The Dark Proposal Part 3

"Yes, I've noticed," Daniel sat up straighter. "Maybe I have been expecting too much, but I was hoping to be put on the list for a higher level course for the spring semester. But that didn't happen."

Claire nodded, listening to him carefully.

"That, as you can guess, did not please me. Laura told me it had to do with me only working nights,and not during the day. But there are other adjuncts who could only do night courses. So why am I not given the same chance?"

"Well, I think those other professors have more experience," she spoke as diplomatically as possible.

"But I have taught before. During and right after I got my PhD, I was teaching English at the public colleges here in Manhattan."

"Really?"

"Yes. But those colleges were not even giving me the 101 cla.s.ses. They instead gave me the remedial courses where I was teaching writing to those who couldn't put together a sentence for the life of them. It got so frustrating that I came to Richmond, where such courses don't exist. I was also told I would get a 200 level course eventually. But no, I have yet to get one."

"It's nepotism. Like you told me with freelancing, it depends on who you know and you shouldn't complain because that's life." Claire felt nervous after those words left her mouth. Guaranteed Daniel would be even more upset.

But he instead nodded slowly, still deep in thought. As he stayed silent for another minute, she quickly thought of something to say.

"Did you know Colin Willis at all?" She was a little surprised she said that, given the sadness that still hovered over the English department. But it was still worth bringing up.

He nodded, and blinked a few times to remove the faraway look in his eyes. He cleared his throat and straightened up. "I met him a few times. He was a good man, very friendly. Unbelievable what happened to him."

Claire gestured her sadness. "Yeah, he was my favorite professor. It was he who encouraged me to be a writer. Before, I wasn't so sure what I wanted to major in. But when I took one of his cla.s.ses, I was so inspired by him that I decided to major in English and be a freelancer once I graduated."

Daniel smiled faintly. "Its nice to hear a student, or former student at least, be inspired to write. I try to do the same with my students, but to no avail. However, it is hard to teach those who are only looking to fulfill a requirement. Would someone interested in computer science care about the beauty of writing? No, math and computers are their fields. Same with the nursing and biology students. That is why they couldn't care less about being great writers. They simply care about pa.s.sing the cla.s.s and moving on to what they really like."

It made sense to her because even she noticed it with the students coming into the department's office. English was to them what a mandatory math course was to her. "I like what you say about writing. You are so pa.s.sionate about it."

He smiled. "I've spent my whole life writing. I can't imagine doing anything else. Some people say I was born with a pen in my hand."

Claire laughed. "Same here. But few people understand that."

Daniel just looked at her. She could see the tension in his face was going away and was being replaced by contentment, as if he enjoyed her company.

"So, I got your emails telling me about how your week went. Tell me everything."

She gushed to Daniel about the two editors who accepted her pitches, and how meeting with one of them went. She did her best to tone down her excitement because she didn't want to seem too immature for him. He was older than her, after all.

When the waiter finally came by, Daniel switched gears and spoke to him in French. The waiter, who was French, seemed taken aback by Daniel's good command of the language and chatted with him. Claire sat there, amazed by her luck to be on a date with such a cultured person. But she felt a little left out too.

"Hey, parlez vous anglais?" she said in a heavy American accent.

The two looked at her and laughed gently together. She gave her order and the waiter took their menus and left.

"I'm sorry, Claire," Daniel said. "I just enjoy speaking in another language. It opens many doors to other worlds."

"Is that all you speak? Just English and French?"

"A little bit of Spanish and Italian. I can read some German as well."

"That reminds me, where do you come from?" she sat forward. "Your website says you went for your undergraduate and masters in England, but are you American born and raised?"

"Yes, I'm actually originally from Upper West Side. I was born and raised there."

"No way! Do you still have family here?"

"No. My father died when I was twelve, and my mother died a few years back. I was an only child."

"What about Australia? Why do you go there?"

"Like I said, I have family and friends there. A few cousins and former cla.s.smates. I go to Sydney to see them every summer."

From there, Claire and Daniel spent time getting to know each other on a personal level. While last week they had discussed their viewpoints of the world, they now talked about their worlds. She told him about her two roommates, how they met and how they struggle to make ends meet. She also told him about her family, growing up in a small New Jersey town, and why she never wanted to go back to such a quiet place. He told her mostly about going to school in England and studying for a semester in Paris. He also talked about his friends that live in New York, particularly a couple who live a few blocks from him in TriBeCa, and a trio who live in Brooklyn. "They're typical starving artists," he explained with a laugh. "They work odd jobs by day, and by night they either paint, do pottery or do their rock band. But they're good people; they're fun to be with."

By 9:30 PM, the two were stuffed from their French dinners and wine. Claire was not tipsy from the wine; she felt drunk with excitement over how the date was going. There were no awkward silences and everything flowed together like a river. She couldn't remember a date going this well before, not even with her previous boyfriends.

As Daniel ordered the check, he leaned forward and said, "It's been a great night. Do you want to go anywhere else after this?"

"I'd love to. Anywhere would be okay with me."

"Do you want to go to my place? It's about several blocks from here, if that's all right with you."

"Oh no. That's not a problem at all. I wouldn't mind."

"Okay." He smiled faintly. She saw no trace of demands, no smugness that he knew what could likely happen. He appeared to be quite gentlemanly.

Claire excused herself to the bathroom where she fixed her hair and applied lip gloss. She felt so weak in the knees, but at the same time, she was on fire. It made her realize Monica and Samantha had the right mindset all along. What was wrong with bending her rules after a night like this?

When she came back out, Daniel was signing his name on the receipt. She waited and when he stood up, he looked at her in the eyes and took her hand.

They walked out of the restaurant into the crowd that had reduced compared to earlier. Claire expected the both of them to walk directly to his apartment, but when they were a few feet out of the crowd, Daniel stopped and turned to her. "We can't start this way."

She frowned, but then she realized what was happening. Daniel leaned in and placed his soft lips against hers, and she responded. They stood there kissing in front of the French restaurant on a warm, breezy late summer night in New York. It was surreal, and she again wondered what she did to deserve such a beautiful, s.e.xy moment.

The kiss must have lasted a minute, maybe three minutes. Either way, it was the most delightful kiss she ever received. When they pulled away from each other, there was a smile in her eyes. For Daniel, there was a look of deep satisfaction.

They arrived at his apartment about fifteen minutes later. His place was in a simple building of only five stories, his being on the third. He told her he didn't exactly know his neighbors because everyone kept to themselves in the building.

When he opened the door to his home, she expected the place to be fully decorated with fine paintings, state of the art media and expensive furniture. But no, everything was quite simple. His place was a two bedroom with a kitchen one couldn't eat in, a dining room, a living room, and a full bathroom. Nothing too exciting, except for the second bedroom, which had stacks of books and folders piled on a desk and the floor around it. Claire recognized this spot was where Daniel had himself photographed for his website.

After showing her around, Daniel asked if she wanted any more wine, which she accepted. As he went to the refrigerator to get it, he told her she could put on his MP3 player and play whatever she wanted. As Claire scrolled through the player, she was telling herself to calm down. Never before had she slept with a man so soon, and part of her wondered if he thought she was easy. She told herself a sort of mantra that told her what she was doing was fine, and besides, she was in the mood as well.

She picked a soft rock band that she enjoyed and chose a song. After placing the MP3 player back on its dock, she sat down on the black leather couch which was opposite the media unit and right next to the door. She took note of the art work in the living room and adjacent dining room. There were about four paintings on the wall, and thankfully none of them were modern works, a type she despised. The funny thing was that these paintings were not prints; they were all originals, though she didn't recognize any of the artists. They were old and were actual works that Daniel must have bought himself, none of which she recognized. He certainly came from wealth in order to afford such old, authentic paintings, not to mention a home in TriBeCa.

He came out with the bottle of open wine. "Straight from Provence," he told her and placed it on the wooden coffee table in front of her. He then poured the red wine into two gla.s.ses and gave her one before he sat on the arm of the couch, right over her. They clinked their gla.s.ses together before sipping their drinks while looking right at each other.

"I was looking at your paintings," Claire said. "Who painted them? And are they authentic? They seem to be."

"Well." He didn't seem to know where to start. Finally, he said, "Yes, they are authentic, not copies. They're done by old friends of my parents, no one famous."

She raised her eyebrows and turned to look at the one above the couch. "Really? They look very old to me."

"No, they're not," Daniel said quickly. "I mean, they're only a few decades old, not centuries old. If that's old to you."

She looked back at him, giving a playful grin. "No, a few decades is not old to me. I'm not some shallow person, obviously."

"I didn't mean that," he muttered before sipping his wine. "So, I see you chose a band I like. Not too many young people like this sort of music, based on my students' tastes."

She shrugged. "I'm not like most young people. I always tend to be different from other people my age."

"I know. I see that," he said. "Does it make you lonely, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Well," she sighed. This was Daniel's most personal question yet and she didn't want to give too much away, despite them being moments away from physical intimacy. "My roommates put up with me and my...quirks if you will. We do like some of the same music, but my tastes in art, writing, and other things are not their interests. They tease me sometimes, mainly because they don't understand." She paused. "Sometimes it bugs me that they do that. We are friends, and have been for four years, but you'd think they'd grow up and accept what I like."

He nodded and she kept going. "Monica and Samantha say I can be boring because I like slow, quiet music besides other types and I enjoy going to art museums. They never even attempt to go check out local plays with me because that's not their thing. They tried it when we were students but got bored very quickly. Sometimes I wonder why I am friends with them if I have so little in common with them. But then again, there's so few who like what I like."

"Stop," he said quietly. "You got me."

Claire tried to smile, but she felt herself blush a little. How kindergarten of her! But her heart began thudding when Daniel ran his curled fingers against her red cheek so gently. She looked up at him, and slowly he leaned down and they began kissing. They parted to put their gla.s.ses on the coffee table after a few minutes before going back to dueling tongues and working up their pa.s.sion. It didn't take long before Daniel's hands were up the back of her s.h.i.+rt and he was taking off her top.

As soon as that was off, he quickly dove into her chest, kissing at the top part of each breast, as he began to unhook her bra. After unclasping it, he cupped her small yet firm b.r.e.a.s.t.s and began flicking his wicked tongue over each nipple. Her breathing was coming faster and harder, gasping for air as Daniel worked his way down to the top of her pants.

Realizing this was too one sided, she unb.u.t.toned his s.h.i.+rt, and was amazed by what was underneath. His chest and abs were perfectly cut with a fair amount of light brown hair going across his pectorals and going down past his pants. Claire eagerly ran her hands over him, followed by her lips as he gently held the sides of her face.

Just as she did before, Daniel stopped her right before she was about to undo his pants, and took over. He unzipped hers and slip his hand down the front before squeezing her most sensitive spots. She let out of a loud, pleasurable yelp and that gave him the initiation to remove both her pants and the thong underneath. She removed her shoes as he gently slid those two garments off, his wide eyes fixed on her.

There she was, lying completely naked in front of him. But this still was one sided. She sat up, grabbed his belt and unzipped his pants, pulling them down while looking into his eyes. They were s.h.i.+ning with l.u.s.t and yearning.

He was now naked, his meaty phallus ready to go. He positioned himself above her and she wrapped her left leg around his waist in order to absorb him. He dove into her and together they began to gasp in loud groans. Just like they had their conversations, their moans and motions flowed together perfectly. Claire felt comfortable enough to tell him to slow down so she could enjoy the ride, and he did. But when she couldn't take the gentleness any longer, he listened to her. As he slid in and out, he showed his skills by pinching one of her nipples and then circling a finger around her core. She let out rough and delightful cries as she grasped his back. He didn't seemed bothered that her nails were digging into him.

This was definitely the best s.e.x she was having. None of her previous partners cared for her like this, and she truly felt as if she was at the center of the universe.

Finally, Claire felt the spark in her lower back, and she came, crying out his name. The sounds of her pinnacle must have had an affect on him, because he followed soon after, gnas.h.i.+ng his teeth together. She collapsed against the soft arm of the couch as she heaved. Daniel held himself up above her. When he collected himself, he gave tender kisses on the side of her face and running his hand down her hair.

Taking a big gulp of air, she opened her eyes, whispering, "That was incredible."

"Yes, yes it was."

Pulling back to face him, she brushed a piece of his hair out of his damp face. "I guess this is the beginning?"

He smiled his faint smile. "I think this is just one of many such moments between us."

Grinning, she lifted her and they joined their lips just as before, only more delicately. They kissed as though forever was between them.

She felt a shake at her shoulder and she stirred. She was lying in Daniel's bed and it was morning, but Claire was confused. Despite being early in the day, there was very little light streaming from the thick curtains on the window.

Blinking, she looked up and saw Daniel sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed only in khakis and watching her. When she saw him she nearly gasped. His skin was so pale, he was literally glowing in the dark. Last night, he had more color to his skin. But now, he was back to his former self. What had happened?

"It's morning, about 9 AM. Better get dressed and go home."

"Oh," she managed to say. "I could stay longer if you want."

"I wish you could. But I've got a lot to do this morning. Writing, grading papers. It's not exactly what I call a date," he said as stood up and began going through his satchel. She sat there, watching him for a minute before getting up. She was still naked, and had left her clothes in the living room, where they'd first made love. She didn't want everything they experienced to end this way.

"Do you want me to make you breakfast? Or do you want to go grab coffee?"

"I'm sorry, Claire," he sighed and glanced back at her. "Last night was perfect and I enjoyed it. But I have a busy day ahead of me."

She was a bit taken aback his rush to get her out of his apartment. Was this the arrogance Nancy warned her about?

She walked out to the living room, found her clothes and put them back on. As she finished, he emerged from his bedroom, carrying some papers and checking messages on his phone. "I guess I'll see you later," she said as he set the papers on the dining table.

Putting his arm around her waist, he drew her near and kissed her forehead. "Sorry it has to end like this. I'm definitely not looking forward to this day, so much to do. But I'll call you? Do you want us to meet up again?"

"Another date?"

"Yes, I'd like that."

She felt a sense of relief. "Me too. I really enjoyed last night."

"Good, I'm glad."

They kissed and he removed his arm from her waist. That meant it was time for her to go. She glanced at the couch, absorbing all the memories of what took place there last night and turned for the door. He opened it for her, they kissed quickly good-bye, and she stepped out. As she left the building and headed for the subway, she hoped in her heart that she would experience what happened last night again and again.

CHAPTER THREE.

Claire tried tiptoeing into her apartment ninety minutes later, but it was pointless. The slight thud the door made after she closed it behind her lead to Samantha and Monica to come rus.h.i.+ng out of their bedroom, still in their pajamas.

"Look at you!" Samantha yelped as she and Monica grabbed and dragged her to the couch. "You spent the night with him! You gotta tell us everything!"

"I can't believe you did it, Claire!" Monica was saying over Samantha's excited screams. "Aren't you glad you pulled it off?"

Giggling, and feeling embarra.s.sed, she told her friends all about last night, from the dinner to when she woke up. Her elation built as she told Monica and Samantha more about the night. How the dinner was romantic, how much of a gentleman he was to her, how mind blowing the s.e.x was. After she finished telling them, the roommates high-fived and cheered for her. It had been a long time since she connected well with a guy, and this one seemed to outdo all the others.

As Claire went to change her clothes, she noted that she still had a silly smile on her face. She felt like a 12 year old again being this excited. But at the same time, why should she feel ashamed? She had a great night, great s.e.x, and a possible great relations.h.i.+p that was beginning. She had every right to have this smile. Although they only met each other three times, she felt there was a great chance for them to grow as a couple.

And grow they did. The Sunday afterward, Claire received a phone call from Daniel at about 2:30 PM while she was typing up the speed dating article. A story he had pitched was just accepted by an editor he knew well, and wanted to share that with her. They ended up talking for two hours, until her ears hurt from pressing the phone against them. But before they hung up, they made plans to see each other that Sat.u.r.day.

From that point on, the two were seeing each other either after he taught cla.s.ses on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday evenings or during the weekends. They went to lounges or pubs for a few drinks, went to comedy clubs, checked out some plays, both major and small. They did the things couples who shared the same interests would do.

In late-September, Daniel met Monica and Samantha. It was a Wednesday after one of his cla.s.ses and Samantha was bartending at the sports bar. He was polite and friendly to her two friends as the four of them hung out until the bar closed half past one. He headed home, after giving Claire a delightful but short kiss in front of the other girls.