Knox
Christ on a cracker.
Earthy motherfucking Ella wanted me dead. No other explanation.
I walked away from the park yesterday doubting my choices. Wondering how one woman, faster than I knew was humanly possible, had burrowed so deeply under my skin. And, Ella was in there fucking deep.
I spent most my night pretending otherwise. Skimming through photos and videos of me with other women, doing my damnedest to pretend any of them compared to her. They didn't, of course. Not even close.
Even called two of my very favorites to arrange a meetup at the hotel downtown. Neither sounded soft nor sweet enough. Neither had dark eyes with darker hair with honey streaks of sunshine in it. None of them laughed when I kissed them when I touched them where they want me most.
“Not tonight,” I sighed during the second call that I had initiated, confusing the hell out of both of us, “I forgot I had something come up suddenly.” Not only did I not take Ella in the park like we both wanted and not meet up to bang out my frustration with a usual suspect, I think I lost two of my favorites.
Truth is, I didn't even fucking care.
I read through every message Ella and I shared about a dozen times. Typed out new ones to her twice that. Never sent a single one of them because whatever the girl had done to me, she had done it good. Seriously doubted one night with Ella could even come close to being enough.
For me. For her. But, damn if I wasn't curious what that might feel like.
Wanting more. Needing more. I never wanted more from a woman. Learned a lifetime ago not to trust women, not to expect more than they can give. My mother couldn't give me attention or affection if she had a man who wanted it instead. Couldn't give me clean clothes on my back or food in my belly either. Stopped expecting shit from women once the one woman who should have been willing to give everything couldn't be bothered to give the bare minimum.
“What's got your panties in a bunch today, Kinkaid?” Taylor asks about five minutes into our morning meeting.
“Fuck off, Lassiter.” We say nothing else to one another for the rest of the meeting.
Last name calling means we are both in a mood. I suspect his still has something to do with me firing his favorite fuck toy. Mine is thanks to the endless wet dream I had starring one earthy beauty, the pretty pink pussy I barely got a taste of, and freckles spelling my fucking name all over her dewy skin.
After our meeting, I sulked in my office doing absolutely nothing. Hard as stone in my slacks, my hand achy from the pounding I gave my dick last night. Every time I glanced at that photo of her on my phone, I almost went off. It got double-digit ridiculous. Didn't even know a man could come so fast so often.
First thing this morning, I deleted it. Wanted to rid myself of her.
Switching to my personal phone, deciding I needed a trip to pound town tonight, hell maybe over lunch, I realized what a wicked witch Ella was. Five images sat unopened on my phone. That phone. Being on that phone told me two things. Ella knew just what kind of shit I used that phone for. And, she fucking wanted in.
“Christ. Don't open it, idiot. Not a single fucking one.” Even as I warn myself against it, my hands shake as I swipe open the message.
And, here we fucking are.
Twenty minutes later with my hand wrapped around my cock, I decide beautiful Ella wants me dead. I slowly stroke myself to the positively perfectly filthy photos she left on my phone. Mimicking some of my own poses, each hotter than the next, the woman was clearly trying to kill me fucking dead.
“Fucking filthy goddess.” I grunt, pumping my dick as I gaze at my favorite.
Ella lies in a twist of bright lemon colored sheets, naked. Her small tits shine in sunlight as she arches back against some flower shaped pillows, her pretty peach nipples hard. My fucking mouth waters. Posed this way, I can make out five tattoos on her creamy golden skin.
A cage at her hip, birds fluttering to freedom over her belly. A curve of words over the curve of the other hip. Flowers dot her left thigh and two small words are beneath her right breast. Fuck, I want to trace each design with my tongue until I can see them without even looking.
Lying in that bed, she looks like she's lying in a garden, waiting for me to pick. Thighs spread, I can see that pretty pink slit I ran my fingers over yesterday, my hand pumping harder as I remember the sweet honey I stole from those folds. Dark eyes look away, half closed as her hand presses between her legs. I imagine her touching herself just like I did last night.
Imagine the sounds she made. Glittering pleasure in her beautiful eyes as she came. Fuck, I'm coming now, shooting all over paperwork I probably need. Not the first time we had spunk on paperwork around this office, honestly.
“Fuck, Ella.” I growl, sliding to the next photo of her looking into the camera.
Seated in a bath, her eyes are bright caramel and look just like they did last night when I first touched her. Her skin glistens, her tits dotted with petals from flowers that float in her water. Jesus. Feels as if I'm right there with her, those eyes locked on mine, seeing everything no one else is supposed to see.
“Need to see you. Right now. One night, Ella.”I fire off the message as I clean myself up, praying to whatever makes this kind of shit happen that she agrees.
I can't give more. Maybe since she knows it up front....
“Fuck.” I throw both phones on my desk as they both ping with messages.
