Page 18 of Weather the Storm
Finally, when I can’t take the building pressure any longer, I bring his shirt to my nose and inhale before trailing my free hand down my belly, going lower and lower until I’m right where I need to be. I’m burning so, so hot for this man. Without even knowing or trying, he’s waking up a part of me that’s been dormant for so long, I forgot it even existed.
Chapter Ten
SIMON
Touching Magnolia is the sweetest form of torture there is, and my God, judging from her reactions, she’d agree. I was looking forward to pulling her into my side on the couch, but she wasn’t feeling it, and I get that—today was a big day—but I’m in no mood to watch television alone. Trudging down the hall toward my room, I pause outside her door when I hear a small moan slip through.
No. No way.No fuckingwayis she in there doing what I think she is. Like a damn pervert, I lurk outside her door and listen. I stand there, delighting in the sounds I hear spilling from her lips, wishing I could see her, could touch her.
Disgusted with myself but unable to tear myself away, I listen as she brings herself to completion, and whenmyname topples from her lips as she does, it about brings me to my damn knees.
More revved up than ever, I finish the painful journey back to my room, ready to follow Magnolia’s lead by taking things into my own two hands. Just like she did, I finish with her name falling from my mouth before drifting off to sleep, both sated and wanting more.
The following morning, I wake with Magnolia on my mind, and judging from the tent in my boxers, she stayed on my mind all night. Anxious to see her pretty face, I rush through my morning routine, getting ready in record time.
Flinging my bedroom door open, I rush toward the kitchen, stopping short when I realize I’m acting insane.Be cool, Simon. Be. Cool.Slightly calmer, I resume walking, only to be met with silence. There’s no Magnolia.
Damn, I didn’t realize until now how much I’d gotten used to seeing her every morning.
Deflated, I grab the cutting board from the drawer and a knife from the butcher block then begin slicing some fresh berries to mix into my Greek yogurt along with some granola.
I’m in the middle of spooning some yogurt into a bowl to set aside for Magnolia when she pads into the kitchen, slow and sleepy. “Good mornin’, beautiful.”
She offers me a lazy smile and walks over to stand next to me—right freaking next to me, so close I can smell her. It’s jasmine and lavender, like a midnight walk through a garden…fucking intoxicating.
“I overslept.” She yawns, stretching her arms above her head and arching her back, her perky breasts straining toward me and the hem of her shirt—my shirt—rising to a dangerous height, exposing the skin of her gorgeous thighs. “It’s been a long time since I’ve slept that well.”
I can’t decide if I’m imagining things or if she’s implying she slept well thanks to her bedtime self-love session, the one starring me.Yeah, I’m going with that.While it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her I’m glad I could help, I bite that thought down.
Instead, I reach forward and brush a piece of wayward hair out of her face. “No worries. I have some fruit and yogurt, may even have some granola.”
“Oh, that sounds delicious. Thank you.”
“Anything for you,” I say, shocked by just how much I mean it. “You got a busy day at the salon today?”
She nods, finishing her spoonful of yogurt. “I do. You wouldn’t think missing a week would make me this busy playing catch-up, but I had a few clients who didn’t want to see anyone else.”
“Makes sense. From what I’ve heard and seen, you’re very skilled at what you do.” Magnolia all but glows at my compliment, and my chest swells with pride, knowing I put that look on her face.
“You’re so sweet to me, Simon.”
I’m about to reply when the time on the microwave display catches my attention. “Holy—I’m gonna be late. I gotta run, Mags.”
“It’s okay. You go, I’ll clean up,” she assures me before turning to face me so I can drop my customary kiss to her forehead, except this time, I go for her cheek, right below her eye.
Licking my lips, I savor the taste of her skin as I dash to my truck. I skid into my parking spot in the faculty lot with one minute to spare. By the time I make it to my classroom, the warning bell is ringing, and some of my students are already seated at their desks.
§
Thursday was much of the same—lots of not-so-innocent innocent touches and lingering looks—but today somehow feels different. Maybe it’s because I know what’s coming this evening. Then again, it could be something else entirely.
Magnolia and I have been dancing around our attraction to each other so well, we may as well be competitive ballroom dancers, but it’s all good. I can sense she needs more time, and I’m willing to wait as long as she needs. She’s more than worth it.
I glance up at the clock hanging over my classroom door and see that we’re five minutes to the last bell. “That’s it for today, world historians. Leave your tests on your desks—they will be graded over the weekend. Pack up your bags and stay out of trouble between now and Monday.”
I remain seated as the bell rings and my students file out of the classroom. Standing, I walk the aisles of desks and gather their exams, placing them into my fourth block folder and tucking it into my bag along with the rest of my grading.
Excited and nervous for what’s to come, I hurry to my truck. From inside the cab, I text Seraphine to make sure Magnolia’s ready for me to pick her up, even if she doesn’t know she’s ready.
