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Good.
I can handle attitude Lola.
I can’t handle sweet, soft Lola.
That Lola, I have no fucking clue what to do with.
“Fuck yeah, I am.”
“You just broke my door down!” Her hand is off my cheek, pressing my chest.
That’s fine. I don’t want sweet Lola right now. Now that the adrenaline is leaving my veins, I need fire. The rest of the world might get sweet Lola, but I get fiery Lola.
And I think I like her best of all.
“What did I tell you?” I ask, the hand on her chest pushing her into the wall.
“Excuse me?”
“I said, what did I tell you, Lola?” She doesn’t answer. “Let me remind you, sweet girl.” My face goes to her ear, and I speak the words there. “I told you when you were done with work to be a good girl and come next door. I told you you’d be sitting in my booth until I was done, and then we’d go back up to my place and I’d fuck you. I told you we were spending the night in my bed again.” A shiver rolls down her spine, a shiver I can feel in my palm. “But you didn’t. Fucking. Listen.” Her hands push on my chest, and I move back, just a few inches, so I can look at her.
“I don’t do what you ask, Ben. I barely know you.”
“Bullshit.”
“What?”
“You know me. I know you.”
“You don’t know me, Ben.”
“I sure as fuck do. I know you’re sweet when you want to be, and you’re so fuckin’ stubborn that you’d rather put yourself in danger than do theone fucking thingI asked you to do to be safe. I know you spent too fuckin’ long taking care of everyone but yourself, and you have no fucking idea what to do when someone else wants to take care of you. That person beingme,Lola.” Her eyes widen. “I know you spent a few weeks trying to be quiet in the mornings so it wouldn’t wake me up, but I was still an ass because you’re under my fuckin’ skin. I know you listen to shit music—” She cuts me off.
“No, I don’t!” Of course, that’s the part she protests.
“I know you’re protective over your shit music,” I say with a smile. “I know you liked calling me Daddy when I was fucking you.” Her breathing shallows, and her eyes go dark. “I know there’s at least one time when you’ll willingly be my sweet, good girl,” I whisper into her ear then pull back to land my final blow. “And I know you made yourself come thinking about me,” I say. Her eyes go wide with panic.
“What? No, I—”
“I came up here terrified something bad happened. But you didn’t even know you’d sent me a text. Breathing hard, wearing your sweet pajamas all askew.”
“I—”
“Your fingers tasted sweet, babe.” No response tothat one. “You know how many times I’ve jacked off thinking about that? You coming with my name on your lips.” My nose dips, running up her neck and stopping at her ear lobe, pulling it into my mouth. My teeth bite hard, making her breathe in quick. And then her breathing goes heavier.
She fuckingwantsthis.
“How many?” she asks, breathy. Her eyes are closed, and I move the hand on the wall to her hip, pulling her into me until she can feel my hard cock.
“Every fucking night.”
“Ben,” she breathes. My hand moves up, up to her neck. My fingers tighten on the sides almost imperceptibly, but she notices. Her eyes open. They’re heavy with lust, want, and need.
“Every night, I think about what would have happened if I’d come up a few minutes earlier, caught you in the act, fingering yourself and moaning my name.”
Like always, this woman surprises me.
“What would have happened?”
