New York Nights-Northern Lights #01

He gave me a warm and knowingly aware smile.

"Do what you always do when I'm not here. Write," he said with a knowing laugh.

Thinking that writing was my secret and that I secretly wrote whenever he was gone, he knew me so well. Only, in the way he said it, he said it as if my writing was unimportant and was more of a hobby than a career. Granted, I don't earn his kind of money but with writers a dime a dozen and a good geologist hard to come by, we work on different playing fields and are on different career paths.

I stared at his steamer trunk envious of all the places that trunk had been. I thought of smuggling myself in the trunk but with me not a contortionist, I'd never fit inside such a comparatively small trunk. Besides, I was too tall and my legs were too long to fit in his steamer trunk. Instead, I watched him pack envious that he was going to Alaska.

In the care he took packing his trunk, seemingly he prized his trunk more than he did me. I wondered where he got all of the stickers. They were so cool and so colorful. I wondered if he got the stickers at the gift shop or if custom agents applied the stickers to his trunk when going through customs. I wondered what the airline charged to transport a steamer trunk when they charged ridiculous amounts of money to carry a mere suitcase.

"How much is the airline charging to fly your trunk?"

I watched him pack his long underwear, his boots, his sweaters, his flannel shirts, his heavy jeans, and his long, down coat that had a real coyote hood, along with his gloves, hats, and scarves. He was taking everything but me.

"I'm not flying. I'm going by boat," he said matter of fact without even looking up at me and as if I should have known that he wasn't flying.

'By boat? Really? Seriously? Are you kidding me? I always wanted to take a cruise to Alaska,' I thought.

"You're going to Alaska by boat? A cruise? Wow! Cool," I said hinting for him to change his mind and take me with him. "I always wanted to take an Alaskan cruise."

He looked up at me with a face full of confusion.

"It's hardly a cruise, Baby," he said with a laugh.

He called me Baby again. Every time he called me Baby, he made me feel soft inside. Every time he called me Baby, he made me feel loved, wanted, and cherished but not enough to take me to Alaska with him. Every time he called me Baby, I wanted to strip myself naked, curl up in his arms, and have hot, sex with him.

"Still, I envy you lounging on deck watching the oceanic scenery go by as the boat cuts through the waves.

He looked up at me to make a face.

"Lounging?" He laughed. "There's no pool on board and I won't be playing shuffleboard, that's for sure," he said with another laugh. "Analyzing computer graphs and underground terrain, on the way there and analyzing results on the way home, I'll be working all the way there and all the way home."

I didn't earn a fraction of what he earned. Judging his salary from this expensive apartment, I could only imagine how much he made. I had no idea what he earned, but to be a geologist for Exxon and to afford this swanky address in New York, I figured he made low to mid-six figures while I made low five figures. Then again, if one of my novels made the best sellers' list, my income could conceivable jump to seven figures.

Sometimes I was uncomfortable with him paying for everything. Nonetheless, I needed to face reality that I needed his support to live here, a place with a doorman, a concierge, and a chauffeured car to take me wherever I wanted and needed to go. Hating to ask and embarrassed to ask, unable to survive here on my income without his financial support, with him leaving for a couple of months, I needed to confront the elephant in the room by asking the obvious question.

"What do I do for money while you're gone?"

### TallBlondeBustyBlueEyedBimbo ###

No longer feeling like his equal, I felt like a kept woman. Especially with him several years older than me, I felt more like his daughter than his girlfriend. The only place I felt superior to him was in bed while giving him hot sex.

Not married or engaged to him, he could leave me at any time in the way I could leave him too. Sadly, and noncommittedly, we had nothing more than an understanding to date one another exclusively. I hadn't gone steady since I was a teenager. It wasn't until recently in the heat of sexual passion when he was cumming in my mouth that he mindlessly, and hardly romantically, told me that he loved me. I was shocked as I hurried swallowed his cum to speak.

"Pardon? Sorry. What did you just say? My mouth was full and was too busy sucking your cock to correctly hear you. I thought you said you love me," I said suddenly having heart palpitations.

He looked down at me still on my knees and staring up at him with my big, blue eyes and with his hard cock still in my hand.

"You heard me correctly," he said. "I love you. I do. I love you," he said. "I love you."

I was shocked. I was stunned. I couldn't believe he finally said the L word.

'Oh, my god. Wow!'

Only, now he was leaving again and this time for two months. Two months without him would be quite the adjustment. Depending on my writing, two months could go by quickly or seem like forever.

"I left you my debit card and one of my credit cards to pay the rent, the utilities, food, and whatever else you may need while I'm gone," he said.

With a gentle touch of my cheek, he looked up at me and smiled away my sadness that he was leaving me for his job again. A bittersweet feeling, sometimes I wished that I had a job where I was important enough to travel. Even though I hated him leaving me, I enjoyed the alone time to write without interruptions. It was nice having complete access to not only the desktop but also the laptop without him under foot and in the way.

"Thank you. Now I can buy that new Mustang GT that I always wanted," I said with a laugh.

He didn't own a car and I couldn't afford a car. We took cabs, the subway, or the chauffeured car everywhere and wherever we needed to go.

"Why anyone would want a car in New York is beyond me," he said.

For someone who made so much money, material things were unimportant to him. Obviously, more than just a job to him, he wasn't working for the money. This was his career. He was more concerned with his work than he was with his wardrobe, with his income, or with all of the wonderful things he could buy with his money. With all of the traveling he did for work, even traveling during his vacation was unimportant to him. Understandably yet oddly enough, he treasured rocks and things he dug up from the Earth more than he did things made in China or anything that he could buy at Bloomingdale's, Bergdolf Goodman's, or Macy's.

Along the way, he had unearthed many valuable gemstones. Only, instead of selling them, he collected them and treasured them as if it was sacrilegious to sell them. He enjoyed showing everyone what diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, amethyst, citrine, topaz, peridot, and dozens of other precious and semi-precious gemstones looked like in the rough before being cleaned, cut, and polished. The interest that people showed in his gemstones made him proud.

An interesting man who was full of cerebral surprises, I never met anyone like him. I guess I loved him too, even though I had yet to say that I did. With him not saying that he loved me until I was on my knees sucking his cock and he was cumming in my mouth, that didn't seem like the right time to tell him that I loved him too.

'Sorry. My mouth was full and it would have been rude of me to tell you that I love you too while sucking your cock,' I imagined saying to him.

With him not pressuring me to tell him how I felt, he wasn't the romantic type anyway. Besides, it was the wrong time to tell him that I loved him when he was packing his steamer trunk to leave for me two months. Now, if he took me on a cruise to Alaska, with a cruise so romantic and going from New York nights to northern lights, as soon as I boarded the boat, I'd be telling him that I loved him too.

"It would be nice to have a car to drive to the country or to the shore," I said suddenly wishing I had a car.

He looked up at me to make a face. Especially with New York crowded with cabs and Uber, a step up from the subway when needing to go from one place to another, cars were just transportation to him. He definitely wasn't the car nut that I was, especially when it came to Mustangs. He was the type who'd rather ride a bicycle in the way he did around Harvard Square in Cambridge, Massachusetts when he was attending MIT. If he was to buy any car, it would probably a boring, Toyota Prius instead of a hot, Ford Mustang.

"You can always rent a car for that," he said.

'Maybe you can rent a car but I can't afford to rent a car,' I thought while thinking of which credit card I had that even had room enough to rent a car.

"That's true," I said not wanting him to feel bad about my poverty compared to his wealth.

As if he was thinking about something, our conversation suddenly waned before it stopped. Obviously, he was thinking about work again. Having learned not to interrupt his thoughts with my girlish foolishness, not wanting him to forget his thoughts, I remained quiet until he spoke again. Whereas I said whatever came to my mind, much in the way of Donald Trump, careful to word everything before speaking it, he was such a deep thinking and thoughtful man.

"I wanted to give you something before I left," he said surprising me when he fell to one knee. He pulled a box out from his trunk, opened it, and held it up to me. It was a sparkling diamond ring that looked to be about 3 carats. "I love you, Barbara. Will you marry me?"

'Oh, my God!'

My jaw dropped. I was in shock. He just proposed marriage to me. He told me he loved me. He called me Barbara. He never called me Barbara. I would have preferred he call me Barbie or Baby, especially at a time like this.

He asked me to marry him. I couldn't believe he asked me to marry him. Something we hadn't discussed and had never discussed, something out of the blue, I couldn't believe he wanted me to be his wife. I stared at him and at his ring.

'Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!'

I couldn't wait to call my mother and all of my friends. I couldn't wait to show everyone my diamond ring. Suddenly, I was thinking about buying a wedding dress, planning for a wedding, a church wedding, the reception, buying a house, and having babies.

"Yes," I said kissing him while staring at the ring. "I love you too," I said.

As if he was the bachelor on the TV show, The Bachelor, and I was The Bachelorette on that same series of TV shows, he returned my kiss.

"I love you," he said again.

To be continued...

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