Chapter Thirty-Six
I’ve seen Elise this week at practices and games. I’ve seen a whole lot of her, actually, but not in the way I prefer .
Now that I’ve had her? She’s all my dick seems to want. No matter how hard I try, my hand just isn’t doing anything to calm the raging, horny beast within me.
It’s unnerving, and I feel like a fucking teenager all over again, not a grown-ass thirty-two-year-old man.
We haven’t had any time this week to get together, and it’s driving me wild.
Neither of us has practice today, and I had a game earlier, so I’m free the rest of the night. With any luck, she’ll want to come over.
I take out my phone, ready to snap a dick pic, but remember she said no weird angles. What the fuck does that even mean?
I think my dick and I will have to take our chances. I grip the base and smirk as I snap a couple of pictures, attaching all of them to our unused message thread.
Jokes on you, sunshine. My dick looks good from every angle.
Sunshine
While your D does look rather sunny, I can’t say it’s enough to lose my pants over.
I scoff, rolling my eyes at my phone.
Why don’t you come over here and I can fix that?
Sunshine
We’re debating whether your dick is picture-esque, not whether it’s quality in the sack.
We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you weren’t.
Jesus Christ woman, could you get over here and put me out of my misery?
Sunshine
Ask nicely.
A groan slips past my lips, and I shake my head, blowing out a breath.
Will you please come over and put me out of my misery?
Sunshine
Not nice enough. Try again.
Will you please come over so I don’t get any more calluses?
Sunshine
Please explain how that was nicer than the last message? You get one more try or I’m fulfilling my needs elsewhere.
My nostrils flare involuntarily as images flash through my mind of Elise with another man. Absolutely-fucking-not.
Sunshine, will you please come over to my place so I can please that gorgeous pussy of yours, and bow at your feet? It would be my honour.
Sunshine
Apology and pleading accepted. I’ll be over soon. Send me your address.
And here’s a little something as a reward for being such a good boy.
A photo comes through, the little circle spinning to tell me it’s loading, and I’m becoming more and more antsy as the seconds tick by.
When the photo loads, my cock throbs and I have to pinch my eyes shut, unsure of how I’ll ever recover knowing I now have a photo of Elise’s dripping cunt beneath the skirt of her faux leather mini dress on my phone.
I may form a porn addiction to this single photo, and I’ve never been so elated to be someone’s good boy.
Thirty minutes later, Elise appears on my doorstep in said mini dress. Her blue eyes look stormy, and her dark hair is piled high on her head, with tendrils framing her creamy, heart-shaped face beautifully.
“Hey, there,” she says, her lips curving in a playful smirk. “You planning to continue drooling in the doorway, or are you going to invite me in?”
I open the door wide for her to slip in. “Brat,” I grunt out, not bothering to correct her because I’m nearly certain I was drooling.
She steps inside, shrugging off her black peacoat, giving me the most perfect view of that tiny dress in all its glory. Dress is a bit of a stretch. It’s basically a mere scrap of fabric.
“I won’t deny that,” she says, taking off her combat boots and lining them up at the door. She makes her way into the kitchen, opening up the black cabinets one by one. I lean against the counter, watching her as she shamelessly searches for something. What, I’m not sure.
When she makes it to the mugs, she pulls one out and opens my fridge, filling it with the water pitcher inside before guzzling half the glass down. She then grabs the electric kettle beside the stove, filling it from the tap and turning it on.
“Someone’s thirsty,” I remark, a teasing tone in my voice. There’s a strange sense of satisfaction tangling in my chest as I watch her rummage through my cupboards, making herself at home.
She peers over her shoulder at me, smirking and tossing me a wink before pulling down a box of lavender Earl Grey, closing the door, and setting her mug on the counter. She twists to face me, hopping up on the cool marble countertop, and crooks a finger at me.
I willingly oblige, stepping between her legs, and the heat between them warms my abdomen. Her hands slide up my chest, digging into my shoulders and wrapping around my neck, pulling my face into her. I nuzzle her neck, anchoring my hands on either side of her hips.
It feels like it’s the most natural thing in the world to be with her like this. Kissing her neck, allowing the unfamiliar calmness she brings to wrap around me like a soft blanket. If I’m not careful, I may start to like this a bit too much. Hell, I already have.
Elise’s fingers curl into my hair, playing with the ends, then rubbing soft circles in my scalp with her nails. I release a sigh, and just as I do, she jumps.
“Ah!” she shrieks, her wide eyes meeting mine before flickering back beside her.
She clutches a hand to her chest, letting out a relieved sigh, her breasts heaving beneath the tight squared top of her dress.
“She scared the crap out of me,” she says, shaking her head.
The side of her lips turn in a lopsided grin that shows off her dimpled cheek.
“I didn’t peg you as a cat guy,” she says, sinking her fingers into Mrs. Purrito’s silky grey-and-white fur.
“I didn’t exactly get a say in the matter.” I try to sound annoyed by it, but in reality, Carlos’s demands for me to adopt this damn cat were a small blessing. I’ll never admit that, but I think I needed her more than she needed me, and he knew it.
Elise doesn’t ask for anything further, and it’s something I appreciate about her. “I like her. She’s sweet. I’d have thought you’d be more of a Doberman kind of guy, but this sweet angel sort of suits you. Like the yang to your yin,” she muses.
It’s a frustratingly accurate assessment. One that makes me feel bare to her, and not in a way I’m comfortable with.
I clear my throat. “I’ll tell you her name, but only if you promise not to laugh,” I say, pinning her with my gaze. God, I hope she laughs. Her laughter dances into the darkest parts of my heart, somehow managing to restart the mechanics of it with the sound alone.
“That bad, huh?” she asks, tilting her head.
“Mrs. Purrito,” I say, my voice as deadpan as possible under the circumstances.
Her wide eyes meet mine, a completely blank face taking over her expression.
She blinks twice, slowly. And then it happens.
That loud laughter billows out of her, catching her by surprise as her shoulders shake, and her eyes well with unshed tears.
My cheeks burn from the involuntary smile I’ve been wearing since she arrived, and right now is no different.
God, she’s beautiful when she laughs. Hell, she’s always so beautiful, it makes my chest ache.
“Well, aren’t you full of surprises?” she muses when the laughter has stopped and she’s managed to catch her breath.
I wrap my arms around her waist and toss her over my shoulder. She releases a surprised yelp but doesn’t even miss a beat, smacking my ass as I carry her into my room, ignoring the high-pitched wail of the tea kettle.