Boyd
Queenie’s pussy tasted like heaven and judging by the sweet song she sang, she loved his tongue. Women usually pulled away, but Queenie spread her legs and lifted her ass for him. He licked her clean, not one drop of their cum wasted.
Only once he was satisfied did he come back up for air, placing open-mouthed kisses along her spine until he reached her ear. “Would you like me to give you some privacy? I can fetch your clothes.”
She turned beneath him, claiming his lips in a gentle kiss. He hummed and fell into the embrace, only to pull back once the taste of salt hit his mouth. Queenie ducked away, trying to hide the tears. “I’m sorry.”
Holding his weight on one elbow, he cupped her cheek and rested his forehead against hers. “Don’t be. Would you like to talk about it? Did something upset you?”
“Nothing upset me,” she whispered. “I enjoyed it.”
Ah, that was it: she was overwhelmed. From what he’d gathered, this was the first time she’d ever felt comfortable enough with a man to reach a climax.
He shifted the pair of them so he could hold her against his chest. With his fingers combing through her sweat-dampened hair, he did his best to soothe her.
“Shh,” he hushed. “It’s okay.”
“I’m so sorry. I’m ruining it.”
“No, you’re not. You’re overstimulated. It’s okay. It’s a lot to take in.”
“You’re so thoughtful and understanding.” He wasn’t sure if that was an accusation or not.
Maybe she’d expected that bullying ran in the family. It was most likely messing with her mind that Luka’s behaviour didn’t come from his father. With that thought, Boyd held her tighter and kissed her hair, hoping the small gestures eased her discomfort.
After a while, Queenie seemed to have dozed off.
Boyd wasn’t upset by it. He closed his eyes as well, soaking up the moment.
From the second he’d seen her walk into the bar, he’d hoped this would happen.
Though he hadn’t expected it to be so intense.
That wasn’t a bad thing. He’d contemplated on going back and giving her his number. Now, he was glad he had.
She stirred again and when he opened his eyes, he found himself drowning in her soft brown orbs. Her cheeks were flushed, irritated from her salty tears, but she seemed more grounded.
“Better?” he asked, pushing a wild strand of her hair from her forehead.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Do you want me to fetch you some water?”
“That would be nice.”
He leaned down, stamping another kiss to her forehead before rolling out of bed and slipping on a pair of briefs.
When he returned to the bedroom, his heart nearly leapt out of his chest. Queenie sat on the bed, wearing nothing but his shirt.
It was the most precious sight he’d ever seen.
He handed her the water bottle, immediately chastising himself for not twisting the cap for her.
That was, until Queenie did it herself. She tucked the bottle in her left arm, cracking it open with her hand.
Then Boyd was kicking himself for doubting her to begin with.
He placed her clothes on the bed, sitting down next to her. “You okay?”
“Yes. You?”
An uncharacteristic heat swept over Boyd’s cheeks. Was he blushing ? God, he was. “Definitely.”
“My reaction wasn’t about being upset with anything that happened. Not in a bad way.”
“I thought as much. I just want you to know it’s okay to say if there was something that you were uncomfortable with. Even if you don’t realise it until after the fact.”
“There isn’t a thing.” The conversation lulled. Queenie replaced the cap on the bottle and looked back at him, seemingly unsure of what to do next. “What now?” she voiced.
“That’s up to you. You can get dressed and walk out of here. Or you can stay and maybe have lunch with me.”
Her gaze drifted to the large windows, and Boyd could almost see the emotions warring behind those bright eyes. “I’m not sure. I didn’t wake up with a plan. I definitely didn’t think I would end up here.”
“Do you think you’ll regret it tomorrow?”
Queenie smiled, her eyes narrowing from her cheeks being pushed up—it was fucking adorable. “No.”
Boyd fought the urge to sigh in relief. “I won’t either.”
“I think I’ll take you up on that lunch offer. ”
The grin that curled his lips was entirely involuntary.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He stood from the bed, picked up his jeans, and walked out the room.
In the kitchen, he started to pull out ingredients for a pasta bowl.
He had thought about taking her out, but he wasn’t ready to share her—selfishly.
He wanted her undivided attention. Cooking for someone was far more intimate than sitting at a stuffy restaurant with food that was way too expensive for what it was.
Queenie appeared in the room, commanding his attention. “You’re going to cook?”
“Why do you sound so sceptical?” He turned and saw her handing him his shirt.
He took it, lifting her onto the island in one swift move.
There was no way he’d be responsible for getting that pretty dress dirty.
“I was told I’m a great cook. But if it doesn’t meet your standards, I’ll make up to it by taking you out to dinner. ”
Queenie reached out for him, slowly fastening each button on his shirt. He tried not to watch in awe as her delicate fingers closed them up. He was impressed. Even he couldn’t manage to dress with one hand. Then again, he’d never had to. “That sounds like a set up.”
Boyd peered down at her. “How so?”
Queenie secured the last button, smoothing the fabric down with her hand. “Well, if you mess it up on purpose you’ll know if I’m pretending to like it so I don’t have to go out with you.”
“I was actually hoping you’d be honest and tell me if I’m a shitty cook.”
“You could just ask me out, you know?”
He twisted a strand of her blonde hair around his finger, drowning in the knowledge he was the reason for her flushed cheeks. “What do you do for a living?”
“Guess.”
With a crooked brow, he let his gaze drift over her as if he would find a visible clue. “I feel like you are trying to trick me. Can I ask questions?”
“You may.”
“Something to do with business?”
She grinned, popping open the final button she’d just fastened, letting his necklace and the top of his chest tease through. “No.”
He turned to the stove and lit the burner. “You seem like a bubbly person. Is it something social?”
“Bubbly, huh?”
“Don’t try to throw me off, Queenie,” he scolded.
“Damn, you’re too sharp for me.” After an intoxicating laugh, she added, “Yes, it’s social.”
“Do you work with children?”
“Kind of.”
“Teenagers?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Teacher?”
“Nope.”
There was a lilt to her voice that meant Boyd was close. He ran down a list of jobs in his head that could involve teenagers. “A nurse?”
“No.”
The chicken sizzled in the pan, and Boyd added a box of pasta to the now boiling water. “But do you work at a school?”
He glanced over his shoulder, heart skipping a beat at her playful grin. She was clearly enjoying this. She nodded.
After pondering a little while more, he admitted his defeat, “You got me.”
“Social worker,” Queenie confessed.
“Do you enjoy it?”
“It takes a toll, but yes I enjoy it. What do you do?”
“I own a marketing company and real estate.”
“Fancy pants. Has that always been your dream?”
“Owning my own real estate, yes, but the marketing company became one over the years.”
“Because you wanted to be your own boss?”
“That’s right.”
“I don’t think I would be cut out for that. So much would be on the line. I mean, I can manage myself, but being in control of so many other lives… that would be maddening.”
“It can be challenging.” He turned and only now realised that he hadn’t offered her a beverage. “Would you like to drink something?”
“What do you have?”
“Soda, orange juice, lemonade…” Taking a chance, he added, “Wine?”
Queenie didn’t take the bait. “Tempting but I’ll need to drive later. So, I’ll take the lemonade.”
“Ice?”
“Yes, please.”
Boyd took to making her drink, desperate to get to know this gorgeous woman more. “What is the most challenging about your job?”
“The parents,” she shot out, as if she had the answer ready. “Well not all of them, but a lot. Sometimes they think they have perfect children. It makes advocating for the educators a lot harder.”
“Do you often have to negotiate between parents and teachers?”
“Quite often lately.”
He wanted to ask why she’d chosen her career, but something told him he might not like the answer. They’d been perfectly fine not dredging up the past. He didn’t want to ruin that.
“Can I ask you something?”
Sensing it was important, he gave Queenie his undivided attention. “Of course.”
“Are you and Luka close?” Well, there went that idea.
“No,” he admitted, scrubbing a hand over his face and trying to think of how to voice his thoughts without sounding like a jerk. “We still speak, but it’s more of a monthly check in to see if we are still alive.”
“Why is that?” Seeming to second guess herself, Queenie dropped her gaze to her lap. “You don’t have to talk about it.”
“I don’t mind.” Boyd returned to their meal, trying to keep the conversation short and sweet. He didn’t need to bore her with the details. “He doesn’t believe that my parenting is fair. He thought he was entitled to money because I had it, and I refused.”
“Why does that make me happy?”
Boyd’s heart swelled. He’d always appreciated an honest woman. “Because you dislike him.”
“So, you cut him off from the money?”
“Partially. I offered to cover his college tuition under the condition that he live here and help with the bills. Then he told me about his plans of moving out of state, and he was rather shocked to find out that I wouldn’t fund any of his housing or partying lifestyle. The end choice was up to him. ”
“Why did you decide to do that?”