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I can hardly believe it.
All those thoughts, all those fantasies, all that madness over the letter…
And it’s come true, all of it.
She is my destiny-sent angel.
I sit forward, looming up, staring down at her. “We got lost at sea and my parents drowned. I floated for a week. A week, Maddie. Think about that. I was nine years old and I had no food. I had just enough water to stop myself from dying. Clinging onto a bit of debris as I floated under the sun, my skin blistered and my mind disappeared into itself… A week of hell, but a week that left such a firm impression on my young mind I couldn’t help but write it down.”
I trail off when I realize I’m almost yelling, my voice swelling up from some dormant place inside of me. I haven’t felt an emotion so deeply for years, so far-reaching, but something about Maddie is stirring me to life.
Everything feels closer to the surface, sparking hotly, as though any second I could burst into flames and take her with me.
“What I mean to say is,” I go on, forcing some semblance of calm into my voice, “you’re not rubbing it in my face. Because it really did help make me become the writer I am. So get that crazy thought out of your head. Okay?”
She giggles when I offer her a smirk. It’s a giggle that goes right to my cock, causing me to swell even more. That’s one of the reasons there’s so much tension in me – that my jaw is so tight, my eyes flaring, my muscles pulsing.
Everything she does – every word she speaks, every tiny tic of her expression – is causing a whole world of torment in me. The tip of my member is bulging, precome surging up my length, making my underwear goddamn sticky. There's so much of it.
“Okay,” she says after a pause, looking down at her coffee.
“So how is your novel going?” I ask. “I work from a plan, but—”
“I know,” she says, with that cute-as-fuck quirk to her smile.
I pause. “Sorry?”
“It’s just… I know you work from a plan. Sorry.” She giggles again, which part of me wishes she’d stop doing. It’s making it difficult not to maul her. “I’ve been a fan of yours for so long. I have to keep reminding myself of what I know about you and what I don’t know. You know?”
She laughs again, making my heart spark as though powered by lightning.
“Okay, Maddie, say know one more time,” she says out loud.
I chuckle. “Do you often talk to yourself?”
“Isn’t that part of being a writer?” she shoots back, without hardly any pause at all.
My balls throb and heat travels all over my body, compelling primal heat, the sort cavemen must’ve felt before they tackled their women to the underbrush and fucked their futures into them.
There’s sassiness in her expression, just a shred of it, but enough, a hint.
A hint at a whole different aspect of her personality.
“I’ve heard that too,” I manage to say, trying for casualness but coming out sounding like I’m on the edge.
Which is fitting. Because I am. Very on the goddamn edge.
She picks up her coffee and blows on it, pursing her lips in a way that makes me think of her perched on the end of a bed, looking up at me with wide excited eyes.
I imagine bringing the swollen helm of my manhood to those pursed shy lips, slipping inside of her as her moans become more and more unhinged.
Telling her to reach down between her legs and rub at the wetness there, keep rubbing and rubbing until she’s shivering and quaking and can’t hold herself back anymore.
Feel her orgasm through her pressure on my cock, through the way her lips quiver around my length. Feel it sizzling up and down, from my tip to my base and back again.
And then – only then – would I bend her over and slip inside of her, my manhood soaked from her mouth, her pussy soaked from her release.
“That’s delicious,” she murmurs and then laughs lightly.
“What is it?” I ask.
“The coffee, duh.”
There it is again, that sparkle of sassiness, a hint at the real Maddie hiding behind her mask of shyness.
I chuckle and shoot her a look. She shoots me a look back, confidence warring with nervousness, dancing across her expression.
She knows I meant, What are you laughing at? But she can’t resist teasing me.
Goddamn, I love it.
“I was just thinking of something my roommate once said. Kelly. Well, my roommate and my best friend.”
I think of the woman I saw leaving her apartment and I want to roar in frustration, roar at myself for being a goddamn idiot.
Why didn’t I think of that?
“I called coffee delicious once and she said I was a weirdo for describing it like that. She said delicious should be strictly reserved for food.”
