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Before he can ask more questions, I climb into the driver’s seat and slam the door.
I’m not mad at him, per se, I’m just pissed that these site visits took so long.
A glance at the clock tells me that it’s already after six p.m.
“Fuck!” I stomp on the gas as I pull out of the parking lot.
My fingers twitch to call Payton’s phone, to make sure that she’s staying put tonight. But I don’t.
Mostly because I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t answer. And a small part of me is actually hoping for her disobedience. Or rather, the consequences of those actions.
Swerving through traffic, a sweet fruity scent finally permeates my senses.The tart.
Using my knee to hold the steering wheel steady, I pick up the small white bag and carefully slide the tart into my palm.
My nostrils expand as I bring the pastry to my nose and inhale.
If I think on it,really hard, I imagine that I can smell Payton’s rose warmth, from where her hand was wrapped around the paper.
Opening wide, I shove half the tart into my mouth and bite down.
Flavor bursts across my tongue. Sweetness mixed with the tang of the cherries.
My lids lower and I need to remind myself that I’m driving so I don’t close my eyes all the way.
It’s so good.
It tastes like her.
I lick across the surface of the cherries on the uneaten half, noticing that my dick is now completely hard.
“Jesus.”
Still steering with my knee, I press my other hand down on my length.
My gaze darts back and forth between the baked good in my hand and the road ahead of me, and for more than a moment, I consider the logistics of jerking off while I fill my mouth with the rest of Payton’s cherries.
I press down harder on my cock as it throbs. And before I can do something truly ridiculous, I shove the rest of the tart into my mouth, groaning as I chew, leaving my dick in my pants.
* * *
When I finally make itto Payton’s neighborhood, I slow, stopping against the curb at the end of her block.
I hate this shit. I want to drive right up to her front door.
Well, what I really want to do is drag her out of that building by her hair and move her in with me. My big empty house has felt even emptier than ever since that night I first laid eyes on her. And the reasons for staying away from her are getting harder and harder to listen to.
I am Nero.
Feared by the underworld.
Yet here I am, sneaking around outside my girlfriend’s house like a teenage boy breaking curfew.
Girlfriend?
Jesus Christ. I’ve completely lost it.
I haven’t had a girlfriend since… Tipping my head back against the headrest, I think. Have I ever? Maybe that one girl in high school? And then there was that chick I fucked for the better part of a year in my twenties…
