I needed something else in my head.
Something I’d chosen, something that was mine.
And no, of course, I didn’t want that to be with some random – especially not with these budding feelings I was having for Tristan.
But I also didn’t want to “wait”.
Couldn’t wait, now that I had it in my head.
This was a start, but I needed… more.
Wanted more.
Wanted… him.
The orgasm hit me very suddenly, the physiological response ripping me out of my thoughts and firmly into the moment.
The tensing of my whole body, the rush of sensation, the feeling of euphoria.
Tristan swallowing my exaltations of pleasure in a kiss.
My breath happened in soft pants as I came down from the orgasmic high, with Tristan keeping me steady as I found balance on the floor in my heels.
For a long moment, we couldn’t do anything but look at each other.
And then…
“Give me your number.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Your number,” he repeated. “You know, the specific-to-you series of digits that allows people to call or message the little device you carry around.”
“You’re not funny. Or cute.”
He scoffed. “I see a lie still don’t care who tells it, huh?”
He pulled his phone from his pocket, unlocking the screen before he put it in my hand, then gestured for mine.
So… I gave it to him.
And I put the correct number in his, too.
“You got a text,” I told him, returning the phone and taking mine back. “Somebody asking where you are. You’re probably about to get fired.”
“This is mostly a favor anyway,” he countered. “One of the regular security guys is out for a few weeks, they needed somebody to fill in. Kiara wants new clothes, so I could use the extra bread to offset to my bank account. Everybody’s happy.”
“Except whoever might be getting their ribs kicked in because security is busy finger-popping a woman who wants dick.”
He smirked. “Technically, finger-popping would require penetration, but I get your point.”
“You definitely get my point.”
“And I made you cum. Hard.”
I let out a dry laugh, shifting in my ruined panties over the reminder. “You did. And yet…”
“You’ll get your dick, damn, woman,” he fussed. “I’m just… trying to do something different here. Something… healthy. If you’ll work with me, please?”
And what about what I’m trying to do?
I thought it, but didn’t say it out loud, because honestly… now that I was in some kinda post-orgasm high… the sound of it kinda appealed to me too.
And Alicia would be proud.
Probably.
“Just get back to what you’re supposed to be doing,” I said, shrugging it off.
“Does that mean you’re taking your fine ass home? Alone?”
“You’re really pressed about that, aren’t you?”
“I really fucking am,” he admitted. “Like… I was about to whoop ol’ boy’s ass.”
I smirked. “Well… you can keep your hands to yourself over me tonight,” I told him, even though… I kinda liked that energy.
Really liked it.
Which was probably not good, but whatever.
“You sure?” he asked, putting his hands at my waist to pull me against him.
“Yeah,” I nodded, then accepted the soft, quick kiss he offered. “I’m going home. Alone.”
So… I did exactly that, after we’d said our goodbyes.
I showered, and got into bed, and then, before I drifted off, when Tristan’s name flashed on my screen with a text… I smiled.
Maybe something really was going right?
“Go for a walk with me. – Neighborhood Hottie”
The already quite pleasing occurrence of Tristan texting was somehow even better now that I’d changed his name in my phone – the whole neighborhood hottie thing was quite amusing to me.
What was not amusing was this text coming through at five-something in the morning, breaking into my tenuous hold on the fringes of a good night’s sleep.
“A walk? What are you even talking about?” I texted back, planting my face in the pillow after I’d dropped the phone back down on the bed. A moment later, it buzzed again, with a message that despite my annoyance, made me laugh.
“Yes, a walk. You know… that thing you do with your feet, to get around? – Neighborhood Hottie”
“Kiss my ass.”
“You’d enjoy that way too much. – Neighborhood Hottie.”
I groaned, and stuck my face right back into the pillow to scream, because… yes.
Yes I would.
I was so fucking weak.
So… horny.
Like nothing I’d ever, ever experienced before.
That little bit of relief Tristan had given me at the coffeehouse that night had lasted all of maybe an hour before I was right back to thinking about how I could make him give me what I wanted.
And I could, definitely, make him give me what I wanted.
If only these pesky ass feelings weren’t in the way.
“So… you coming or not? I’ll be at your door in five minutes. – Neighborhood Hottie”
Wait.
What?!
I sprung out of bed, racing to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. Luckily, my silk scarf had stayed put last night, which made it easy to brush my hair into a simple ponytail.
I never did make it back to the phone in time to respond to that text – in exactly the five minutes he’d mentioned, the bell at the candle shop door rang, while I was still getting dressed.
Shit.
I jogged down the stairs in bike shorts and a sports bra, figuring I could at least make him look at what he was choosing not to have.
He didn’t disappoint.
The look on his face – the lust in his eyes – was quite gratifying when I opened the door to him holding two cups from Urban Grind.
“Good morning,” he said, clearing his throat before forcing his gaze to remain at my face. “I brought you that tea thing that you like.”
“Thank you.” I accepted the cup, and gestured for him to step inside. “And good morning to you too. I just… I was asleep when you texted, so I need a few more minutes to finish up. If you wanna come upstairs. You can keep your pants on, I promise.”
Why the fuck did you say that?
“Uh… yeah. I can come up there,” he replied. “Only since you promised.”
I’d already started up the stairs, but looked back, smirking when I realized his eyes were glued to my ass as he followed me up. “There’s plenty of things that don’t require your pants coming off, Tristan.”
“Could you not?” he groaned, and I laughed as I finished climbing the last few steps. I pushed my door open and went inside, searching out socks, shoes, and a tee shirt to complete my outfit for this…
“Is this a date?” I asked, peeking around the partition I’d put up as a bedroom “wall”. I couldn’t be sure he actually heard me – he was too busy looking around in awe.