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Of course I’m still in limbo with the Sienna shit, but beyond that, things are good.
I get into the apartment and fuck me, but Jada is standing there at the kitchen island in lingerie.
I freeze, taking in the eye candy.
She’s wearing a French Maid outfit. It’s sheer and she’s not wearing a bra or underwear.
She’s got stilettos on.
Her lips are red, her eyelashes are thick and black, and she’s standing there with her palms on either side of her hips against the counter.
I drop my stuff and head to her, undoing my shirt.
She lifts up a black feather duster and slowly dusts my chest with it, a focused look on her face.
I grab her by the back of her thighs and lift her onto the kitchen counter, going for my fly.
“Sir Groucho, I must dust… how about you inspect while I do?” She’s tried to put on a French accent. It‘s awful. But it takes the sex appeal up another notch for some reason.
“Fuck the dust,” I growl as I find my way under her uniform.
“Fuck zee dust?” she asks in mock horror, but then gasps as my fingers get to their goal. She’s drenched. I drop to a squat and bury my face under it so I can attack her pussy with my mouth. She comes all over my face in about two and a half minutes, then I’m carrying her to the master bedroom. I throw her on her back and get my clothes the rest of the way off.
“I was gonna pick the game tonight, sweetheart. Now I’m gonna have to do it tomorrow.”
“You have a game in mind?” she breathes, wild-eyed, forgetting her fake accent.
I smile. “Now you’ll have to wait.”
She pouts. Her lower lip protrudes adorably.
And then I slam my cock into her tight heat and her lips part as a gasp escapes.
***
“What’s for dinner?” I ask, snuggled with my little capuchin monkey afterwards.
“Peanut butter sandwiches,” she says sleepily, yawning.
“Slackin’ on the job now that you figure you got me wrapped around your finger?”
“Nope. Just can’t cook after having my brains fucked out,” she whispers.
I laugh.
“There’s a lasagna in the oven,” she amends.
“Mm.” I thought I smelled something cooking.
“A vegetable and seafood lasagna actually.”
“Seafood?” I make a face. “Are we gonna survive the night?”
“Fingers crossed. We’ve got twenty-four rolls of toilet paper, so we should.”
I laugh.
“And I ran to the bakery to buy some cannolis for dessert.”
“Ooh. Good call. Glad I’ve got a home gym in my house since I’ve put on five pounds in the last month,” I remark.
She giggles and pokes my belly. “Still got a six pack, I see. I’ll stop feeding you so well if your buff turns to fluff.”
I chuckle.
“Actually, I could totally handle it if you get a Dad bod. I don’t only want you for your body,” she whispers.
“No? You want me for my math skills?”
“Yeah,” she chokes out a laugh. “That’s exactly why I want you.”
“Well, I want you just as you are.”
She cuddles in closer.
“No wait,” I say.
Her eyes dart up to mine.
“One thing I’d like you to work on. Would you please, pretty please, clean up your computer desktop? I have no fuckin’ clue how you run that thing like that.”
She barks out a laugh.
“So many fuckin’ icons. Drives me batty to even think of it. Though if your computer was tidy, I could’ve missed out on discovering my favorite new soon-to-be-published author. My sweetheart.”
She lets out a little purr and nuzzles in closer.
And then she goes rigid.
“What’s wrong?” I kiss her nose.
“When you joked about why I want you, it kind of reminded me of an unpleasant exchange tonight with Andrew down in the lobby. He was rude to me. I don’t think he liked the hickey and then he got a little nasty.”
“He what?” I sit up, now serious.
“Made comments insinuating I’m after your money.”
“You know how much money I’ve got?” I ask.
Jada shakes her head.
“For all you know, I’ve got nothing, don’t get a trust fund until I’m forty and I’m up to my eyeballs in debt. Lotta business execs aren’t rolling in it nowadays.”
“Are you? In financial trouble?”
“Would you break up with me if I was?”
She shakes her head again. “I’d get a second job to help you pay off your debts.”
I pull her close, feeling warmth through every vein in my body. “I believe that. For the record, I’ve got more than a little money in the bank.”
“I’m not after your money,” she whispers. “I want your body.”
“I own my house, a boat, two cars, and a condo in the Canary Islands as well as one in Glasgow.”
Jada’s jaw drops. “Glasgow?”
“Love it there. Spent a semester there in my last year of college. Can’t wait to take you. And I’ve got money put away for future kids’ college funds already. I know money, I’ve been saving it since I got my first job at sixteen, and yeah, I got part of my trust fund at twenty-one and put it into good investments, get the rest in a few years, plus I’ll stand to inherit a whack of money when the unthinkable happens and I lose my dad. I don’t believe in prenups, never have, so when I get married I won’t be asking my bride to sign one.”
