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“Don’t mess with me. I’m just taking her on a date. She needs to have a good time.” My waitress’s sparkling black eyes squint at me.
“You keep telling yourself that, honey.” She pats my hand and wanders off, whistling.
I sigh and serve several more drinks while keeping an eye on my girl. She’s laughing and chatting with her friends while she finishes just the one drink. Several other guys try to come up and talk to her but she shoots them all down, which makes me chuckle. They haven’t got a chance with a woman like her.
Then a frown crosses my own lips. Do I? And more importantly, what exactly do I want from the gorgeous redhead. I’ve never followed a woman around like this woman. I mean, I just spent the last week literally pining to see her in between sexy dreams of what we’d do.
By the time she leaves an hour before closing, I’m practically vibrating. I want her so bad, I feel like a world-class stalker. I want to leave and follow her home and then slam her into the first wall I find, thrust my fingers into that lush mane and kiss the hell out of those pouty lips while she grinds herself on me.
I’m so lost in my daydreams, I don’t even remember the last hour. Not until my employees have shoved everyone out the door and then turned the music up while they clean.
I turn back to my office and sit, staring at the wall and picturing fucking her on my desk. I run my hands through my hair, pulling at it ruthlessly. My cock is rock-hard and in danger of blowing through my jeans. I’m seconds from exploding without even being touched like a virgin teenager. It’s fucking ridiculous!
I shake my head and lie down on the couch in my office, hoping to catch a few minutes of shut eye before I head home. I’ve been here all day and night and at thirty-nine, I’m starting to feel these long days.
As soon as I close my eyes, she’s there, crawling across my lap and riding me on my couch, hips circling ruthlessly into my straining dick until I’m panting and gasping her name. It’s so vivid I can feel her soft hands glide down and pull my cock out, tugging and then sitting down, taking my straining member into her warm, wet tunnel. I throw my head back and moan softly. It takes every bit of control I’ve got to stop myself from jacking off to the visions. The only thing stopping me, the fact that my employees are still right outside the door.
I groan and turn over, finally dozing off but plagued by those vivid dreams all night. My favorite being when she wraps ruby-red lips around my shaft and her fingers play with my balls while she licks and sucks me to an explosive release in her mouth.
I wake in the morning, frustrated and so hard I can barely sit up without pain.
I head back home and climb into the shower. And then she’s down on her knees her eyes locked on me as she takes my cock deep into her throat and I almost drown throwing my head back and moaning.
She runs soft, little fingers down my cock and huffs as she swallows more and more of my meat down her throat, gagging and moaning.
I lock my fingers in her wet rivers of scarlet hair and make her take me deeper and deeper. I can feel her throat relaxing around me. Then she swallows and I lose my mind, thrusting into her willing lips over and over until I come down her throat and she drinks every last drop, licking her lips.
I fall into the wall, jacking my cock hard, coming in spurts and watching it run down the shower pan and into the drain.
Hopefully, that’s the last time I come anywhere that isn’t in or on her. I’m obsessed with this woman.
I’ve got to figure out how I’m going to convince her that I’m the man for her. I’ve never been a hearts and flowers kind of guy. But if that’s what it takes, she’s about to be wooed right off her feet.
I head to bed again and this time fall into a dreamless sleep, a smile on my face.
That night, I’ve scrubbed myself thoroughly again, and dressed in my only pair of jeans that don’t have holes in them somewhere, adding a pale pink button-down shirt. Splash of my favorite cologne after I shave and I’m ready.
I’ve called her and I’m picking her up in half an hour and my body is buzzing with excitement.
Thirty minutes later, on the dot and I’m standing at her door with flowers in my hand. She opens the door and her wide blue eyes jump up when she spots the flowers.
“Flowers? You don’t seem like a flowers kind of guy.”
“Well, you do seem like a flowers kind of girl.” I hand her the bouquet of medium pink roses that I picked because they reminded me of the flush in her cheeks when I tease her.
She takes the flowers and hesitates. Then she opens the door and invites me in to her space. I casually study it while she walks back to her kitchen to put the flowers in water.
“Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll just be a minute.”
She disappears and I wander around her small living room, staring at family pictures on the wall. Old pictures of a beautiful woman with long red hair and golden-brown eyes holding a little round-cheeked baby in a pink dress with a man with dark hair and icy blue eyes smiling into the camera.
She walks back into the room and I nod at the picture. “This your family?”
She nods and smiles, walking over to run a finger gently down the picture. “Yes, that’s my mother and father. Their private plane went down two years later.”
“They seem very happy together.”
“I don’t remember much. But my aunt and uncle said that they were hopelessly in love. Spent every minute together.”
