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I had never met someone who switched from being a submissive to dominant so well and that made him a better Dom than I would ever be. Our dynamic was explosive. I didn’t ever think I’d have a connection like this with one person, much less two, albeit one of them being my son's best friend.
My stomach soured at the thought, but we had a contract. Once we had our fun we would be done and that’s all there was to it. It was an itch that needed to be scratched, just a taste of the forbidden.
I slowly tried to get out of bed, lifting Noemi, pushing a few pillows around her to keep her asleep. She didn’t stay still, turning around towards Easton, who pulled her closer. They were entirely too young for me, but I found myself enjoying it.
After using the restroom, I threw on some pants, and walked to the kitchen, needing coffee. The living room and kitchen were chilly. The mornings had gotten colder and the days were getting more dreary. I flipped on the fireplace, regretting not putting a shirt on, but once I got my coffee, I knew I’d start to warm up.
Turning on my fancy coffee machine, I brought out everything I needed. Weighing the beans, I ground them to the proper size so they could dispense in the portafilter.
“Is it customary for rich men to have these amazing espresso machines?” Noemi’s voice was still hoarse from sleep.
I laughed before turning around to see her in one of my shirts, showing off her thick thighs that made me want to have them over my shoulders again. She looked edible, sleep rumpled and all.
“Yes, that’s what you get when you make your first hundred million,” I said, smirking at her as she walked to me.
She rolled her eyes. “May I?” she asked, pointing to the machine.
“Sure,” I said, wondering if she was doing this to impress me or if she actually knew how to use one of these machines.
Before she even started the machine, she went into my pantry looking for something, and came out with a small box. As soon as I saw the colors, I knew exactly what it was. She went about making my coffee quickly, starting a cup for herself. I sat down admiring how at ease she looked doing it.
“Did you used to be a barista?” I asked, as she brought me my coffee.
“Yeah, I worked at a local coffee shop, I’m kind of a snob now,” she chuckled, walking back to the machine. “Do you have any cookies or pastries? A concha would be great.”
I chuckled. “I’m sorry, my daily delivery of conchas hasn’t arrived yet.”
When she looked back at me, she narrowed her eyes. “Rude.”
I smirked before taking a sip of it. Fuck my life, who the hell was this woman? It was delicious and she was right, we needed some pan dulce.
“I’m ordering conchas now,” I said, pulling my phone out of my pocket.
“What's a concha?”
I turned around to see Easton in his dress pants and his buttoned-up shirt tucked in. He wasn’t as put together as he normally was, but this was even better.
“The most delicious thing you might ever eat,” Noemi responded, bringing him a cup of coffee. “Good morning.”
I couldn’t help but glance their way, she looked at him with a sultry smile while he stared down at her with a smirk.
“Thanks, Bambi,” he whispered, before taking a sip of his coffee.
His eyes grew wide looking at the drink then glancing at Noemi walking away from him.
“It’s delicious,” I said, taking another sip as I ordered food to be delivered to us with some pan dulce.
Noemi grabbed her own cup, turning around and leaning on the counter. She took a sip, moaning softly as she closed her eyes, savoring the flavor. Her eyes opened, locking eyes with me for a moment, then looking at Easton who I’m sure was staring at her too.
Her cheeks grew pink in embarrassment.
“Sorry,” she said softly. “I love my coffee.”
“Keep up those little noises and that shirt is going to be on the floor while I have my breakfast on the island,” Easton groaned.
I chuckled.
“Is that allowed?” Noemi looked genuinely curious. “Are we not always supposed to be in a scene as you like to call it.”
