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When I say toys, I mean his Lexus.
His other baby.
“Listen, I’m not a car enthusiast like yourself, but when are too many cars too many cars?”
Noah keeps his eyes on the road, shifting gears as he drives up the steep street.
“You can never have enough.”
“But explain to me again why you want to look at the house with the four garages when you only have one car?”
“Correction… I have a motorcycle, too.”
“Okay, so that’s two.”
“And there are the boat and jet ski...” he trails off.
“You have a boat and a jet ski? What else have you been hiding?”
The corners of his mouth lift. “Nothing yet. But I do love water sports.”
“Well, I’m English, so our water sports consist of watching crazy-minded people
swim the English Channel. I also should sort out my own car soon. Care to go shopping for me because I couldn’t think of anything worse.”
“A mini-van? Because you know, once we actually have kids, you’ll have to cart them around to soccer games. Living the mom life.”
I keep my smile fixed. Noah enjoys pushing my buttons just to goad me. That much is evident when I see him side-eye me with an annoying smirk on his face.
“You know, maybe, I hear soccer moms get bored with their workaholic husbands. Always away at the office. Before you know it, I’ll be binge-reading romance novels when the kids are at school waiting for the plumber to arrive,” I tease, watching his face fall. “Oh, wait, or is that a carpenter? I can never remember who wears the short shorts with the tanned-colored work boots.”
“Okay, jokes over. I like you in the office where I can keep my eye on you.”
I lean back in the seat with a satisfied smile and admire the large houses we drive past.
I’ve only been here for a few days when Charlie springs on me a place not too far from hers which just came on the market. They are motivated sellers, something about a nasty divorce and a wandering pussy. Charlie’s words—not mine.
Noah agrees, but the only time we can fit it in is today during lunch. It should’ve been a quick trip if Noah didn’t insist on taking a detour because he claims he’s suffering blue balls.
Despite my arguing that not only did we have sex for four straight hours last night, we also snuck in some anal in the shower this morning. He continues to amaze me with his stamina, something I thought I could keep up with but clearly, I’m drained. Adjusting to the time zone becomes more problematic than I thought, my body still on Parisian time. Nevertheless, he got the blow he desperately craved on some abandoned street near a hiking trail.
Noah pulls up to the house as we hop out of the car and greet the realtor.
The house is privately gated, English Tudor nestled within the historic Santa Monica mountains. It has six bedrooms, five baths, large living areas, plus a gourmet kitchen. Noah holds my hand as we walk through, and I bite my tongue to stop myself from commenting on the wainscoting.
There’s a large study area should either one of us need to work from home. The more I see the property, the more I fall in love with it.
The realtor takes us to the master bedroom, where our eyes are immediately drawn to the tacky mirrored ceiling. I turn to look as he does the same.
“You would think,” I whisper. “If you had these mirrors, the wife’s pussy didn’t need attention elsewhere.”
Noah bows his head, chuckling softly beside me. “It’s awful, but I think it’s the selling point of this house.”
I nudge him with my elbow, knowing all too well that if we buy this house, Noah will not take them down.
Outside is a sprawling backyard with a luscious green lawn, a large pool with spa on the side, a basketball court, plus striking views of rolling hills and scenic mountain ranges, making it the perfect location.
“So, what do you think?” the realtor asks, looking hopeful.
