“Dude, we live together. You’ll see me tomorrow at breakfast.”
“Night, Flowers. Sleep tight. Dream about what it’s going to feel like when I get my mouth between your thighs again. And should the idea occur to you, I also would like your mouth on my dick please.”
She squirmed a little bit and my satisfaction was intense.
I left her door and went back to my room. I stripped and realized I was rock hard. Taking myself in hand, I considered a hot shower and a good hard tug, but then I thought about waiting for Flowers to be there with me.
Then I began to form a mental list of dirty things I wanted to do to her body.
Shower sex not even making the top ten, but it was still up there.
FORTY-THREE
ANNA
She was here. Now. They were in it.
I lookedat myself in the mirror as I got ready for what was my second official date. All I saw was my belly. Hmm. Was that sexy to a guy?
Maybe if it was his baby.
It had been an easy fashion decision since I didn’t own much beyond business casual and athleisure wear. I had two dresses, one was a stretchy black dress I’d gotten on sale because I was told by the salesclerk that every woman needed a short black dress.
It was form fitting, but because of the material it did accommodate my growing uterus.
But now with Boo right there, it felt like I was wearing a big sign on my gut that saidLook Here!
Stepping into a pair of slippers, I left my bedroom and walked over to E.G.’s bedroom. His door wasn’t shut all the wayand I could see him sitting on his bed, dressed only in a pair of boxer-briefs, putting his pants on.
I stopped for a brief moment to admire his bare chest. It was hairy, not like too crazy, but definitely run your fingers through it hairy. I’d forgotten that about him. That I’d liked the feel of his chest pressed against my smooth back.
Although, it’s not like there was any point in thinking about sex, because it wasn’t happening with how I looked in this dress.
He was standing now, fastening his pants at the waist, and it made me think of a joke.
“How does a billionaire put his pants on?” I asked from the doorway.
“One leg at a time,” he said, without missing a beat.
Then he walked over to me and I had to force myself not to stare at his hairy chest that I desperately wanted to run my fingers over.
“What’s up?”
“I don’t think we can go on our date,” I said, forcing my head up at an angle where I was practically looking at the ceiling.
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t look sexy, and if I can’t look sexy, then what’s the point?”
“Are you seriously standing in my bedroom fishing for compliments?”
“I’m not fishing! I mean it. Look at my gut in this dress.”
I heard a thump and allowed myself to look down. E.G. had fallen to his knees so that his face was level with the Boo. He put his hand on my belly and it covered the entire stretch of my stomach.
“This? You don’t think this is sexy?”
“No. Looking like I swallowed a soccer ball is not what I would call a hot look for me. I can’t be wooed if I don’t buy for a second that I’m turning you on.”
