Chapter 115
Ethan
The sun is already starting to set by the time I park in front of Tilda’s house.
I wanted to be here sooner, but I had to make a few stops.
First, home, to change into clean jeans and a T-shirt and to fill my backpack with spare clothes. Second, to get ingredients for dinner.
Through the windows, I can see another animated movie playing on the TV. And since the windows are open, I can hear loud music that doesn’t match the movie playing from inside the house.
I shift my grip on the grocery bag and knock on Tilda’s door.
She screams.
I shake my head. “Let me in.”
A moment passes. Then she speaks through the door. “Move to the side so I can see you.”
“Tilda.”
She doesn’t answer.
Rolling my eyes, I shuffle to the side.
She peeks her head around the window frame, then disappears.
Two seconds later, the door unlocks and she swings it open. “Hi.”
Her expression is so bright I swear it makes my heart glow. “Hi, Starlight.”
“What does that mean?” She asks it with such a big smile that I know she’s teasing me again.
“I’ll tell you later.” My voice comes out thick. “Now let me in, Wife.”
Tilda steps back, holding the door.
It’s not late, but she’s already wearing pajamas.
Her hair is down in wavy lavender curls. Her shirt is solid black but thin. And like the last one—like all of them since she doesn’t wear a bra to bed—I can see her nipples.
I lower my eyes, trailing them over her body and stopping on her feet.
On her socks. That go halfway up her calves and look like cat feet.
Fucking perfect.
I step into the house, then pull the door shut and lock it.
Tilda watches me take my backpack off and set it on the floor. Her lids are lowered, and her movements are a little slow. And she looks cute as fuck.
Tilda pinches at the sides of her shirt. “Are you staying?”
I can hear the hopefulness in her tone, and I know I made the right call packing.
“Yes.” I left my boots untied, so I kick them off and lift the grocery bag. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes.” Tilda nods. “Are you cooking?”
“Yes.” The corner of my mouth pulls up. “Are you high?”
“Yes.” Tilda snickers, and my smile lifts to a full one. “Are you high?”
“Not yet.” I step closer to my happy girl. “Do you like peanut sauce?”
“Yes.” Tilda says it slowly, with her eyes wide.
“Good. But before you sit down, I have one more question.”
“Yes?”
“What color panties are you wearing?”
She presses her teeth into her top lip as she reaches down to the hem of her nightshirt.
I think she’s going to show me.
My cock thinks she’s going to show me.
But she spins away, giving me her back, before she lifts the bottom of her shirt and looks.
Fuck me. Why was that hotter?
I use the hand not holding our dinner to adjust my cock as Tilda turns back around to face me.
“Black.” She shrugs. “I forgot I wanted to match.”
My eyes focus on her waist, and I debate the merits of blowing off dinner and dragging Tilda to bed. Just like I did last time.
“Who did you want to match for, Tilda?”
Her cheeks pinken as she tries not to smile. “Deerdra.”
A laugh grates out of me, and I shake my head. “Go sit down.”
Tilda turns, and I look across the living room at the damn deer head.
And smile at its new purple beaded necklace.
Tilda turns off the small speaker blaring music, then settles herself on one of the stools.
Taking over the kitchen, I unpack the groceries on the other side of the counter.
I start to tell her about the trail cam, but it quickly becomes apparent that she’s more intoxicated than I thought. So instead of talking cameras, I answer her thousand questions about what I’m cooking. When I learned to cook. How often I cook. What’s my favorite food.
I tell her noodles with rotisserie chicken and peanut sauce is one of my favorite things.
She says she wants to try that.
I remind her that’s what I’m making.
“Want one?” Tilda slides a small plastic container across the counter.
I pick it up, reading the label. “This what you had?”
She nods. “They’re good.”
I don’t know if she’s talking about the flavor or the effects. But… fuck it. I want to let go with my girl tonight.
I take off the lid and pull out one of the watermelon-flavored gummies.
Tilda grins when I put it in my mouth.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She doesn’t stop grinning. “I’m just really excited for this.”
“Good.”
“Do you want to put your pajamas on?”
I look at her chest, then back up at her. “Do you want me to put pajamas on?”
I don’t actually have pajamas, so I don’t know what I’ll do if she says yes. I just wore sleep pants at the cabin because it was our first time sleeping together. Normally I just wear my boxer briefs.
Tilda shrugs. “You don’t have to. I just changed before I took my edible because I didn’t want to forget how.”
“Forget how to do what?”
“Put pajamas on.” She says it so seriously.
I nod back just as seriously. “If I forget, you can help me.”
She agrees.
We go back to talking about food, and I plate us each a heaping pile of peanut noodles.
And as we eat and talk and smile, I feel my own lids lower.
I feel my body getting a little heavier.
And I feel so good having Tilda this close.
She tells me how delicious the noodles are. She tells me more about that baking show she likes. And… I feel like I’ve known her all my life.
I get up and put our dishes in the sink. She gets up to follow.
I face her. “Turn the music on.”
Tilda doesn’t question me. She just does it.
The speaker crackles to life.
I don’t recognize the music, but it doesn’t matter. It’s upbeat.
Feels good.
I grip Tilda’s hand and take her with me as I walk around, flipping off light switches.
The sun is nearly down, so the house is dark. But the glow of the TV flickers through the room.
With the lights off and the door locked, I walk us to the couch and sit in the center.
Tilda starts to sit beside me, but I stop her.
“Don’t sit there.” I grip the hem of my T-shirt and drag it up over my head. Bare from the waist up, I lean against the back cushion and undo my jeans. Then I smooth my hands down my thighs. “Sit on my lap.”
Tilda is moving toward me before I finish my command.
I grip her hips, turning her back to me, and help her lower onto my thighs.
I tug her back, until she’s snug against my front, then I roll my hips.
My cock is already hard. It’s been on alert since we walked in and found her looking so sweet and fuckable.
Tilda relaxes into my body, dropping her head back against my shoulder.
She’s so warm. So fucking soft.
My hands glide from her hips, up her sides, to her breasts.
So. Fucking. Soft.
I press my mouth to the side of her exposed throat and groan.
Tilda squirms, and I pluck at her nipples through her thin shirt, tweaking the little metal bars.
“Shit,” Tilda whispers.
I smile against her skin as I tug on her nipples just a little bit harder.
This time she moans and rocks her hips in my lap.
Matilda reaches up and sinks her fingers into my hair. “Ethan?” She practically pants my name.
“Yeah, Starlight?” My lips brush her skin with every movement.
She tightens her hold on my hair. “Are you my Good Boy?”
Heat spears through my body, and my balls squeeze.
I grit my teeth. “Fuck yes, I am.”
She rolls her head to the side and looks up into my eyes.
Her knees spread, and she hooks her feet around the outside of my legs.
Opening herself to me.
“Then touch me.”
My cock pulses, and I clench my stomach muscles.
I’m not coming in my pants tonight. But I’m getting my wife off at least once before I shove inside her.