“I don’t like how they’re not predictable. Sometimes they’re sour … sometimes they’re mushy … sometimes they’re sweet. If they were the same every time, they’d be awesome.”
He tilts his head at me like a golden retriever, which I’m noticing is a thing he often does towards me.
“Strawberries though?”
“Well, I’m allergic to strawberries, so that’s different.”
“So different,” Colby replies with an eye roll. “Not all fruit though?”
“I love apples and bananas and pineapple and kiwi and grapes?—”
“I get it,” Colby interrupts me with a deep laugh.
I watch through narrowed eyes as he plates himself an over-easy egg and some bread to dip into it. A good selection of fruit covers his plate, but I’m not very surprised. Something about Colby screamshe takes care of himselfto me. Mostly because his body is still in amazing shape for a man his age.
He’s got abs, even though they’re not super defined, but he’s still got a magnificent body. Colby has the type of body built for strength, not for show. I really like his biceps. Every time he moves his arms, the muscles pop out, tight and firm. I bet he could hold me up for hours while he fucks me against a wall.
I sigh at the image that gives me.
“What?” Colby asks around a mouthful of food.
I wrinkle my nose. “Nothing.”
We eat the rest of breakfast in silence as the sun rises higher in the sky.
Not for the first time, I wonder why Colby felt the need to hire me. To hire a sex worker at all. I’ve done this enough to know that people have many different reasons. Some like sexa certain way and are afraid to have a relationship because of it. Some people like the dynamic of purchasing me, of knowing I can say no but it’ll be a hard-fought line to get there. Some people are shy and it’s the only way they can enjoy intimacy. Colby Smith is none of those things.
I help Colby clean up breakfast by rinsing the dishes once he washes them. The man still puts them in the dishwasher though, even after they’ve been thoroughly washed by us. Not worth commenting on because we’ve all got our quirks.
“Do you want to relax today or take another journey into town?” Colby asks as he watches me walk around the living room.
A white baby grand piano sits at the edge of the living room, facing the ocean. I wonder if Colby plays, but I mostly wonder if I can goad him into fucking me against the piano. Maybe I can scratch a few things off my sexual bucket list this week if I play my cards right.
“Whatever you want to do,” I tell him while trailing my fingers along the piano.
His eyes are heavy on me from across the room, so I decide to put on a show. In just my boxer briefs, with the soft morning sun streaming through the windows, I lean against the piano in the lewdest way possible.
“Eli,” Colby reprimands, voice husky.
“Yes?” I blink coyly at him over my shoulder, wiggling my ass a little in invitation.
Colby takes a step closer, but stops out of reach. “What do you want to do today?”
“You know, I have always wanted to get fucked against a piano. It’s veryPretty Womanof me, I think. My darling husband railing me against a piano sounds like the best way to start my day.”
Colby takes the last few steps to cross the room, stride purposeful and eyes boring into me. He presses against me, the solid line of his chest firm against my back. I hold back a moan at the feel of his hard cock against my ass. God, yes.
“Eli,” Colby whispers against my ear, hands tight against my hips. “Stop goading me on. We’re leaving the house today. I’ll fuck you however you want tonight, but you’ll have to wait.”
I let my head fall with a clunk against the piano as he steps away from me, taking his heat with him. The asshole just chuckles softly behind me.
“I like edging in the bedroom only. Are you going to edge me all day?” I ask, clearly irritated.
When I turn around, his eyes are heavy on me, running down my body like a caress.
“You’re a brat.”
I blink at him. “Do you like it?”
