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But the truth is, and it’s not something I can tell her just yet.
I could literally just sit and watch her all day and all night.
She could be watching TV or doing what she’s doing now, creating and assembling, repairing intricate wedding garments. It wouldn’t matter.
The shape of her breasts through her hoodie, those hard nipples poking through when she moves a certain way.
The way her hair falls in front of her eyes sometimes and she blows it away without taking her hands off her work.
The look on her face when she’s concentrating.
Fuck.
I think they have a word for this kind of thing, don’t they?
More like three words.
Those three little words that nobody’s ever said to me my whole life.
I feel them now, on the tip of my tongue every time I see her, every time I think of her.
It’s like those words have been saved up my whole life, just waiting for her. She’s the only one I could ever even think of saying those three words to, even if it’s only in my head for now.
It’s too soon to tell her though, I’ve already crossed so many lines today. I don’t wanna risk ruining it now by getting all mushy, telling her exactly how I feel.
I’m still under the spell of her body anyway. I’m glad I’m sitting down, trying to disguise this non-stop pole between my legs from distracting her from her work, but after an hour or so it’s all I can think of.
Burying myself deep inside her, watching her face this time as she comes even harder on my cock.
Filling her with our babies.
That’s when I’ll tell her. That’s when it’ll mean the most.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, not looking up from her work and only breaking the long silence as I sit undressing and fucking her in my mind.
I’m tongue-tied for the second time in a day, and it’s only her that can do it to me.
“You really wanna know?” I ask her, not even trying to hide my grin and watching as her breath catches. Savoring the tremor that runs through her whole body once she realizes there’s only one thing I’ve been thinking about since meeting her for the first time, let alone sitting here for an hour watching her work.
She doesn’t look up from her work.
“Funny business,” I finally inform her. Letting her join the dots in her mind, letting her imagine the things I am.
She doesn’t change her expression straight away, but once she finishes the section of the dress she’s focused on, her coy smile lets me know she’s thinking along the same lines.
It’s getting late, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Casually remarking that she does a lot of her work at night because it’s still and quiet.
“How can you see though?” I ask, noticing she only has a tiny lamp to work by and the little light on her sewing machine.
She shrugs, and I feel older than I want to, remembering how I’ve had to have eyeglasses fitted recently.
The details on construction blueprints just aren’t as clear as they used to be.
I can see Ashlee just fine though. No need for glasses there, and I can feel her even better right now, but having done what she needs to on her dress, she suggests we finish up on my suit jacket.
Damn suit.
“How do you get most of your regular clothes?” she asks, gnawing her lip before toying with the end of a pencil in her mouth as she looks me over.
The professional eye of a seamstress this time. Not the yearning, horny and needful eye of a young virgin girl.
“There’s some stuff I can get off the rack,” I admit. “At those ‘big guy’ type stores, some shirts are okay. But most things I have made for me.
“Except wedding suits?” she says, teasing me a little before motioning me to stand up and follow her.
I try to wait for her to go first, but she’s waiting, facing me.
Here goes then.
I stand up, wincing a little as my hard on grates at the front of my pants.
Her gasp is well worth it though, and suddenly her eyes are on one place as she makes another little involuntary sound.
“See what you do to me?” I tell her, smiling and cocking a brow, but instead of having the desired effect, my arousal seems to make her look anxious and she takes a little step back.
“I’m not gonna force myself on you, Ashlee,” I tell her calmly. “I just can’t help it. Whenever I’m near you. It just...” I try to explain, but she seems to be caught in her own dilemmas.
“Maybe we could leave your suit until tomorrow,” she says, looking away and pretending to stifle a yawn.
I figure it might be my luck changing, but with a second glance, I can tell it’s been a big enough day for Ashlee, without feeling like she has to go all the way just for my sake.
