlinson did not even return to his room at night, and his wife was still calm.

On my tenth day with the Tomlinsons, he had an idea. We were in Mr. Tomlinson's office.

"Pearl, you are not going to like it," he warned me. I put my book aside. "But we have to do it. The kisses are doing nothing. That was not how I planned it."

"What do you want to do?"

"We covered the first base, alright?" I nodded. We had done what they called French kissing. Publically. In front of cameras. For his wife. "Now we move to second base."

"I am not going to touch you, or let you touch me like that somewhere random in public," I exclaimed.

"Pearl Belle, I fear you have no choice," he said in a serious tone.

"Please, Mr. Tomlinson?"

"You do know that it is illegal to give people handjobs in public, right?" His face relaxed. Huh. He was only joking. "We are going to do it in the living room and hopefully, one of the useless staff will report it to my wife."

I nodded. The living room was better than a public plaza.

"Why did I not think of cheating on her earlier? If I had known that nobody cared, I would have become a cheating husband expert by now. Just imagine all the p.ussy I could have gotten over the years," he reminisced.

"Mr. Tomlinson, there is a reason for everything," I told him. "Maybe the universe did not want you to cheat."

I was wearing one of the skirts he had bought for me. We went into the living room and he laid me down on the couch. Mr. Tomlinson hovered above me.

"Just play along, yeah?" I nodded, fealing heated. We were doing this for one sole purpose, I kept reminding myself.

But when Mr. Tomlinson touched me underneath my skirt, I moaned smoothly. I was w.et for him and I slowly forgot all about the purpose.

It was just me and Mr. Tomlinson.