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CHAPTER EIGHT
Jay
After I hit the garage remote, I wait for the door to shut before jumping from my four-by-four and making my way to the shower. I’m happy she didn’t notice the bulge growing in my pants while I was working her. I’ve always had patience. It helped me through many things in life, but Simmi might be my Achilles heel.
It took everything I have not to go ‘fuck it’ and take her right there. I’ll need to prepare myself for Friday, but right now…
I strip off my clothes and head to the bathroom. Playing it cool these last three weeks has taken it out of me. My dick is tired of my hand and my hand is tired of wanking, but hell, it’s all for a good cause. And that cause is to make Simmi see for herself just how much she wants me.
The water is lukewarm and soothing. I close my eyes, pretending it’s her. Remembering the soft mewling sounds she made when I touched her, ate her, and fucked her. My grip tightens and my balls harden as I imagine sliding inside of her and spilling.
I step out and dry myself off. My dick’s still sporting a semi. I need a run.
It’s almost eight and I finish off my last set of bench presses. The run was great, but I needed more. A kookaburra sits on the railing of my porch and stares. “What’s up buddy?”
It cocks its head, opens its beak and lets rip its famous call but doesn’t move. I trot indoors and open my fridge. I shouldn’t, but what the heck. Knife in hand, I cut a slice of last night’s steak and throw it out to the bird, which swoops down, grabs it, and flies off.
“It’s a pleasure,” I call after it.
Moving to sit on the steps, I listen to the crash of the waves. South Africa will always be my home. Its beauty unparalleled, but it’ll never hold the freedom Australia does. Sad, but true. Cheryl was never keen to immigrate. She did me a favor cheating on me. Now if she’d only sign those damn papers.
I don’t understand why she’s dragging her feet. I’ve left her the house, the cars and a shit ton of money. She made it clear she wanted nothing more to do with me. I’ve even threatened to change the terms and leave her with nothing if she holds off signing any longer.
It’s been three years since I left Simons Town, the seaside town of my birth. I left everything behind and started fresh in a small rural town on the west coast of Australia before moving across to Queensland. At the time, I’d believed I’d never commit again or even feel more than a singles night attraction for a woman. Not after what Cheryl did to me. I look back to that part of my life and wonder just what the fuck I was smoking when I married her.
Peeling off my sweat soaked trainers and shorts, I trot down the steps and to the side of the house. One of the best features of this rental is the outdoor shower. It’s got a Bali grass screen with a crude drain surrounded by roughly cemented pebbles and an absolute kick ass view of heaven. My neighbors are far enough away, and there’s brush, scrub, and bits of tropical forest for privacy.
The cool water falls from the shower head and over my body. The sensation immediately conjures an image of Simmi, naked, her caramel skin glistening in the moonlight. Shit! I look down.
“Thought you were done for the night,” I whisper to my hard on.
I can’t keep wanking my way through the day. I force my thoughts away from the woman I can’t stop thinking about. It’s not easy as I stand there, willing the water to soothe my muscles and calm my mind.
I’ve never fucked like I have with Simmi. With a slap I close the tap and shake my head. I will make her mine.
***
“You look like a cat whose been fed cream.”
Myrtle grins as I walk into the clinic.
“Just glad it’s Friday.” I step behind the counter and busy myself with a few files.
Yes, it’s Friday! I’ve kept my distance from Simmi for most of yesterday. But today, we’ll be stuck in a car together until this afternoon.
“I’ve packed your ‘out’ bag and the files are on the counter beside them in the storeroom.”
Myrtle swivels around on her chair. Her gaze says she can see right through me, but her tone and her expression are bland and professional.
“Thanks, Myrtle. It’s much appreciated.” I smile and stalk off down the passage.
“There you go.” Simmi’s voice causes me to stop and look in to one of our treatment rooms.
“What do we have here?” I step inside.
A woman with a fine build and soft, nutty brown hair stands up from a chair in the corner. “Hi Jay.”
“Anna. Your boys up to mischief again?” I say, greeting the fiancé of Bondage Bay’s mayor.
