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A thousand things run through my mind in an instant, but I tell myself it has to be Krystal.
It better be.
I’m still hard as fuck and half-naked but I don’t care. The more she gets used to seeing me like this the better.
The more I hope she starts to see reason.
To realize that I’m what she needs, and she’s what I’ve been waiting for all these years.
I’ll have to tell her that before I tell her who I really am. Tell her I need to claim her as my own before I go out of my mind altogether.
Pulling the front door open, I’m glad it is her.
Gladder still when her eyes grow wide as she takes in what I have on show. Some of it I can control, like maybe putting on a shirt. But the rest of me?
I’m confident she gets an eyeful of my arousal too as I help myself to the are you kidding me amount of mail, seeing the owner of the house’s name for the first time too.
How anyone could confuse me for this guy…
Krystal seems to sway on the spot, her mouth dropping open, making me wonder if she’s okay until I see her eyes.
It’s the look I want to see in them.
An urgency in them, something to stem the flow of her own arousal, to set it right by releasing it properly.
To claim her as my own.
I can’t keep doubting it, this girl is ripe for the plucking and I’m wasting time by trying to convince myself otherwise.
It’s not just her eyes I notice. She’s changed her hair a little and she smells better than before.
Maybe I’m just seeing a different side of her for the first time.
Or maybe she’s gone home thinking about more than coffee and come back looking ready for what I know she needs.
Something to stir more than her coffee with.
I need to do two things, get this mail out of sight, telling Krystal it’s the owner’s mail, which isn’t a lie. And two… Get a shirt on or just grab her and do what I know we both need to.
But there’s something off with that idea.
Not here. Not in this place. It just seems so… not me.
Not us.
I make my way back upstairs, fumbling for one of those T-shirts, my hardness pressing into my stomach as I bend down, making me want her even more.
I thump to my knees, groaning, my hand hovering over my zipper again, my mouth forming her name.
Wanting to call her up here to help me with something.
You need to tell her something else first, Blake. One thing you aren’t or never want to be is a liar.
Dammit!
I slip on the T-shirt, which fits me a little too close for someone who’s trying to hide something but it’s enough for now.
I’ll go downstairs, we’ll have coffee and we can talk. I’ll explain it all. Tell her how I feel and ask if she wants to go to my house instead.
My real house, not her neighbor’s house. Mine.
Hers too if she wants it.
Making my way downstairs I find Krystal in the kitchen, leaning against the countertop looking like she’s just run laps.
I don’t ask if she’s okay now. I can see we both have a similar problem, although I can see that mine’s a little more pronounced than hers.
“I think coffee’s a great idea,” I hear myself tell her, moving closer to take the jar on the counter.
Ugh. Instant. We really gotta do something about this girl’s situation.
“Blake?” Krystal stammers, chewing her lip and breathing fast. Shifting on the spot like she can’t decide whether to keep her legs closed or apart.
Her bottom half looking like a pair of scissors opening and closing.
“I… I…” she whimpers, swooning again as I move closer, ready to take her into my arms.
Enough is enough. It’s time I took charge here once and for all.
I watch her get closer as I move towards her, reaching out for her, my hand taking hers and gently pulling her to me.
I lean down, feeling her hand tremble and the pulse in her neck pound like the vein between my own legs.
I guess there’s nothing else for it. I’ll kiss her, then tell her.
Then I’ll stake my claim good and—
We both stop.
Frozen.
There’s the sound of bells. Chimes, whatever.
Her cell’s ringing and the other one?
It’s that doorbell again. Fuck.
Who could it be now? I know who it isn’t.
“I gotta take this. It’s my dad,” Krystal gasps. Almost looking relieved like she’s been saved from her own animal instincts.
Me? I’m none too happy about it, but I’d rather deal with whoever it is at the door now than when I’m balls deep in my Krystal.
I leave Krystal to her phone call, figuring this must be the part where it all comes undone.
Her dad will talk to her and it’ll be clear she’s picked up the wrong guy at the airport.
