we spent our night and morning. We haven’t even been able to address that yet.
What does this even mean to her? What does it mean to me? I guess we could both go with the obvious excuse and say it was nothing but a moment of passion—that we’d both been wound too tight and were in the right place at the right time. But I know that isn’t the case on my end. However, being with her—actually being with her—was way more than I’d expected. When I thought about how she would be, feel, and taste, I never imagined it would be this good. I feel like I’ve had my first hit, and already, I’m addicted.
Even as I sit here right now, alone in my office with a strong drink in my hand, the only thing I can think about is getting lost in her again. I don’t want to talk or think or try or plan out our future and how we’re going to move along after this. All I want is to ignore it all—wrapped up in her featherlight touch, her quiet giggles, her soft moans and whimpers, and her hot, welcoming body greeting mine like an old friend. She fits me perfectly, like her body was made with me in mind. We’re like two pieces from entirely different puzzles that somehow match up perfectly. I don’t understand it, but I also don’t want to overthink it.
I finish off my drink and exit my office, seeking her out. The living room is empty but her bedroom door is closed. I’m sure that’s where she is. I knock twice but open it without waiting for her to tell me to come in or go away. When I step in, she’s just stepping out of the bathroom, her body soaked and covered in a towel.
She stands there, motionless, watching as I quickly cross the floor and pull her to me. Our lips meet and she wraps her arms around my neck, not even considering rejecting me. Her hands push my suit jacket over my shoulders and it falls to the floor. She busies herself loosening my tie and unbuttoning my shirt. Her hands finally find my belt and she breaks the kiss, watching her fingers as they unlatch it. I shrug out of my shirt and push my pants down my hips, allowing them to fall into a heap around my ankles. I reach for her towel and one quick tug has it tumbling down her body.
I pull her against me again, kissing her as I step over to the bed. Good thing we’re already so close, or I would’ve had to stop to take off my shoes and pants in order to reach her. I break the kiss and spin her around. Placing my hand on the center of her back, I push her to bend over in front of me. She does as I want and I position myself at her entrance. Without warning, I thrust into her. I slide in with ease, like I’m finally home. I freeze, just cherishing this moment and all the emotions running through my body.
For the first time since I left my grandmother’s, I feel like all is right in the world. I can finally breathe. I can finally be me—not the man my grandmother and father raised, but the man she’s helping me become. I no longer feel like I’m on top of the world because I have money and nice things. Now, I’m on top of the world because I have her. She makes me a better man in every sense of the word. And while I know I still have a lot to overcome, I want to do it. For her.
All of these things are running through my brain at the same time, and I have no idea what any of it means. But I’m too lost in her to think about it any further. I pull my hips back and thrust them forward again. My hands are on her hips and I let them fall down to her round ass that’s bent over in front of me. Her skin is perfect—soft and creamy—slightly lighter than the rest of her body that’s been kissed by the sun. There’s not a mark on it. Well, not yet anyway.
I bring my hand back and slap the skin. She lets out a loud and startled yelp and turns her head around to find my gaze. I stare back at her as I