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She sighs. “I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”
“Anything you care to share?” I say. “I can carry a lot of weight on my back.”
She laughs but her smile quickly fades. “What do you think about Jason Underwood?” she asks.
“Reggie’s brother?” I respond. “Why?”
She pokes at her hash browns and says, “I think he might have started the fire.”
I stare at her incredulously. “What? Why?”
She shrugs. “He’s behaving exactly like the past fraud cases I’ve dealt with: belligerent, pushy, dismissive of any suggestion that doesn’t lead to an immediate judgment in his favor. It feels like he just wants us to pay the judgment without looking too closely at it.”
“Well, that’s just how he is,” I say. “He’s kind of an a-hole, sorry to say. Not at all like Reggie. Still, he loves his brother. I can’t think of a reason why he’d burn his brother’s house down.”
“For the money?” Kellie suggests.
I shake my head. “He’s independently wealthy. He owns a furniture store in the city, and he makes something like ten million a year. He’s significantly wealthier than Reggie. He doesn’t need the money.”
“Hmm,” she says. She smiles and says, “I’m sorry. We’re supposed to be having fun. I shouldn’t be thinking about work right now.”
“No need to apologize,” I say. “Actually, I’m glad you care so much about finding out the truth.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Wow! That’s a significant change from the attitude you had the night we met.”
“What can I say?” I reply with a smile. “You can be very persuasive.”
We finish the meal with no further conversation about the fire but her words plant a seed of suspicion in my mind that doesn’t fade when we return to the hotel and finish our date in a mutually satisfactory way.
CHAPTER NINE
Kellie
It’s a strange thing to realize I’m an especially sexual being now. It isn’t like this is entirely new. I mean, I’m well aware that I enjoy sex and that there are both emotional and physical benefits I quite enjoy. However, these days it seems to me I find the sexual aspect of my life far more important than ever before. I don’t know why it’s so damned front and center now, but it is. It’s about the most overpowering thing imaginable for me.
My new sexual awareness can be summed up in one word. Stone.
This fireman captivates me in so many ways. It isn’t just that he fits my archetype when it comes to a fantasy man. There’s far more now. My fantasy man is limited by my mind, and the things I come up with when thinking about him. Sone, though, surprises me. I never consider how the fantasy man might raise an eyebrow when I say something that’s just wrong. Who would think of that while masturbating? Lots of thoughts come to mind about Stone that the fantasy man will never get.
Like how damned good he looks just stepping out of the shower. Oh, I suppose the fantasy man might get that if I ever fantasize about it but not yet. Not now. Right now, I’m on my bed wearing just a tee shirt and pajama bottoms, ready to watch a movie or something with Stone. Like always, the first thing he does when he arrives after work is head to the bathroom for a shower and now, he’s in front of me in a towel reaching for his pants.
“Leave them,” I say.
He looks at me and I say again, “Leave them.” Then, in case he doesn’t understand my point, I lift my shirt up and over my head, tossing it to the side. His face twists into a happy grin and he pulls at his towel so it falls to the floor. I have my fingers in the waistband of my pajama bottoms but the sight of him is too much for me and I pull them away and roll off the bed. In a second, I’m on my knees and I have my mouth on him.
Does it make me weird that the smell of the soap kind of thrills me? I don’t know… It just adds a kind of domestic aspect to things. We don’t live together although we see each other at least four or five times a week, I guess. We don’t always end up at my place, though. Fresh from the shower as he is, it feels more like a permanent thing, though.
Permanent.
God, I’m a fucking idiot. I slide my mouth from his now hard cock and look up at him. In all of my dreams, the idea of saying what I say while there’s a dick only an inch or two from my face… Well, as much as I won’t be passing this story down to my children, I say what I say. “I love you.”
His eyes grow wide, which is plenty terrifying given the already kind of stupid way I decide to declare my love to him. Then, it’s all made perfect when he says, “I love you, too. Head over hooves.”
I feel my heart leap with joy and it’s a damned good thing his cock is only a few inches away because I remember to get back to what I’m doing. I don’t know if I’m more romantic now as I go about the task but at least in terms of what happens inside of my mind I am. I guess I always think of blowjobs as something I’m doing for the guy but suddenly this blowjob isn’t just a nice thing. It’s an… God, who the hell thinks this way? I can’t help it. It’s an expression of love. That’s right. Feminists call me out, but I’m sucking his dick as an expression of love.
And Stone is definitely loving it. He moans and then takes hold of my head. He’s a bit firm and maybe I might dislike that without the mutual declaration that just occurred. Right now, though, I like it and I move aggressively deeper, moaning. Then, I realize his intention isn’t to take firm control of the blowjob. On the contrary, he pulls me back and then lifts me up, all but throwing me onto the bed and almost growling as he does. I gasp as he climbs and then thrusts into me.
“Oh God, Stone!” I cry out.
