Oh God. He likes to watch. I love that. Love it more when he moves my hand down and I’m touching his cock as it pushes in and pulls out of me. Then I circle my clit and my back arches. It’s involuntary. Happens again when I do it a second time.
He’s watching, desire flaring in his eyes and heat washes my body. His cock twitches when I grip it as he slides out, use the moisture to lubricate my fingers and tease my clit.
“Oh God, Belle. You’re so fucking incredible.”
And then I can’t stop. I want to come. I want him to come. And I don’t care in which order it happens.
He thrusts hard and fast, deep. “Oh, Walker!” I cry out and clench my knees at his hips. I want him deep and then he is. He throws his head back and his back bows so his hands are bracing him on the bed behind his back.
When we finish and he moves back to his side of his bed which is opposite to the side he sleeps on in my bed, I smile at him. “A shower then breakfast?”
He nods. “Race ya!” And off he goes to the shower. I admire his stamina. But he’ll wait for me and it’s that kind of feminine power that slows my step as he starts the water and puts the temperature to mostly warm.
The shower is shorter and faster than the one we took earlier, but he washes my hair and I wash his back and this time, it isn’t about sex. This time it’s more intimate than sex. It’s still chock full of his kisses, and he still holds me from behind and kisses the side of my throat when I let the water beat down on me.
When we step out and dress, we walk out of his bedroom together. I’m still in last night’s white dress, but he’s in jeans that hug his ass like I want to, and they make his legs look longer. His T-shirt is black and tight enough I can see every single one of his ab muscles. Could count them.
He drives us to the bakery where we eat a dozen donuts between us. “I love the way you love food.” His smile makes my heart all aflutter.
“I do love food.” I cock an eyebrow. “Are all your other women salad eaters?”
He cocks an eyebrow. “All my other women?” His chuckle is short. Almost sharp and I regret the question. “It isn’t like I have a harem, Belle.” And just like that, I’ve ruined it.
“I’m sorry. I was only kidding.” My voice is soft and my coffee is sitting wrong in my belly. It’s starting a kerfuffle with the donuts and I don’t know which one is winning, but I can tell who isn’t and that’s me.
Immediately, he looked guilty, face drawn, lower lip pulled between his teeth and slipping slowing to its place as if he’s letting it slowly go.
There are about a thousand thoughts in my head. Mostly pointing out my stupidity. Calling me names.Amateur. Idiot.
And then he’s moved to the chair closest to me, has his finger under my chin. I can’t look at him. I don’t want to see goodbye where passion used to live in his eyes.
“Belle…”
I finally flip my gaze to meet his. And he smiled. Smiled. My guts unclenched.
“Belle, there is no haren. No other women. Not since I met you. Not since that night in the bar when you kissed me.” And I don’t care if it makes me a fool. I believe him. I smile and he kisses me. It’s one of those public appropriate kisses, one that won’t make the six-forty five breakfast crowd stare.
Anyway, we’re done so, he drives me home–to my place this time and walks me to the door. I want to ask him in, but he’s ready for work. Halfway out the door before he ever walked in. But that’s okay because if I invite him in, I’m going to want him to stay, and I haveappoints to show two houses today.
“I’ll text you later.” And he leans in, gives me another kiss that isn’t public appropriate, and I rethink my reasons for letting him leave. If he has to go, I’m sending him off with something to think about today. Because I’m going to be thinking of him rather than walk-in closets and bathrooms with whirlpool tubs and bedets.
I nod. “Okay.” And then I watch him walk away because that man has a walk that is worthy of being watched. When he climbs into his truck and waves then speeds off, I go into the house and shut the door. Cheddar is miffed, doesn’t come out until I shake his food bag–well, it’s the bag of food that he won’t eat because he is a soft-food kitty.
He slides between my ankles and wraps his tail around my calf. “I know. I’m a bad kitty mommy.” I pick him up and go to the cabinet where I keep his food and his treats. He gets a treat first then I open his food can and scoop it onto his special plate. It’s a hello kitty plate I’ve had since college didn’t work out and I came home and got a real estate license.
I take a ride on my exercise bike, not because I’m worried about last night’s baked potato and today’s donuts, but because I still have so much excess energy. Sex doesn’t always revitalize me, but today, I’m could power a city.
When the ride ends at five miles, I rinse off the sweat in a cool shower and change into work clothes–a pant suit with black slacks and a white silk blouse with a black jacket.
The houses I have to show today practically sell themselves. Great value for the price. And my business is all about location, location, location. These two places are on the right side of town and the buyers have the credit and the loan approvals for them. It’s an easy day, but the paperwork takes me the rest of the afternoon and it’s six-thirty before I can run out of the office.
I meet the girls at the PitStop. I’m having a good day. Boyfriend and multi-sale. For me, that’s unheard of. Before I walk inside, I fire off a text to Walker.
ME: Sold two houses today and I’m celebrating my new relationship status with my galpals. Phone sex around midnight?
I don’t wait for an answer and stuff my cell into my bag. I’ll check for an answer later. Tonight is about the girls and they’re waiting for me outside the front door.I get there with a couple minutes to spare.
But when we get inside, the place is crowded. There’s an evening race on the screen. A NASCAR makeup race. The screens are all tuned in and there’s a hum of engine coming from a few of the TV speakers, though they aren’t all on for once. Apparently, it isn’t as necessary to have the sound of the game for ambiance of a weeknight as it is on Saturday and Sunday.
