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Where did the day go? I had to extinguish a fire in China, then another in Italy. Both phone calls took five hours of my day, and I started at five a.m.
“Oh, shit. Yeah, just wrapping up my last email. Do you mind staying for another ten minutes?”
With Liza, she limits any pop-ins, even from the partners.
“No problem. So, what is making the workaholic in you leave before nine this evening?”
A blush covers my face because I can’t say my thoughts are innocent when it comes to Xan when I finally see him again. It’s not been quite a week, but a day is too long without him in my arms.
She doesn’t push, and with her large smile, she waves me off. “Oh, no words needed. Glad to see you’re taking some time for yourself.” She’s out of the room, and I hurry with the status including the final number on the buyout with one of our top client’s new acquisition. Proofing my letter, I’m done and as I power down my computer for the weekend, I take a quick look at my phone. I’m running later than I wanted, and though I’d rather save money, tonight I’m ordering an Uber, or so I think until I open up the app and see the Friday rush hour is living up to its name.
Fuck! Well, if I get home by seven, I’ll still have a half hour to tidy up, light a candle or two, and put in an order at the pizza joint below my apartment.
Turning off the light, Liza is still at her desk. “Thanks for holding down the fort. But, I’m heading out.”
Her ruby-red lips tell me she’s just getting started for the night. “Great, I’ll walk out with you, boss.” Pulling for her purse, we’re out of the building in less than five minutes as we part ways heading to our specific subway stations.
I search my phone for the entire ride to my stop. I’m reading through this week’s texts with Xander. I’m still amazed at how I’ve fallen in love with the man who I always hated. I’m ready to slam his body against the walls, maybe even break a few pictures because I can’t wait to manhandle him and let him manhandle me.
I cross the threshold to my apartment after putting in an order for a large lasagna, bread sticks, and a Caesar salad. I worked past ten p.m., but I still did most of the cleaning last night. I changed my sheets, vacuumed, cleaned the bathroom, and sanitized my counters and sink. I run up the steps leading to my bedroom I’d organized so he’d have space to hang his suits and unpack his clothes. Being here for a week, I want him to be comfortable. Clearing out two drawers, and getting a toothbrush holder for two, along with some new towels were just the first things I could think of.
I had groceries delivered Wednesday night and I bought a few fancy bottles of red wine, something I’ve seen Xan drink on several occasions. After all, we’ve been in each other’s lives for twenty years. He loves apples and grapes and fresh mozzarella cheese along with cherry tomatoes. I don’t cook often but Ma sentseveral easy-for-me recipesand I’ll try my hand at some home-cooked meals.
As I’d been unpacking the groceries a couple nights ago, something hit me. I never did this for Jen. I made sure we always had Diet Dr. Pepper in the house, but that was a given. I never knew what her favorite wine was, and the girl drank plenty of it. In the past two years, I can think of three meals we shared in our apartment. We were two ships crossing in the night and I can’t remember the last time I wanted to spoil her. But to be fair, Jen never bought me my favorite beer or even knew what my favorite pizza topping is. How is it that in the many years we were on and off, always in each other’s lives, we never cared to find that out about the other?
I have SportsCenter turned on as they talk about the upcoming draft. There’s a specific college quarterback who has left his school early to declare for the draft. But the front office thinks he’s too small, standing just over five feet ten inches tall. No wonder our football team sucks! I may live in New York now, but I’ll forever be a Minnesota football team fan.
I sit down with a beer when someone knocks on my door. The lasagna must be early. I open it, but instead of our dinner, stands my man. “Xan,” I say as if I wasn’t expecting him at all. He’s early, but I don’t care, reaching for him, he extends his hands to me. I tug him flush to my body, and before I realize it, we’re kissing one another. With his foot, he must shut the door, and before I can slam him into the wall, he beats me to it. It’s the one thing I love about being with a man—I won’t unintentionally hurt him, and he can’t hurt me. His hand reaches for my athletic pants, and he pulls away, a cheeky grin on his face. “Oh, easy access I see, Farmer.”
My phone is in my pocket, and I pull it out, hitting a programmed number. “Hold that thought for a second, babe.” The person on the other end answers. “Mama Santori. Can you keep my food warm for me? I’ll be down in a while to grab it?” I wait for her reply. “Grazi,” I return and end the call and throw my phone to the couch.
“Where were we, babe?” I ask.
“Right here.” His hand breaches the waistband of my bottoms, and he lands on his knees, pulling them down with him. “I was just about to blow you. How about that?”
My fingers reach his head, as I comb through his short blond locks. “No complaints here, babe.”
His tongue circles the tip of my cock and I breathe in, barely able to control myself. I may just come right now. His spare hand travels around my waist, as his fingers circle the outside of my hole. I drop my head against the wall, the loud thud never breaking Xander’s concentration. “You taste so good, baby. So fucking good.” He leans off and smears my precum on his free finger. He moves his other hand around to my ass and uses the lubrication of my precum to finger me.
“Oh, yeah, please don’t stop. God, I missed you.”
“Yeah, Farmer, I’m just getting started.”
His eyes shift up to me, and in them, I read lust, want, and need. “What do you want, Xan?” I ask, his finger in my ass and his hand stroking my cock.
“I want every part of you, baby. I want your body, your mind, your soul. I want it all with you.”
He’s put into words my own desires, too. “Take it, Xan. It all belongs to you. Take it all.”
My fingers stay in his hair, and when his mouth lingers on the tip of my cock, I let out a needy groan. I need him to take it all and give it all to me.
Long and slow thrusts of his mouth work up my dick. His finger inside of me pushes against my p-spot and I may just lose it in his mouth. He slows down, with methodical strokes all while playing with my balls. I begin to quake and he stops every type of stimulation. He’s not being mean; he’s taking it all from me. And I willingly give it to him.
His eyes turn up to mine again. “I’m going to fuck you so slow tonight. When you think you’re going to come, believe me, you’re not. It’s just the beginning. You and I, this is the beginning, Clark Farmer.”
“Yes, baby. Please do it all. Let me feel everything that is you.”
“And when we’re over,” he continues, “take everything from me, because it’s yours. I give it all to you.”
