Saturday Night at the Ritz

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Olivia leaves her painful past behind.


Author’s Note

This is a continuation of Friday Night in the E.R. If you have not read that story yet, you’ll be missing out on how these characters met, and how their relationship began. (Hint: It’s the painful past that Olivia is leaving behind.) This is a much happier tale that picks up several months later.

Enjoy the story,
Wax Philosophic


The events and characters in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.


Saturday Night at the Ritz

I’m standing in the hotel bathroom, pinning my hair up in front of a mirror that dominates the entire wall above the marble vanity. The accommodations are quite luxurious, particularly when compared to what I’m used to at the dorm. And it’s got a shower that’s bigger than anything I’ve ever seen, separated only by a single, clear glass partition.

The longer I stand here, the more I get the impression that the placement of the extra-large mirror, directly parallel to the glass divider, might well have been intentional. “That’ll be fun tomorrow morning,” I think. “Maybe even later tonight.” My mind momentarily drifts into a vision of my body pressed against the glass, with my lover standing behind me, the two of us shrouded in steam.

I clear my head for the moment, long enough to finish fiddling with my hair, and turn toward the open door. “Hey — uh — could you zip me?”

My call is answered a moment later by Adriana, stepping behind me and wrapping her hands about my waist. She has her fingers splayed across my stomach as she’s pulling me in tight. “Olivia Myles, you are one gorgeous woman,” she whispers in my ear. “And you smell delicious.”

I smile and lean my head back to rest against her shoulder. This is exactly where I want to be, wrapped up in Adriana’s arms, safe and warm. Adriana’s been so good to me, so patient while I’ve taken my time to heal, and to find normal again. Tonight, I want to give her what it is we’ve both been waiting to explore. That final intimacy.

But not right now, not here in the bathroom.

“That doesn’t feel like zipping to me,” I say. In the mirror I can see her grinning. I place my hands on top of hers and move them back down, away from my breasts.

Adriana’s grin turns to a small pout.

“Oh, please,” I say. “It’s not like you won’t get plenty of that later. Can you at least wait ’til after dinner? I mean, I’ve already paid for it.”

After my remark, she zips me up very efficiently and spins me around for a quick peck on the lips.

“Thank you,” I say. “Just a little while longer and this — ” I strike a sultry pose, sweeping my hands down over the sides of my dress. “This is all yours. I promise.”

I get a smile and another little peck on the lips before she turns to go. I am also treated to a full view of Adriana’s amazing body encased in her black cocktail dress, her radiant hair flowing over bare shoulders. I tell her again how envious I am of her hair, how she never has to do anything other than brush it and it just looks gorgeous.

“There’s nothing I can do,” she hollers from beyond the door. “It won’t cooperate. Long and straight, that’s it.”

“And thick, and luxurious.”

I hear her let out an exaggerated sigh. “You sound like a shampoo commercial. Now finish up, so we can go.”

I take one final look in the mirror. I’m grinning from ear to ear. “Olivia Myles, you are one lucky woman,” I tell myself.

Slipping the hotel keycard into my clutch-bag alongside my phone, I can’t resist the temptation to check once again that it’s set to do not disturb, even though I know it already is. I’ve been waiting a long time for this evening, and I don’t want it interrupted by any of my friends drunk-texting me with their less-than-subtle words of encouragement.

I’m fidgeting with the clasp on my bag, and thinking back to our first attempt at this, over New Year’s Eve. It was a similar dinner, dance, and room for the night package, but Adriana had picked up the tab on that one. The evening was splendid, and we had even kissed at the stroke of midnight. It was after that when things sort of fell apart.

Though Adriana assures me to this day that she was not disappointed, I can’t imagine that holding your girlfriend while she sobs uncontrollably, is the way anyone would choose to ring in the new year.

“You ready sweetie?” I hear. I snap back to the present. She has her elbow extended toward me, so I answer by taking her arm and smiling up at her.

“Where’s your keycard?” I ask. “You know, in case we get separated.”

Adriana says nothing. She simply pulls her dress up on one side, just far enough to reveal the top of her thigh-high stocking, and the bit of plastic peeking out.

“Nice,” I say.

Now it’s her turn to grin.


Hand-in-hand, we enter the hotel dining room and wait to be seated. “Are you here for the Valentine’s festivities?” the Maitre otele gelen escort D’ asks. Adriana and I both nod, and we are shown to our table. I take a moment to soak in the ambiance — the perfectly pressed tablecloth, the soft lighting, the crackling fireplace — this is so far removed from dorm life that I feel like I’m in a different country.

I gaze at the beautiful woman by my side, still amazed that I could ever be so fortunate to have met someone like her, even if our relationship was borne out of difficult circumstances. Adriana places her hand on mine. I touch my finger to my cheek and brush aside the small tear that has formed there.

“A penny for your thoughts, dear.”

“It’s OK,” I answer. “I’m just — it’s all just so perfect right now.” I leave it at that, choosing not to share my concern that I’ll come unglued again like I did last time we tried this. Adriana squeezes my hand in hers, silently reassuring me that everything will indeed be alright. “Olivia Myles, you are one lucky woman,” I think to myself.

Dinner is good. It’s a limited choice, three-course affair, a little like restaurant week. But it is so much different than everyday, that it feels positively indulgent to me. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” I say to Adriana, as the dishes are finally being whisked away.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

The dance is held in the room next door. Meeting room by day, it’s been decorated with balloons and streamers and paper hearts, to transform it into a Cupid’s paradise. There’s a live band performing, with a small horn section even. It’s a nice touch and we’re treated to a variety of covers all the way from Marvin Gaye to Maroon 5.

“This is nice,” Adriana whispers, as we’re swaying to a down-tempo beat, feeling like the only two people in the room. I lay my head against her shoulder and show my agreement by squeezing her tight. I quickly find myself lost in her softness, her warmth, her scent. I never want to let her go.

But eventually I have to, because the lights come up as the band announces they’re taking a short break. “Be right back,” Adriana says, and runs off before I can even argue. I let it slide and take a chance on checking my messages. My friends have apparently been working overtime, sending me texts ranging from sweet words of encouragement, to downright lewd and crude instructions for the evening.

“Sorry to run off like that,” Adriana says.

I shrug, and show her my phone. Her eyes go wide. “They get more explicit,” I say.

“Then we’d better get some of the tame ones out of the way now.” She grins, and before I know it she dips me right there and then on the dancefloor, and has her lips firmly pressed to mine.

“Woo,” I say, catching my breath. She wraps her arms around me in a big hug, partly to steady me and partly, I think, to have an excuse to press her body against me. I don’t really mind either way.

The band is taking the stage again and I’m preparing myself to dance the night away. “Ladies and Gentlemen, is there an Olivia Myles in the audience? Olivia Myles, please make your way to the stage.” Upon hearing this, Adriana is positively beaming.

“You are so dead,” I say, but my smile betrays me. I trot up to the stage.

“We don’t usually do this, but your friend insists you’re really good,” the band leader says. “You got anything in mind?”

I think about that, as I silently curse Adriana for putting me in this situation. “How about Sweet Love by Anita Baker?” It’s the most romantic thing I can come up with on the spur of the moment. The band leader is apparently satisfied with my suggestion and after a quick relay of instructions, the group starts playing.

I look out into the crowd to find Adriana grinning. I try to give her the evil eye, but it’s not working. And actually, it’s kind of fun up here. The band is tight, and I’m really in my element. I wrap up the song to genuine applause and that energized feeling I get whenever I perform. I begin to wonder if that isn’t what Adriana was up to all along, to take my mind off the pressure I’d been putting on myself since New Year’s.

“I love hearing you sing.” Adriana is looking rather smug and self-satisfied as I rejoin her.

“I should make you suffer for that.” I try not to grin as I say it, but it isn’t working.

“But, you won’t.”

“No,” I say, “I won’t. Now let’s get out of here before I change my mind.”

That earns me a big smooch on the lips, and we stride off hand-in-hand.


We stand at the door to our room as I fiddle with the clasp on my purse. “Here, use mine,” Adriana says, as she places my hand on her knee, slowly dragging it upward along with her dress, until she’s damn near indecent. The pace of my breathing quickens as my fingertips glide along her silky stocking. It’s not until I come into contact with the hard plastic, that I realize what she’s up to.

“You know, in case we get separated,” she says, as I pluck the keycard from the top of her stocking.

“We’re balgat escort not going to get separated.” I push her back against the door, and press my lips into hers, while blindly trying to find the slot for the lock. I hear a distant giggling from down the hall, and assume that another couple is probably in the same predicament at this very moment.

Eventually, we tumble into the room, nearly crashing into the Champagne stand that is there waiting for us. “I don’t remember that being part of the package,” I mumble. I take a glance at the accompanying card.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” it reads, “Love, Mom & Dad.” Jeez, even my parents want us to get it on. I roll my eyes and hand Adriana the card.

“That’s sweet,” she says, while I struggle with the cork. “I like your parents.”

“Apparently, they still approve of you too.” That’s the only response I am allowed, since Adriana is busy trying to press her tongue between my lips. “Careful,” I manage to say.

Too late.

The cork chooses that moment to come unstuck, and we are both drenched in bubbly. I quickly make my way to the bathroom as I feel the cold liquid beginning to soak through my dress.

“I’ll bring the glasses,” Adriana giggles. Always the optimist.

“Unzip me, please?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” She’s grinning as she picks me up and plops my butt on the vanity. I’m already chilly from the spilled Champagne, and the cold marble isn’t doing anything to improve things. A shiver runs through me. “Oh, sweetie, let’s get you warmed up,” I hear.

Adriana turns around. I expect her to come back with a towel for me, but I hear the spray of water instead. “Oh my god, this thing’s digital,” she exclaims. “What temperature you want?”

“No idea. How about warmer than I am now?” I’m shaking. Adriana sees this and begins vigorously rubbing her hands over my arms and shoulders in an attempt to take away the goosebumps. I am amazed at her dexterity, because as she’s doing this warming dance, she manages to simultaneously undress herself, and me.

Kicking our discarded clothing aside, she picks me up off the vanity, placing my feet back on solid ground. I almost don’t want to get into the shower, it feels so good being right here — our bodies pressed together, Adriana’s warmth radiating onto me, into me. Finally, slowly, we enter the warm spray, two souls wrapped up as one.

Several minutes pass before any words are spoken. I let myself melt into Adriana’s arms as the warm water cascades over us. Little rivulets find their way through the tiny space between us, tickling my skin as they go. We press tighter, and the water changes course. I suck in a breath and shiver.

The cold has been banished, so that’s not the reason for my momentary shudder. It is entirely due to the overwhelming closeness I feel with this wonderful woman who has me wrapped up in her arms. With my finger, I trace the curve of her bicep. I take my time, drawing intricate little circles as I go. If any of this is a distraction for Adriana, she doesn’t mention it, instead she seems to be focused entirely on my lips.

Her kisses grow more passionate as we continue. Soon, I find myself throwing my head back, exposing the tender skin of my neck, so that she might explore it with the same vigor she is visiting on my lips. I moan softly as the warm water trickles down over my sensitive skin, followed a moment later by Adriana’s amazing tongue.

“I’ve been thinking about something since I first walked into this bathroom,” I confess, as Adriana continues her explorations.

Her tongue glides over my collarbone. “What’s that sweetie?” she asks, as she finishes tracing out the line of my throat.

I shudder, then regain my composure long enough to begin articulating my fantasy. “You and me in the shower.” I turn so that I am facing the glass divider. Without prompting Adriana takes up position behind me, one hand on my tummy, the other touching my cheek. “This,” I say. “You pressing me against the glass.”

“Yes,” she whispers. Adriana rakes her fingers across my stomach, and using her other hand, pulls my mouth closer to hers.

“In the mirror,” I say. “I want to watch you touch me.” That’s all I can get out before she has her mouth closed on mine. I feel the dance of tongues, as I moan and writhe against my lover in what feels like a warm, slippery dream.

“You’re so sexy when you’re all wet,” I hear whispered into my ear. Adriana has released my lips, and is now concentrating her efforts on nibbling my neck and shoulder. I have my hands pressed up on the glass divider, with my fingers spread. It’s partly to maintain my balance, but I also think it looks pretty hot as I watch the two of us in the mirror.

Adriana moans, and wraps her arms around my waist. I get the idea she’s enjoying the show as much as I am. I watch in the mirror as her hands explore my body, sliding across my tummy, cupping my breast, dipping down over my hip. I thrust my ass out, grinding against elvankent escort her, hoping to give unimpeded access to her hands.

She takes the hint, and the next thing I feel is Adriana cupping my sex. I begin trembling, and my knees go weak. “You OK with this?” she asks.

I’m not sure if she means the intimacy — the things we tried to do before, but failed at — or if she means doing it here in the shower, standing up. I decide to focus on the latter. “Mmm-hmm,” I respond, “but maybe on the bed? I feel like I’m gonna fall over.”

“Can’t have my girlfriend cracking her head on the tiles,” Adriana says, as she releases me. She reaches over to shut the water off. Holding me tight for a moment, Adriana steadies me, and I lose myself in her embrace. I feel I’m finally ready. I want to give her everything.

She reaches over to pluck a towel from the rack and spreads it over my shoulders. I feel her finger under my chin, as she lifts my gaze to meet hers. “I love you, Olivia,” she says. “No matter what.” I say nothing, responding only by letting myself melt into her. I think she understands.


I’m lying on the bed, looking up at Adriana’s half-lidded eyes, and at the bed sheet that is covering her head. We’ve made a little tent out of the sheet in an attempt to conserve body heat, since we’re both still damp from the shower. Though I get the idea that there will soon be heat to spare, as I feel Adriana’s fingernail tracing little patterns of varying intricacy over the skin of my chest.

I am heaving sighs, concentrating on her finger and it’s circuitous wandering up and down the length of me, as she explores. One minute she’s circling my nipple, grinning as she brings it to attention. The next minute, she’s swirling around my navel, closing in with each revolution, as if she’s caught in some kind of vortex.

“Don’t stop,” I whisper when I feel her finger leave my skin. Adriana says nothing, but I feel her pulling my nipple into her mouth, the one she teased to attention only moments ago. “I want you,” I say. “Inside me.”

Adriana rolls off her elbow and presses her body to mine, taking a moment to plant several kisses on my lips, chin, and cheek. She doesn’t seem too picky about where they land, and honestly, I don’t really mind either. I’m moaning and running my fingers over her back as encouragement.

I flinch a little as I feel Adriana putting more of her weight on me, and as her fingers brush the inside of my thigh. She’s gentle, and not that heavy, but I can’t help conjuring up the unpleasant images from my past, the ones where he has me pinned underneath him. I take a deep breath and try to relax.

I think Adriana senses my trepidation. She pauses momentarily and moves her hand away. “It’s OK,” I say, placing my hand on hers and moving her back to where she was. Then I notice something — something important — that breath I just drew, it smells of our lust and Adriana’s perfume, not his sweat and my fear. In that realization, I suddenly know I’m alright.

“Be sure to let me know if it’s not,” she says, and begins drawing circles again. I let out a long, languid sigh. I feel the tension in my body expelled along with the breath that I’d been holding. I realize now that I’ll be fine, that I can trust this woman I am with, and that she would never harm me.

I place my hand on hers and bring it up so that she is cupping my sex. I know I am ready for her. Surely she senses it too, as her fingers glide effortlessly over and between my soft, moist folds. With my other hand, I wrap my fingers in her hair and pull her mouth to mine. I slide my tongue between her lips, just as I feel her finger parting me.

I moan my acceptance of her, and my appreciation for her gentleness. I slowly move my hips under her touch, and squeeze against her finger, while I press my tongue deeper into her warm mouth. I feel Adriana answer my suggestion by probing a little deeper, a little firmer with her finger between my thighs. I continue offering encouragement with my tongue.

I search around until I find Adriana’s free hand. I take it in mine and squeeze. She responds by lacing her fingers between mine. I hold her hand to me, taking comfort in the touch, as my thighs begin to quiver. She has her finger in just the right spot now, and as if that weren’t enough, she’s got her thumb maneuvered around to give me an added thrill with each and every gentle thrust.

I’m still able to maintain a tenuous lip-lock on my girlfriend, but she’s quickly sending me to a realm that is beyond my ability to control. I want to press my tongue in deeper, to fill her mouth, letting her know how much I want her. Somehow, I can’t summon the proper coordination, and I just moan into her instead.

Regardless of my sudden loss of coherence, Adriana gets the idea of what I’m trying to tell her. She picks up the pace of her fingering, each thrust delivering simultaneous waves of pleasure, both from within and from without. I tilt my hips and arch my back in an effort to ensure the glorious sensations never cease.

There is a moaning sound filling the room. I’m pretty sure it’s me, but my mind is really somewhere else right now. All I’m able to focus on is Adriana, and the waves of pleasure that are building in my core, building from the expert touches of her hand, her hot breath on my neck. I start to quiver — no, shudder — as Adriana continues.

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