Just me, a flaming ball of satisfied nerves, connected to a man who’s so much more than I would’ve given him credit for a month ago.
I sag against his chest as the last tremors of my orgasm leave me.
He’s breathing hard, as if he doesn’t run five miles a day on the rugby pitch.
And when I should saythis was great, thanks, maybe we should do it again before I leave, instead, I bury my face into his neck.
And he flings an arm around me.
Holding me there.
Silently telling me that he doesn’t want me to leave either.
23
Fletcher
Goldie stepsout of my bathroom, still completely naked, and my tired, sore, overworked body whimpers.
I want more of that.
My dick’s on board. I like seeing Goldie naked in the doorway to my bathroom. She looks right against the marble floor and the clawfoot tub.
She’d look betterinthe clawfoot tub, but that’s not the most pressing issue.
“I should—” she starts, and my brain goes into overdrive.
“You haven’t said hi to Sweet Pea.”
She blinks at me.
Then at my dog, who’s slept in her bed by the door through all of the noise we made.
Naturally.
I got Sweet Pea the coziest, comfiest dogbed on the market.Icould sleep through anything if I was on a me-sized dog bed like that.
“She’s sleeping,” Goldie says.
Still totally naked.
Not attempting to cover any part of her.
I can feast my eyes on her breasts. Her pussy. Her long legs. Her collarbone. Her hips. That hummingbird tattoo that she’s been hiding on her shoulder blade that I could see if she turned a bit to her left.
“She’ll know you were here and she’ll think you don’t like her.”
I’m lounging on the bed, propped up by pillows and my padded headboard. Also completely naked and shameless and basking in the afterglow of sex. Too hot for even a sheet right now. And it wouldn’t take much for her to realize I’ll be ready for another go in under five minutes.
Goldie smiles at me.
Not a placating smile. Not agot you, I’m leaving anyway despite your lame attempts to get me to staysmirk.
But a real smile.
She crosses the short distance from the bathroom to the bed and takes a seat at the edge of it, giving me the tiniest glimpse of her tattoo again. “I should go.”
She’s trying to convince herself.
