What is it about Rylee Benson that gets under my skin so easily?
Shaking my head, I finish my shower and quickly get dry and dressed. My stomach rumbles as I make my way out of the gym and I decide to grab some food on my way back home.
Reaching my car, I slip in behind the wheel just as my phone buzzes in my pocket. When I dig it out and see that I’ve got a notification fromClickTease, my heart starts to race and I can’t stop the grin that curls my lips.
ClickTease: Hey, how’s your day going? Last night was a lot of fun.
I reply and we chat a bit, eventually playing the ‘In or Out’ game. She makes me laugh and my mood lifts further. It’s the exact opposite of how Rylee makes me feel - I’m at ease, having fun, with no hint or frustration or irritation anywhere inside me.
Still, whenever I try to picture what she might look like, the face I imagine looks a lot like Rylee’s and it’s irritating as hell. She’s just so beautiful, and it sucks so much!
I can’t stop thinking about the feel and taste of her. Whenever I try to fantasize aboutClickTease, I’m imagining driving into Rylee’s lush little body, her perfect pussy squeezing my cock while I fuck her until she’s screaming my name in pleasure.
It’s fucking aggravating. Eventually,ClickTeasesays she’s sleepy and going to take a nap and our conversation comes to an end. I sit back in my seat and release a breath, feeling lighter, but wishing we could continue talking. Still, I recognize she has a life outside of our messages.
I realize I’ve been sitting in my parked car for over twenty minutes, so I turn it on and pull out into the street to make my way back to the apartment.
It’s not until I’m walking through the front door that I realize I didn’t stop for food.
Damn it. I’m really hungry, too. I bought all those groceries, but I didn’t want to cook. Don’t really have a choice now.
A soft meow welcomes me and Gizmo rubs up against my leg. I grin down at the little furball. I like that he’s warmed up to me. As a kid, my family always had dogs, never cats, but he’s starting to grow on me.
“Hey, buddy,” I say, bending down and scratching him behind his ears. “Where’s your Mama?”
The apartment is quiet, and for a moment, I wonder if Rylee is actually here. Tiptoeing to the hallway, I peak down toward the bedroom door. It’s slightly cracked, and I can see light coming from the room, but I don’t hear anything. Still, if Gizmo’s roaming free, that means she’s likely here.
For a moment, I consider going and knocking on the door to offer some sort of apology for what happened in the park, but I think better of it. Instead, I turn back to the kitchen and head for the fridge. My stomach is still rumbling.
When I open the fridge door to look for something to make for lunch, I find a sandwich on a plate, covered in plastic wrap with a note that readsFor Zander.
I blink, staring at the sandwich and the note, written in neat and graceful handwriting. Did Rylee make this for me?
Wait, that’s a stupid question. Of course she did. Who else could have? Gizmo?
Is this a trick? Did she, like, lace it with laxatives or something?
Okay, I’m being ridiculous. Even she wouldn’t do something that crazy… I don’t think. Shrugging, I reach into the fridge to grab the plate, but I freeze when I hear a soft voice behind me.
“Hey, you’re back.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I find Rylee standing in the doorway to the hall, watching me with a hesitant expression.
“Hey… ” I murmur, standing up straight. “Yeah, I, uh, just got back. Went to the gym for a bit.”
“Oh, that’s… productive of you.” She nibbles her bottom lip and rubs her hand up and down her opposite arm. My eyes latch onto the movements and something in me heats up as I think about how soft her skin is, or how lush her mouth is.
Fuck! Stop it. I’m not going there. Not with her!
Not again.
“I, uh, wanted to apologize for earlier,” she suddenly says, surprising me. “I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that. It was uncalled for.”
I’m so taken aback by her unexpected apology that I don’t respond right away. She watches me, rubbing her arm harder until she finally moves to one of the cabinets and pulls out two shot glasses. Then she grabs a bottle of tequila.
Turning to me, she holds the glasses and bottles up. “Olive branch?”
I frown at the tequila, a bit taken aback that she went straight for that as part of her apology… and it’s still early afternoon.
