“I know—I read your personnel profile. I’m thirty-seven, if it matters to you.”
“It doesn’t,” she said.
We were quiet again until she made a turn into a cul-de-sac that had about six different houses all around the same size.
“Did you buy this place?”
“No, I’m renting.”
Right. Because Dyson’s wasn’t a permanent position. She was just here until she learned whatever she felt was enough from me then she would move on.
There was snow from the storm we’d had up north that had made it down here, although not as much. Still her driveway was clear.
“Who shovels your snow?” I asked, irrationally jealous of the man who thought he had the right to shovel her driveway.
“Jerry. He’s my neighbor’s son. We have a standing deal. Any time snow falls, he gets fifty bucks for taking care of my driveway.”
Jealous of a kid then. That was fairly pathetic.
We got out of the car and walked up the path to her front porch. She unlocked the door and stepped inside. No rushing around. No running to pick up things that might have been left out.
I could see there was a mat for boots and shoes. An end table with a box on it, where she put her keys. A coat rack where she hung her coat. Everything in its place. Like a typical engineer.
I followed her up the few steps and inside to what was an open design space. Living area that blended into a kitchen. A hallway that most likely led to the bedrooms. There was color and pillows and shit that women did that men didn’t give a fuck about. There was a table along the front window with pictures of her life. Her past.
“I’m just going to change real quick,” she said while I looked through the pictures.
“Need help?”
She paused. “Uh…I wasn’t sure we were doing that again.”
I opened the bag I had in my hand and took out the boxes of condoms.
“I guess that means we’re doing this again.”
“You want to stop?” I asked, knowing damn well she didn’t.
“I do have a hard time with the zipper on this skirt…”
That was all I needed. I reached her in a blink with my mouth coming down on hers. It was like coming home. The taste of her, the feel of her in my arms. I picked her up with one arm around her waist and marched us down the hallway.
“To the right,” she said, breaking the kiss only for a moment before she was kissing me again, her tongue swirling over mine.
Once we were in her bedroom, I didn’t waste any time. I stripped her of her suit coat then I did what I had been fantasizing about all damn day. I ripped her shirt open, the scattered buttons pinging against her hardwood floor.
“That was silk,” she huffed still working to pull the sleeves off.
“Now it’s mine.” I snapped open the center clasp of her bra and her breasts fell into my palms. I bent to suck her already hard nipples into my mouth. So fucking delicious.
I reached around her to lower the zipper of her skirt and it dropped to her feet. I could see she was about to step out of her shoes.
“No,” I told her. “The shoes stay on. I’m going to fuck you in those shoes.”
It seemed all my fantasies were coming true today. I moved her then and bent her over the bed. Tossed her bra away. Slipped her panties down her legs. Let her carefully step out of them with her shoes on.
Naked, braced against the bed in nothing but three-inch, stiletto pumps, she was better than any fantasy I’d ever had about her.
She looked at me over her shoulder. “Aren’t you going to take your clothes off?”
