“I don’t give a shit. If they don’t think it, they’re stupid. And who cares? Because it means more for me. All mine,” he says, his voice gruff and rumbly.
His body is on mine, skin to skin. His length is right where I want it to slip in, and I whisper, “I’m on the pill.”
“Yeah?” He eyes me with one eyebrow raised.
“Oh yeah.” And then I flip him. Well, not really, but he goes willingly.
He thinks I want to be on top, but I want to return his favor from earlier. He situates himself on the pillow and I slide down his body, my mouth taking its time, kissing and tasting. His chest and abs are rock hard, and I don’t even know what god bestowed this gift of a man to me.
When I reach his groin, he’s ready and I’m willing.
Taking my time, I use my tongue to trace his length and explore his velvety softness. It’s like how they describe in romance novels. Perfect.
He groans my name, and when I use my whole mouth to take him in, he groans even louder.
“Shhh.” I break away, and he promises he’ll be quiet. We have to remember Gabby is down the hall. Yeah, she’s asleep, but she could appear with no notice. Although, I’m too distracted to let it bother me.
I spend some time, speeding up, taking him deeper, and then I’m yanked up and flipped over faster than I can even understand what’s happening.
“Need inside you,” he breathes.
I nod and he takes his time, guiding himself slowly, like he doesn’t want to miss anything. I know I don’t. He sinks deep and pulls out, a long stroke, each inch marking a second of ecstasy.
My hands slide up and down his back, feeling each curve, every sculpted muscle, until they scratch their way up to his shoulders.
“Reid,” I say softly. “Faster.”
He continues to go slow, and even though I want it harder and rougher, each movement is delicious. I crack my eyes open and watch his abs ripple.
When he eventually speeds up, my nails rake up and down his back, leaving marks in their wake. I’ve never been this ravenous for a man.
And this one cooks!I make a little joke in my head as self-preservation. I’m getting in too deep with this guy, and my heart needs protection and care.
We both hit a high point and moan in unison. I’m at that place where I can’t take any more and I never want it to end. It’s a strange dichotomy, but I like it. I don’t want to change it. I’m in control, but helpless too.
Reid pulls out and slams into me, and I come apart. It sounds so dominant, but I love it. He’s doing all the thinking, which is a luxury for a single mom.
As I come down, Reid speeds up until he’s jelly, coming down from his own climax. We stay connected for a long while afterward. He’s on top of me, holding his weight on his arm, and gazing into my eyes. I almost think he can see the truth, but he can’t. We’re in our own little bubble.
For a second, time is on our side. A reality for Reid and a bubble of lies for me.
It’s late when we finally come down from our haze and Reid leaves, knowing he needs to sleep and he can’t do that here with Gabby.
We kiss at the door, and when he pulls away, I don’t want to let him go. He promises to get Greg’s friend Reilly situated as soon as he returns from Orlando, and then he heads into the dark night.
When the door clicks shut, my heart feels heavy with doom. There is no happy ending here.
Something’s off with Andi when I leave. Her brow furrows and she holds my hand with a deathlike grip. Guilt tickles my spine—maybe it’s because of my recent hectic schedule? Does she think I don’t want this? Us? Because I do.
Turning the engine over in the Jeep, I’m half tempted to run back up to her place and ask if I can spend the night. I’ll promise to leave before Gabby wakes. But I already pushed too hard about the Disney trip. In my heart, I know we’re a long way off from sleepovers with Gabby there.
Driving home, I tick off all the shit I have to do. Get Reilly up to speed, tie up all my loose ends, and prepare for next year. Of course, I’ll be doing some bullshit research project on the correlation ofxandy, etc. But I’m really growingGrill and Groom. I have plans ...
Restless when I get home, I flip open my laptop and get caught up on UAB. It’s been a few days since I’ve had time to play on the internet.
There’s a funny post on horseback riding lessons and GoFundMe, and then this.
Dear Wall Street Wife,
