Chapter 28Annie
Chapter 28
Annie
NOVEMBER | Balance: $49,382
I woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. Greg’s floppy skin was tucked into my belly, his head resting between my boobs. I pulled on a t-shirt and some tall socks from Nick’s drawer, did a quick once-over in the bathroom, and wandered out to the kitchen. Nick was at the stove, his brow furrowed as he focused on flipping an omelet.
“Morning.”
His face brightened right away. “Hey, you’re up. You sleep okay?”
I nodded. “Real heavy. Forgot to take off my makeup, though. My eyes feel all gross.”
He rested his spatula on the stove and opened his arms for a hug, kissing the top of my head. “Good thing they still look pretty.”
I tilted my head back to look at him at that angle, flashing him a bright smile. “You cooking?”
“Wasn’t going to send you home on an empty stomach. Greg would have my head.” He ran his hands over my shirt. “This is cozy. You should keep it.”
“Maybe I will.”
His fingers played with the hem, then grazed over my bare butt. “Wait a minute, Miss Markham. Are you not wearing any panties?”
I grinned up at him. “I dunno. Maybe.”
He breathed out a soft “fuck” as he traced the crease of my butt. His voice was a rumbly growl. “You’re telling me you’re wandering around my kitchen with a bare pussy?”
“You got something to say about it, Oberbeck?”
He filled his hands with my ass cheeks, thinking. “Yeah. Hands on the counter.”
I gaped at him, eyes shifting between his, a thrill going through me. He quirked an eyebrow. “You need me to tell you twice, Annabelle?”
I squeaked and did as he asked while he turned off the stove and plated the omelet. “What are you going to do to me?”
“Same thing I did last night, but this time, without looking. Sound good to you?”
My stomach jumped as he caged me in from behind, running his hands down my thighs. “Yep.”
Nick lifted the back of the shirt to look at my ass. “Fuck, Annie, you’re killing me with this.” His hands cupped my waist as his lips met my neck. “You’ll tell me if anything’s not working, yeah?”
“Of course.”
He hummed. “Good. Now tell me, Annabelle, did you come in here with a bare, wet pussy just hoping I’d play with you?”
One hand slid between my legs, a groan escaping him as he coated a finger in my slick. “God, yes you did. Such a good fucking girl.”
I leaned my head back into him. “Nick, where did you get this dirty talk? I love it.”
“I bet you do, because my golden girl likes being dirty,” he said, his fingers working slow, torturous circles over my clit. “I thought about you when I jacked off and thought about how I might talk to you. What might turn you on.”
My nipples tingled from that mental image, my body pressing back into his. He grazed my earlobe with his teeth before speaking again. “But I still have some questions.”
“Yeah?” I asked, overwhelmed by the combination of conversation and sensation from his fingers.
“You like being called a good girl? Or a slut?” he rasped out in my ear. Goosebumps flared down my arms.
“Both,” I whined, grinding my hips against his fingers. “Either. Nick, please.”
He gave a low chuckle. “I never imagined you’d be this needy, Annie.” His finger split me, sliding through my wetness. “Here I was thinking I was the one who needed you. But you’re just as bad of a slut for me.”
“Maybe we need each other,” I sighed.
I heard the smile as he breathed into my neck, his stubble scratching me. “I think you might be right about that, Annabelle. Does this feel good?”
His fingers moved faster around my clit, teasing me just right while his pajama-clad erection pressed into my ass. “Yeah,” was my whine.
“Can’t wait for the day I fill this little pussy with my cock.”
“You can do it now,” I blurted out.
Another raspy laugh. “Nah, you’re going to have to work for it.”
“Me? These are your lessons, Nick.” I gulped for air after getting out such a coherent sentence. I reached for his hand and moved it lower. He pressed two fingers at my entrance.
“This what you’re wanting, angel? Something to make you feel full?”
“Yes.”
His fingers rocked into me, devastatingly slowly. “Let’s see if I can do that little trick you taught me.”
His thumb flicked over my clit in rhythm with his fingers pumping in and out of me. I moaned out his name and added my own hip movements to his hand’s working. I reached behind me and shoved his pants and underwear down, moving his cock between my ass cheeks. I gave my hand a lick and rubbed it over his length.
Another low rumble from him. “I’ve got another idea.”
“Do it,” I said, no hesitation. I heard Nick spit, the moisture rolling down my ass crack as his cock spread it around.
“There. Now you don’t have to reach behind your back,” he said as he continued thrusting himself along my cheeks.
Was he as skilled as other lovers I’d had? Not exactly. But he got an A+ in the enthusiasm and creativity categories. And those are very hot categories.
“Both your hands,” I gasped. “One on my clit and one inside.”
He moved like I asked. “This it, baby?”
My fingers dug into his countertops, shoving my ass farther back as he slid his cock between my cheeks.
“Nick, now,” I whined, my legs starting to shake. “Don’t stop.”
He growled in my ear. “I’m about to come all over your ass.”
And that was what sealed the deal. I shouted, God only knows what, and went limp in his arms as he moaned out his own release, the wet spurts of it hitting my lower back.
“You were just so wet,” he breathed. “It’s so fucking hot, Annie.”
“I’m still shaking,” I laughed.
He wiped my shirt over the mess he made and turned me around, propping me on the counter so he could kiss me. Sweat beaded his brow and every part of me felt wrung out. He traced his thumbs over my pussy lips, shaking his head. “You know, I haven’t seen a ton of these, but I feel like yours is extra pretty.”
I grinned, blushing. “Thanks, bub. I’m fond of what you’ve got down there too.”
“Oh, thanks,” he said with a little smirk. “So slut or good girl, huh? The guys told me some girls are into that and I didn’t believe them. I was afraid I’d offend you.”
I shrugged. “Maybe that’s part of the appeal, the slight taboo of it. Or maybe it’s knowing you like what I’m doing, or celebrating my sexual side, not being ashamed of it.”
“You shouldn’t be ashamed. It’s beautiful,” he said into a kiss, then grinned against my lips. “You’re a good girl, Annie.”
“Well, you know you’re a good boy,” I teased.
I wanted to tell him more: that he made me feel cared for, that it wasn’t about his hands or his dick or his lips but more about him being the sweet guy he is, that I wished we didn’t have to keep our emotional distance.
Instead, I pulled him into a kiss, every stroke of my lips trying to make me forget that Nick was my client, that I shouldn’t be in his kitchen on a Sunday morning, that I shouldn’t be telling him how I feel or even having a feeling about it.
But care for each other is something friends exchange, right? I cared about Kitty, and Jessie, and everyone I’d left behind in Nashville.
Nick’s question as we broke the kiss brought me back to earth. “Did I pass, teacher?”
I patted his cheek as I said, “Yeah, bub. With flying colors.”
We were fulfilling physical needs. Nothing more.
But tell that to my hopeful heart crumbles.