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We both cry into the release, sharing it once more.
Giving in to pleasure, giving in to each other. Going way over any lines that may have been blurred between us.
As I look at her I’m not sure those lines actually existed.
Last night she said I talked like I’d always wanted her and I told her I did.
Nothing is truer than that.
Chapter Thirteen
Mimi
My God…
I think I finally lost my damn mind.
How could a person get so lost in emotion?
I never knew until last night that it could happen to me.
I’m so wrapped up that I don’t want him to stop touching me for fear that reality will drag me back to face all that I fear.
I press against the hard wood of the table as he pulls out of me and grabs a wad of kitchen towel and starts cleaning me then himself too. He’s not looking at me though. Not like before.
I know it’s because he’s thinking the same, that we can’t keep this up.
He wants an answer.
An answer to the enhanced version of the question he asked me before.
Will I be his.
He adjusts his boxers, covering himself up, still not looking at me. While he goes to the bathroom to dispose of the tissue I shrug back into his shirt and move to the living room. I go to the window and crack it open slightly to get some air.
The cool breeze comes in but it’s not enough. The damn heat is too much. The heat from the weather and the heat from us.
The heat now from his fingers as he slips them around my waist. It burns through the soft cotton of his shirt.
He turns me to him and I gaze up into his handsome, handsome face.
The handsome, handsome face of the man I’ve gone to the edge of ecstasy with and I don’t want to go back to reality.
“We need to talk, Mimi. I won’t start this day without your answer. I’m damn serious,” he demands.
That’s the part that conflicts me. If I feel like this, then I should just give him a chance. It should be easy. The fucking restaurant shouldn’t come into the question.
“Is this the way you want me to be with you? Holding something I want over my head so I’ll be with you?” I ask and he doesn’t like it.
“That is irrelevant. The other way didn’t work. This is the way it’s gonna work. I own the restaurant. You get the whole damn fucking thing if you give me a chance,” he replies.
“Doesn’t it bother you that this will be like some contract I’m being forced into?” I throw back.
He surprises me by smiling. It’s not a smile of humor though. It’s more of a sneer.
“Babygirl, we’ve been fucking since last night. Nobody’s forcing you to do a goddamn thing. You hopped on my cock all by yourself. Might have given you a hand once or twice, could be three times, I lost count. There was no force.”
His crass words make my whole body burn. He’s right though.
