“Well, not really,” I lie. “I think they’re over. It didn’t really work out.”Because I’m theonlywoman for him.
She grins widely.“Well, you hurry and go home. Get yourself some good Paris sex.”
I laugh out loud. “Okay, Mom. If you insist.”
I text Oscar back.
Do not go anywhere. I’m coming.
His reply is instant.Oh, you’ll be coming all right, if I have anything to say about it.
I shake my head,a goofy grin plastered on my face.
My phone pings, and I’m expecting another slightly inappropriate text from Oscar. I’m surprised when I see Matt’s name.
You still owe me another date.
I’m not too sure what to reply, but I know I need to say something. I just can’t leave the man hanging.
Yes…I reply.
—
I want to take you to this cool bar I know tomorrow night. I’m with my dad tonight… he’s a mess.
As he should be. Pervy bastard.
Ok,I write back, not quite knowing what else to say. A night at a bar doesn’t sound especially romantic. I can let him down gently there. He can drown his sorrows in beer. That is if he actually cares enough to be sorrowed.
Sounds great. I’ll fill u in on the deets tmrw.
I hate it when people use the word ‘deets’. I made the right decision — this would have never worked out.
* * *
When I get backto the apartment, it’s a mess. Corrie’s stuff is all over the place, but she’s nowhere to be seen. I tiptoe to our room and find Oscar stretched out on the bed, completely naked with a huge erection. He loves to greet me this way, and I can’t complain.
I bite my lip. “Ijustgot here. How did you get hard so fast?”
His grin is impish. “What can I say, it’s a skill,” he tells me proudly. “I’ve been teasing myself, waiting for you.”
His hand is wrapped around his hard-on, and it makes me want him. I dive onto the bed eagerly.
“Not so fast,” he says. “Get off the bed.”
I slide back off the mattress, confused. “What?”
He smiles. “I want you to strip for me. I want to see every inch of you before I have you,” he says, still stroking himself. “I wanted to fuck you so badly last night. I’ve been dreaming of your pussy all day, baby.” The sight of him is hot, and so are the filthy words coming out of his beautiful mouth.
I smile. I want to play. I’ve got about a million items of clothing on. I start with the woolen hat. I pull it off my head and flick it at him. He grins playfully. Next, I work on the scarf wrapped around my neck, untangling it slowly and letting it fall to the floor. I then reach low and pull off my chunky ankle boots. I still have my jacket on.
He runs a hand through his thick hair, the other still wrapped around his cock. “You’re being cruel… this is painful. Speed it up, baby.”
I don’t speed it up. I tease. This is a game of anticipation, a slow dance. His eyes never leave mine as I slowly slide down the zipper of my jacket and throw it to the floor. I reach my arms around myself and pull off my sweater.
He chews at his bottom lip. “I love that bra,” he says, his words edged with a groan. “But I want it off. Show me those gorgeous tits of yours.”
I trace a finger along the laced edge of my silky red brassiere. I’m wearing the matching panties. This was planned, of course. I knew we’d be making love today.
I reach behind my back, and toy with the button and zipper of my skirt. I quickly get the skirt off — I’m getting eager. I remind myself to slow it down again, to not get swept away by lust.
“You’re killing me,” he moans.
I smile down at him. “The best things come to those who wait.”
