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It’s enough to kill a man, I think.She’ll be the death of me.
Laura is a whirlwind. She’s nothing I’ve experienced before, her curiosity, enthusiasm and stamina are as fascinating as it is enthralling. I feel like I understand what it was like to be a sailor trapped by the song of a siren. She’s all I can think about, all I can feel, all I can want.
I’m not a prude or an uninterested man in general. I’ve had many great sexual partners and a few not-so-great ones. I even like sex a bit more than the average man, I’d say. But I’ve never felt even a fraction of the frantic need I feel with Laura.
When I come, it’s sudden and with a shout. Her body clenches around me, warm and slick, her hips thrusting and snapping as she rides me. Her breasts slap against her sternum, her hair floating around her shoulders like flames. She makes herself come like that, on my twitching cock, on top of me, and I think that this woman could ask me for anything, and I’d give it to her, I’d beg her to take it.
For a few long, lingering moments, we just lay intertwined in bed. It takes a fair amount of time for my pulse to go back to normal. The sweat on my forehead feels hard earned, and I haveto only look at her from the corner of my eye or the affection I am pretending isn’t there threatens to swallow me whole.
Eventually, though, the morning starts to bleed into this liminal space we’re lost in. I have no choice but to sit up, stretching. Human things return: the need to piss, the thirst for water, the desire for coffee. It almost takes me by surprise that I can still want such normal things.
“We’re going to be late for work.”
I blink, looking at the clock. “Oh, fuck.”
She laughs in surprise. “I mean, not such a bad thing foryou, Mr. Boss,” she nudges me.
I lean in and cup her face. “I’ll give you a pass, too.” I kiss her. She’s still moving towards me when I pull away.
“Mean,” she grumbles.
I laugh. I feel lighter than I have in ages.
“Get… dressed.” I remember she did not have clothes here, and then add, “I can drop you off at yours on the way to the office.”
“I should have packed an overnight bag.” I raise a brow at her. She blushes. “Okay. That was a bit…”
“Domestic?”
She smiles. “A little.”
I don’t know what to say, really. There’s a war in my chest about it all. I want Laura in a way that doesn’t feel all that conducive to the life I’ve built. I want her in a way that makes me wish desperately she was a decade or two older.
I ignore it. After all, ignoring it is a safe bet, right?
I take a fast shower. When I get downstairs, dressed and professional, Laura is in the kitchen in her trench coat and somehow smooth hair again. I know she’s not wearing much underneath, and it makes my spent, tired dick twitch in attention. She’s chatting with Damon, who seems to genuinely like her. She turns to me, smiling.
“Made you coffee,” she says sweetly. She hands me a travel mug.
Damon drops her off, and we kiss on the lips—a quick peck—before she gets out of the car. I freeze, and she does, too. We stare at each other with petrified emotions before she slams the car door and runs up the steps to her little apartment.
That was… unexpected.
“Huh,” Damon says, a grin in his voice.
I point a finger at him. “Not a word.”
“I didn’t say anything, Boss.”
I grumble under my breath, but my ringing cell phone stops me from saying anything else, like confessing my newfound real feelings for Laura or firing my longtime driver.
I answer without even checking, too preoccupied by the ghost memory of Laura's lips on mine.
“David Donovan.” I look out the window as we speed past it. The city is a blur of gray and brown as winter hangs on. It’s meant to be very cold this year—I’m not sure if the kids have outgrown their spring raincoats. We’ll need to go shopping, though their mother tends to fret over their clothes earlier than I do. There’s a chance that she already got them new ones.
“What are you doing answering your phone at eight in the morning?” a voice demands from the other end of the line.
I have a moment of panic before the voice settles and I realize that it’s just Lewis. He laughs loudly, and I roll my eyes.
