“Plans for today?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound too eager.
“I hadn’t really thought very far past last night,” she smirks up at me, and I go all gooey inside.
“So you won’t be opposed if I come knocking sometime today?” I mumble around my toothbrush as I walk back into the bathroom to spit in the sink.
“Not one bit. I expect it. I’ll message you if I have to step out.” She leans against the doorframe, watching me rinse. I look at her in the reflection of the mirror and grin as I see her eyes raking over my flexing forearms. They travel up my arms, across my chest, and down my abs, lingering on my cut lines.
“If you intend to leave, now would be the time before I throw you back on my bed. The way you’re looking at me is giving my cock ideas.”
Her eyes flash with desire. She likes that idea. My cock likes that idea.Maybe just a quick round?She sighs and smiles. I turn and begin to remove the towel from my hips and her eyes widen, knowing I’m two seconds from making good on that comment. She squeaks the cutest little sound of frustration and disappears from my door.
“Nope, Bitsy! Naughty pussy…” I drop my deodorant when I hear her muttering to herself as she opens the door. “Oh! Hi, Amy, baby! You’re such a good girl.” As she retreats down my hallway still muttering, I laugh heartily out loud. That was the best thing I’ve heard all morning next to the sounds I coaxed out of Sydney when I ravaged that “naughty pussy” with my mouth. I continue chuckling all the way to my dresser, rummaging through my boxer drawer. I haven’t felt this happy in a long, long time. How soon is too soon to show up at her back door?
Amy comes bounding down the hall back to my room like she hasn’t seen me in days. She’s used to roaming freely in and out of my room, so I can imagine she was confused with the closed door. I bend down and rub her head, and she flops down to give me her belly.
“You are such a good girl. I haven’t forgotten you. You wanna go play?” I rub that belly good, but when the word ‘play’ exits my mouth, Amy answers with an emphatic bark. She jumps back up to her feet, waggling that tail with an exuberance that puts a wide grin on my face. “Okay, girl. Let me get dressed.” I run my hand through my damp hair, scanning through my hung up shirts, settling on a plain gray tee. I grab a pair of navy athletic shorts and slip on some sandals.
“Let’s go, girl!” I pat my thigh loudly to snag her attention, and she comes running from the living room with her favorite ball. Amy drops it at my feet as soon as I step outside and shut the door behind me. She woofs excitedly, so I pick up the ball and launch it out toward the beach as far as I can. The blur ofbrown races for it, rolling in the grass once she snags it up. I continue down my pathway, enjoying the scenery ahead. When I finally reach the sand, I kick off my shoes. Straight out ahead and to my left going toward Sydney’s place, the sand is mostly smooth and enjoyable without shoes. A few hundred feet to my right it gets a little more rocky as there are no neighbors or houses that way. It’s more natural, whereas this stretch of beach was intended for private access. I love the contrast of it all. I wiggle my toes in the sand, reveling in its gritty beauty. The tranquility it brings to my soul. Amy makes her way back for another throw, and I oblige her. This time I launch it toward the water’s edge, but not in it.
Last night was something. It was better than I’d imagined, and I feel like a part of me that I hadn’t even realized died along with Jenna sprung back to life. It’s not that I never thought about sex for the past five years, but it just wasn’t a priority. I didn’t look at anyone and yearn for them the way that I look at Sydney. She’s such a breath of fresh air, like a breeze rolling in off the sea from a coming storm, exhilarating and energizing every square inch of my body and soul. I had forgotten what it felt like.
Amy and I stroll along the shoreline, letting the water lap at our toes, and I marvel at how it rushes in, sweeping away little layers of sand only to replace them again when it returns. Little things I’ve never taken the time to really appreciate or ponder. A pretty colored, decently sized scallop shell that washes up catches my eye, and I snag it before it can be washed back out. I turn it over and over in my hand and know that Sydney will love it. I wonder if she’s collected many since moving here. I pocket it for later.
We’re pretty close to her place, and we’re about to turn to head back home when I hear a loud shout come from her opened windows. Amy’s ears perk and her head swivels that wayseconds before she takes off toward the grass leading up to the backyard. The shout didn’t sound completely distressed, but it didn’t sound happy either. I reach for my phone to check on her only to realize I left it on my kitchen island. Well, looks like I’m knocking now.
Amy’s barking on her way to the back door, so I begin jogging to catch up. I would imagine Sydney hears her by now, but she hasn’t come to the door to see what’s up.What if something happened, and she’s hurt? Is that what Amy senses?I pick up my pace, suddenly worried. When I reach the French doors, Amy whines, pacing back and forth between me and the door. Something’s up.
“Sydney?!” I holler out, announcing myself before turning the knob. It’s unlocked, but she doesn’t answer.
Chapter 12
Sydney
“Gah!” I holler as I reach for any available towel out of the drawer next to the kitchen sink. When I got home from Colin’s to feed Bitsy, I found my faucet leaking more than usual and decided to tinker with it. Wrong move. It’d been a colossal mistake on my part. Now I am drenched, my floor is drenched, and Bitsy ran off because she’s drenched. It’s an absolute mess, and I can’t get it to slow its spraying long enough to locate the valve and turn it off.
I try throwing the towel over the top of the faucet and miss. “FUCK!”I yell as my feet slip. On my way down, I can’t help thinking this is a shittyway to go. I’m going to bash my head on something and die, retraumatizing Colin when he finds my dead body. I hit the floor hard, my back smacking the tile with a thud, but thankfully, not my head. The pain radiates everywhere, and I’m stunned from it. I open my mouth to scream, but nothing comes out.
“Sydney?” I hear Colin call out from my patio door as Amy whines and paws at it. I’m still too stunned to say anything. The door swings open tentatively, Amy barging through, her nails clacking on the flooring until she hits water and whines again, slipping in the mess.
Colin steps in with wary eyes, amusement quickly seconded by worry when he sees me in the middle of a soppy puddle on the floor.
“What in the world happened?” he asks, tip-toeing to me with bare feet, attempting to avoid the same fate. Tears well in my eyes from the pain and embarrassment of my situation.
“Oh, babe, how bad is it? Did you hit your head?” He crouches and reaches for me, placing a hand on my arm as he swings open the bottom cupboard door beneath the sink, twisting the valve off, effectively ending the shower of water. “What hurts?” Colin queries as he starts looking me over, starting with my eyes and searching for any bumps or blood.
“My ass,” I splutter as I half laugh and half cry.
Colin can no longer contain his amusement, laughing heartily as he pulls me to his chest and rubs my back soothingly. It’s in that moment that Bitsy makes her disdain for the puddle situation known, stepping around the wall’s corner, meowing a pathetic sound to show us just how wet she got. She’s attempting to lick off the water like that will somehow dry her faster. Amy scampers over toward her, and Bitsy’s little back arches against the wall and she spits her fury at the big animal. This only makes us laugh harder. Colin grabs another towel from the drawer by the sink and makes his way to Bitsy.
“Come here, Little Bit. I’ll help get you warm and away from that scary monster.” My heart warms at the sight of that big man caring for such a tiny, little thing. It makes my ovaries explode, and I picture him holding a swaddled baby instead of atiny ball of fluff. It’s hot. He gets Bitsy mostly dried off, setting her in the bay window in the sunshine and away from Amy.
“More towels?” He eyes me quizzically, and I point toward the foyer.
“Back by the half bath in the hallway, there’s a linen closet. I’m coming.”
“Wait there. I don’t want you slipping again, trying to get up. I’ll help you up, assess the damage to your ass, then we’ll get this cleaned up.” He chuckles and slips out of the room to go gather towels. A minute later, he’s back, laying them out to surround me, making it safer for us to move. He helps me up and leads me over to the table of the eat-in kitchen, pulling out a chair and sitting on it. “Turn and let me see.”
I blush, embarrassed that this is how he’s going to get me naked and we’re not even having sex. I’m also strangely turned on by the whole dominant tone he’s using with me. I unzip my shorts, and he delicately hooks his fingers in the waistband, pulling them down gingerly over my ass so that he doesn’t hurt me. He lifts the back of my shirt up as well. He traces the lines of my lace tanga undies before sliding the back of them over my cheeks as well.
