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I laugh at myself, grim and low when I realize what I’m doing.
Thinking about my apartment so I don’t have to think about this scorching need inside of me, this burning that rises and touches every single part of me.
My manhood is pushing firmly against my pants, so hard my tip is tingling, throbbing as I think about how she’ll look when she’s bent over, looking at me over her shoulder, pushing back so her plump perfect ass—
Knock-knock.
Boxcar lets out a little yap, running for the door.
It occurs to me, as I walk on shaky legs toward my woman, I haven’t asked her if she’s okay with dogs.
“Maddie?” I say, pausing on the other side of the door.
“Yes?”
Goddamn, there’s that cute quirk in her voice, all shy and yet somehow sassy at the same time, all spunky and adorable as hell. It makes me want to punch through the oak material of the door and coil my hand around her hair, pulling her toward me, crushing her in my embrace.
“Are you okay with dogs?” I ask.
“Yeah, of course,” she says. “I love dogs.”
“Great.”
I pull open the door and immediately Boxcar darts forward, yapping happily as he runs around her ankles. Maddie makes an aw noise and walks into the hallway, kneels down, and runs her hands over his fur.
I stare at the two of them, feeling like I’m watching my future take form right before my eyes.
Maddie gives Boxcar her complete attention, stroking her hands up and down his squat body, making cute noises as she tickles him behind the ears.
This is a preview of what she’s going to be like with our children – all this love pouring out of her, all this casual devotion, as though of course she’s going to give everything she has to give.
My gaze darts over her outfit and an entirely different feeling takes over.
The evening is warm, the setting summer sun flooding through the windows and lighting everything up.
Maddie has chosen a flowing dress, the sort that settles against her curvy body like mist, outlining the shape of her.
Her hair is free, cascading luxuriously around her shoulders.
Writing.
I roar the word in my mind, trying to remind myself.
“He’s so cute,” she says, finally standing up.
My heart gives an unusual flip – the sort of thing only Maddie makes me feel – when I see Boxcar trailing after her, smiling.
“What’s his name?”
“Boxcar,” I tell her. “Because of his fur color. And because of his shape.”
“Aww, it’s perfect.”
She shifts her bag’s strap in the ensuing silence, causing her dress to move around her cleavage, pulling sideways slightly to show me a tempting glimpse of those ample plump breasts.
Turning away abruptly, I nod toward the living room.
“I thought we’d work on the balcony since the evening is so warm. If you don’t mind?”
“No, whatever you like,” she says.
Whatever you like.
Fuck.
She might not be saying things like that if she knew what I really wanted. If she knew it’s taking every shred of willpower I possess not to bend her sweet ass over the kitchen island and bring my hot precome-soaked dick to her hole, her young perfect innocent slit.
Gritting my teeth, I lead her across the living room, toward the glass door that leads to the balcony.
“This place is amazing,” Maddie murmurs.
I turn to find her standing in the middle of the living room, turning in a small circle as she drinks in the sight of the bookshelves. That’s what her eyes are drawn to immediately – not the large television, not the expensive furniture.
The bookshelves, the books.
A vignette strikes me, me and my woman sitting in my study together, side by side as light rain patters against the window and warm candlelight makes her flushed cheeks shimmer.
“Have you read all of these?” she asks.
I nod. “Yes, yes I have. I tend to disappear into reading for weeks at a time. It’s one of the privileges of having so much free time.”
“That’s crazy,” she murmurs, shaking her head as she walks toward me. “But then I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re such an amazing writer. It’s no wonder you read so much.”
There’s only one thing I’m interested in reading right now, and that’s my woman’s lips as they twist in pleasure, as she writhes and trembles against me.
I wave my hand. “You can choose any books you like, Maddie, and they’re yours.”
Her mouth falls open. “Are you serious? Because that’s a dangerous thing to say to a girl like me, Madden. I love reading.”
I move close to her as Boxcar settles down, sitting and smiling up at us. It’s only his doggie eyes that stop me from reaching out and palming her breasts.
The closeness of her body is like torture to me, and I wonder if I should’ve asked her to meet someplace else, someplace less private.
