Page 57 of Mr. Match

“No,” I say. “Why?”

“If you do,” she says, ignoring my question, “don’t make any rash judgments before talking to me first.”

I pat her hand. “Deal. Wanna eat out or in?”

“In,” she says. And even though she usually has an air of strength and control about her… tonight Kat just looks… vulnerable.

“Is something wrong?” I ask.

“Not yet,” she says.

“But you’ll let me know if something does go wrong?”

“You’ll be the first, I swear.” She crosses her heart with a finger.

“OK,” I say, giving her hand a final squeeze and then getting out of the car. Kat gets out too, and follows me towards the back door of the building. We stop so I can disarm the alarm, and then I wave her inside and flip on the lights.

“Don’t you feel exposed in here?” Kat says. “With all these massive garage-door windows?”

“They’re mirrors at night,” I say, taking off my jacket and throwing it over the seat of a barstool lined up next to the kitchen island. “You can’t really see in. Unless you put your face right up to it. So what do you want to eat?”

Kat looks at me with a sly grin. She walks forward slowly, her little skirt swishing against her long legs. “You first,” she says. “Food later.”

When she gets directly in front of me her hands are on my belt buckle, making it jingle as she flips it open and goes for the button on my jeans.

I let out a long breath and lean back against the counter as she drops to her knees. “What if your brother finds out?”

She laughs, a real smile that warms me up even more than I already am. “Don’t worry,” Kat says, busy pulling my cock out of my pants. “You can take him.”

And then she puts her mouth on me. Her wet tongue and hot breath. Her hands squeezing my shaft. Pumping up and down.

“God,” I say, my fingers automatically going to her hair. I fist it tight. Urging her to take me deeper. “I’ve missed you.”

She pulls back just enough to say, “‘You express me better than I express myself. You shall be more to me than my poem.’ Everything is OK for now.”

“Katya,” I say, touched when she recites the last words I ever put on her body.

“Just let me have my way with you,” she says. And when her mouth resumes on the tip of my cock, I let her have her way.

She is more to me than my poem.

Chapter Twenty-Six - KATYA

I look at him. My lips gently sliding over the tip of his cock. My tongue licking seductively before I take him deeper into my mouth. His hands in my hair urge me on, but I pull back and say, “I want you naked.”

He smiles first, then laughs as he reaches behind his head and lifts his shirt. I stare at his stomach as more skin appears.

The tattoo across the full length of his abdomen is a lone man on a motorcycle ringed by scripted words. They are hard to read but I don’t need to read them. I know them by heart.

Afoot and light-hearted, I take to the open road,

Healthy, free, the world before me,

The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.

When I gaze up at him again he’s shirtless. Full attention on me. “I choose you,” he says. His fingertips gently brush against my cheek. “It felt like you were gone forever and now it feels like you never left.”

“It’s funny how that works,” I say.