I love her dark humor.
TheBigO: Slay me, baby.
RacingQueen: I showed you my tools of destruction. Your turn.
With a sigh of relief, I free my stiff cock from the tight confines of my Wranglers into the cool winter sun. I’m already leaking just thinking about what I’m going to do to her when I see her in Tacoma.
Leaving myself covered with just my gray boxer-briefs, I make sure to angle the camera lens to get the damp spot over the head of my dick.
TheBigO: This is what you do to me.
RacingQueen: I can kiss it to make it better.
How much longer until she gives in and admits to me how she feels?
That she really is mine.
Except I’m not sure I’m ready to reveal myself quite yet. Not until she doesn’t hate me asOliver.
The only headway I’ve made there is that she doesn’t visibly scowl at me every single time she sees me.
Until there isn’t such a huge divide, I don’t know if it’s safe to show her.
No matter how badly I want it.
“Mason? We’re just about ready for paint in the first two rooms. Did you have your colors picked yet? I need to know today since I’ll be gone until Monday.” I wave my hand idly over the array of color cards spread over the plywood table.
“I gotta get back to you on that one.” He nods towards the closest door. “Sophia hasn’t decided. The other, either of these is fine.” Pointing at the eggshell white sample sheet, shuffles the rest into a sort of rainbow swath, then pulls out his phone.
“Soph? You need to make a decision on what color your room will be.” He pauses, giving me a sad smirk. “Yes, now. Come over and pick.”
My pulse rapid fires while he ends the call.
She’s coming here.
Every time I see her, it’s getting harder to resist the urge to pin her to the wall and kiss her.
Tomorrow morning we’ll both have to leave for Tacoma. Then I’ll get to taste her again.
He moves towards the kitchen and pulls a Coke out of the fridge, then gestures it towards me. “You’re on the same rodeo circuit as her? For the most part?”
“Yes, sir.” I think he’s probably ten years my senior, but it’s more out of respect. “I’m on the roping team, my brother does bull-dogging too.”
Mason’s cheek lifts as he tosses me a soda. “Hell of a lot of fun. I did a summer or two when I was younger.” His arm raises in a wide circle. “It’s rough on the shoulders,” he chuckles, then pops his drink open. “I get my kicks wrangling kids nowadays.”
The door bursts open with a bluster of snow, announcing a very well wrapped Sophia into the building.
“Dad, I told you this isn’t a big deal. It’s not like I’ll be living here forever.” Her bright blue eyes roll, then narrow when they land on me.
Is she saying what I think she’s saying?
“Moving out soon?” I’m fighting a smile as if my life depends on it.
She has a better poker face than I do. All she does is shrug and focus on the table.
“Never know,” she mutters, peering at the cards.
Mason leans against the corner nursing his drink with a frown tugging down his lips. “Did you pack the tire chains in the truck?”
