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“I’m sorry, I was hoping to have a glass of wine waiting for you but instead—”
“I got to see your sexy naked ass.”
“Yeah, that.”
“Feel free to be like that anytime I arrive. You know how much I love you in this pink number.”
“Is pink your favorite color, Kane?”
“Calliope in pink is my favorite color.”
“Duly noted. Now, would you like a glass of wine?”
“I’d love one, but first, I need to do this.” Before I can ask what he wants to do, he grips my cheeks in his palms and presses his lips to mine. Covering his hands with mine, I close my eyes and push my tongue into his mouth. He allows me access and as they duel it out, a guttural moan builds in the back of my throat. Kissing Kane is fast becoming a favorite hobby of mine. He breaks the kiss and stares at me. His gaze full of hunger and heat. “I swear, each kiss gets better than the last.”
“Mmmhmpf,” I reply with a nod.
He kisses my forehead and then steps back and over to the open wine glass cupboard. He pulls one down—without smashing it—and pours himself a glass. Ever the gentleman, he tops mine up before handing it to me.
“A toast,” he offers, raising his glass, “to us.”
“To us,” I repeat and smile. With my eyes locked on his, I watch him take a sip and swallow. Who knew watching someone drink wine could be so sexy?
He places his wine down behind me and offers me his hand. Placing mine in his, he pulls me off the counter and my gown falls open slightly. “Are you naked under there, Sunshine?” he asks, slipping his finger under the satin and pulling it to the side, baring my breast. “You are naked under there. Were you waiting for me, Sunshine?”
“No,” I reply shaking my head. “I was waiting for my other boyfriend to arrive.”
“Well, lucky for me, I got here first.” He takes my wine from me and places it on the counter next to his. He pulls the tie on my robe and it falls open, exposing me to him. “Fuck, Calliope, I swear each time I see you like this, I’m dreaming.”
“If this was a dream, would you feel this?” Grabbing his hand, I press it to my breast. “Or this?” I slide his hand down my abdomen to cup my pussy.
“If this is a dream,” he whispers, “best fucking dream ever.”
“Well, baby, it’s about to get even better.”
Slipping the gown off my shoulders, it flutters to the floor leaving me naked before him. He’s still holding his hand between my legs, I was hoping for a little more action, but the night is still young so I take things into my own hands. Dropping to my knees, I make quick work of his pants and free his cock. His glorious rock-hard cock. The tip glistens, begging for me to lick, so I do. Leaning forward, I open my mouth and suck the tip before sliding his shaft deeper into my mouth. He hisses from above as I begin to bob my head back and forth, taking him deeper and deeper each time. He threads his fingers into my hair and begins to guide me. Leisurely, he pumps himself in and out of my mouth before pulling me off him.
“As much as that is amazing, I think you need some attention too, Sunshine.”
Shaking my head, I lick my bottom lip, his gaze traces the movement. “I’m good, I’ve already pre-gamed, therefore, this is all about you.”
“You pre-gamed, eh?”
“Yep, now, let me finish your warm-up and then you can take me to bed for the grand finale.”
“As you wish.” He thrusts his cock back into my mouth and I finish what I started.
We grab the bottle, our wines, his pants, my robe, and head into my room. We snuggle on my bed together and until the wee hours of the morning we drink wine and chat about anything and everything. We don’t make it to the grand finale, but I still had an amazing night … and morning. I woke with Kane between my legs and with a slight delay, we finally made it to the finale before Kane had to sneak out and head back to his place.
Later that afternoon, I’m in the kitchen making lunch when there’s a knock at the door. Fern still hasn’t come home from her sleepover but she has a key, so I don’t think it’s her. When I answer, I see a delivery girl with a large, shiny black gift bag held between her fingers. “Are you Calliope Fischer?”
“That’s me.”
“This is for you.” She hands me the bag, smiles, and walks away.
“Thank you,” I shout after her. She waves over her shoulder and climbs into a nondescript van and drives away.
Walking upstairs, I place the bag on the counter and look inside. All I see is pink tissue paper and a notecard. Picking up the card, I turn it over and read.
