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“Where did you learn how to fish?”
“My grandfather. He would pick me up in the summertime and take me out here.” He chuckles. “He told me the only way to a woman’s heart is to know how to cook.”
“He’s right.” I smile.
When he finishes cooking the catfish and potatoes, we sit on the couch, devour the food, and watchThe Hating Game.
He folds his arms across his chest.
“This movie is cheesy.”
“You’re cheesy.”
“Take it back.” He tickles my stomach and pins my hands above my head, and I laugh out loud, wiggling away from him.
He kisses my forehead. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but I like it.” He snuggles his face against my breasts.
“You make me feel like there is hope for me, you know with me being not attractive anymore.”
He glances at me, annoyed. “Why do you say mean shit about yourself? Don’t speak about yourself like that anymore. I’m sick of that shit, Lake.” His tone is firm.
Tears well in my eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m used to people speaking badly of me, so I try to beat them to the punch line.”
“Your scar is unique and pretty.”
He kisses my scar and so many emotions rush through me, and tears slither down my cheek, and he kisses every tear away.
“I’m going to show you how beautiful you are to me.” He kisses the back of my neck, and a shiver snakes up my spine as my heart beats frankly in my chest. “I’m going to show you what I see.”
He gazes into my eyes, then he leaves trails of kisses up my neck and to my mouth. He kisses me deeply and with need, then he pulls away. “You’re so beautiful and you don’t realize it. I’m not speaking about you making my dick hard, I’m talking about how beautiful you are on the inside.” He tips my chin as I gaze at him. “When I look at you, I don’t see an ugly person. I see you, Lake. All of you.”
Tears fall harder down my cheeks like a river. He unbuttons my shorts, and slowly pulls them down, exposing my cotton panties.
Fear bubbles inside of me, but I’m ignoring it. He removes my panties, then rubs his nose against my inner thigh, and arousal creeps inside of my core.
“I don’t want to ever hear you refer to yourself as ugly again,” he states, before his places his mouth onto my clit and slides two fingers inside of me.
My moan echoes off the walls as he digs his nails into my hips, securing me in place so I won’t move. My heart picks up speed, and my core swells as he works my clit fast.
Happiness floods my chest, my core clenches around his fingers, and my toes curl. He removes his mouth from my clit and shoves his tongue inside of me, licking my cum. Once he finishes, he smiles, and brings me into his arms, resting his head on top of mine.
Maybe we can try to make this work, after all.
I walk through the doors of my work building with a smile plastered across my face. I’m not going to lie, but I dreaded coming in. I didn’t want to come back to the city, and I wanted to stay wrapped up in my little cocoon with Atlas. Being in the lake house was one of the best choices I made in a long time, and I needed the break. I needed to clear my mind and ponder over my future. Well, our future. I wanted to speak to Atlas about our relationship. He makes me feel beautiful and wanted.
After he ate me out, I expected him to pull away, to shut me out, but he didn’t. He’s been a gentleman, respecting my boundaries, and not trying to have sex with me, but I want it with him. I want us to try and make it work. Despite me having my reputation on the line. I don’t want to look back on my life when I’m older, thinking what if. My mother always told me to take chances in life, and if it doesn’t work out, then at least I know I tried. He’s giving me so much more in return, he’s giving me hope that we have a shot at something real.
I make it to Atlas’s desk, and his legs are crossed as he types on the computer. His eyes meet mine, and I melt into a puddle of water, and my pulse accelerates. After all this time, he still makes my heart skip a beat, and he’s picking up the pieces of my broken heart. When I put his coffee on his desk, I sit across from him, watching the muscles beneath his crisp dress shirt flex, and my mouth waters at the sight. Images of his gigantic hands on my breasts as he kisses my stomach and the way he eats me out flash through my mind.
He clears his throat. “You okay, Boots? You were daydreaming.”
I clear my throat and straighten my spine. “Of course.”
I juggle the iPad in my hand. “What do you need?”
“You.” He pats his leg. “I miss you.”
I blush. “We saw each other last night.” Heat creeps up the back of my neck. “We’re at work, Atlas.”
