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I roll my hips, pulling every last drop from him, knowing one thing.
If I ever lose Elias Finchley, I’ll need to join a vibrator of the month club.
There could never be another man for me.
* * *
Elias
“I’d pullone of those romantic gestures where I carry you to the shower to clean you up, but with my pants as they are, we’d make it about two steps before one of us had a concussion and the other was in traction.”
She smiles and lifts off me. I see what’s left of us on her and go caveman for a minute.
“It’s almost creepy, Elias… You staring at my pussy.” Bright throws her hands on her hips and lets her sass shine.
“Baby, there’s lots I find sexy about you, but this—” I swipe a finger through the evidence of us—my cum leaking out of her—and trail it up her mound. “This is the sexiest thing I can think of… aside from you.”
I continue to trace and play, moving my fingers through her wetness—our joining—and spread it over her, until I feel my dick start to swell. “Yeah, I better get you cleaned up, darlin’. Otherwise, we’ll be in for round two or twenty-two. And I owe you dinner.”
“Well, don’t leave me hanging.” She sashays away from me, calling over her shoulder. “Round twenty-two sounds divine.”
I hear the water flip on, and she’s under the spray before I can get into the bathroom. I clean up and make certain not to look in the direction of the shower and fight not to peek in the mirror to see her.
“You coming in?”
“Not today. I do that, and you’ll be sated but starving. Take your time. I’ll be over here master— ordering dinner for the two of us. Anything you want?”
“Just not pizza.”
I slip out of the bathroom, order for delivery, and head to her kitchen to figure out drinks.
In a moment of who-knows-what, I slip her panties from the living room floor into my pocket and spend a moment with Luna. She spent our fuckfest in Bright’s room, peeking her head out once, only to think better of it and leave again.
Bright enters the kitchen in shorts and a tank, her nipples visible through the thin fabric. Her hair is wet, and she has on no makeup. I’ve never seen her more beautiful.
“Once I got in there, I couldn’t not wash my hair. It smelled like the bar last night and bad decisions.”
“We need to talk about last night.”
“Nothing to talk about. Anyway…” She trails off as if that’s that.
“I was wondering about Johnny Cash. What got you down?”
She stiffens, averting her eyes, and makes herself busy.
“Brighton?”
Nothing.
“These are the easy questions, darlin’. Would you rather I start with why you think you need to resist me? Or why you had tears in your eyes when I sang Luke Combs? Better yet, why were you crying the last time I was here? Why did you ghost me for three months? We’re covering it all tonight. So?” I lift a bottle of tequila and one of vodka as if to offer her a choice. “Or there’s hard seltzer in the fridge…. What are you drinking?”
“Depends. What did you order for takeout?”
“Giovanni’s.”
The look on her face says more than she knows. It’s her favorite. I know it. Now she knows I know it.
“Then I’m drinking vodka.” She walks to the cabinet near her old refrigerator and pulls two tumblers down from the shelf. “Ice?”
