She spins around seductively. And by the time I’m fully undressed, I’m rock hard. “You wore those for me?” I grab my swollen dick. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
She unhooks her bra and tosses it behind her, and then she slowly slides her G-string down. When she steps out of it, she closes the gap between us. In one swift move, I lay her on her back. Thank God I put everything away this morning. My desk is clean, clear, and ready to be saturated with her juices. I take a minute to admire her. Spread out on my desk, waiting for me. Her body is perfect. Always has been. Damn, I’ve missed her. I kiss her neck while my hand slides down her thigh and between her legs. I circle my tongue around her nipple, and maybe it’s just me, but it tastes as sweet as honey. She gasps when my fingers tease her. “You’re dripping.”
She replies by pushing herself towards my fingers. And when my finger reaches her swollen bud, she moans loudly. I place a hand over her mouth. “Shh, someone might hear you.”
Her heavy eyes meet mine. She’s wiggling underneath me and moaning loudly underneath my hand. My stare grows intense. I know she’s close. I remove my hand and place my mouth next to her ear. “Come for me.”
She grabs a hold of me and bites down on my shoulder to muffle her scream. Her juices trickle down my hand. This is erotic at its best. I nudge her legs open and slide in with ease. I pause. There’s no way she can feel this good. But after the first stroke, I’m proven wrong. Because she does feel that good. She holds on to me tightly as I stroke her. The desk rattles underneath us. It’s only been a few minutes, but it’s all too overwhelming. Her moans. The scent of her consuming my office. The way she fits me like a glove. “I might not last, baby.” I’m a man. I have pride. You could even say I have an ego. So, of course I try my best to last as long as I can. After all, it’s my duty to make sure her pleasure comes before mine. But at the rate things are going, I’m not sure I’ll be able to do so.
Her moans become louder. She squeezes me harder. “Oh… Jasen!”
I feel her pulsate around me, and my ego goes out the window. Along with my pride. I come. Hard.
We stay in position for a few minutes. I remove the strands of hair stuck to her face. “You are by far the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
I kiss her one last time before I pull out of her. I walk into my bathroom, grab a towel, and hand it to her. I watch as she cleans herself. Suddenly, I don’t want her to leave. I want to go home with her. Spend the day with her in bed. But I have an important meeting I can’t miss. “I have a meeting this afternoon. How about afterwards, I take you shopping? Get you that Louis Vuitton bag I made you return, or anything else you want.”
She doesn’t look as happy about the idea as I thought she would, but she agrees. “Sure.”
Chapter 9
Morgan
My eyes almost bulge out of my head at the prices I’m seeing. Jasen got home around three, and we decided to go to Rodeo Drive and some other expensive mall he wanted to take me to. The average piece of clothing is over five hundred dollars, and that’s for a T-shirt. A freaking T-shirt! The shoes are over a thousand dollars a pair. And the jewelry is especially expensive. The stuff isn’t even all that nice. I’ve seen better designs at H&M and Fashion Nova. I’m out of my element here. But Jasen thinks this makes me happy. So, I go along with it.
“That’ll look good on you,” he says as he observes me holding the beige Burberry trench coat.
I grab the price tag and almost choke. “It’s over four thousand dollars.”
“And? That’s less than the two you have in the closet now.”
I place the coat back on the rack. I can’t take this anymore. I’m about to lose my mind. Monroe really had it good. While I was back in Philly, struggling to make ends meet, she was buying designer things. And she wants to give it all up. Or maybe she doesn’t. Maybe Cooper buys her whatever she want’s just like Jasen does. “Did you hear me?” Jasen asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“No. I’m sorry.”
“I said get the coat.”
“No. Like you said, I already have a few. I was just browsing.”
“Okay. So, where to next?”
I don’t want to be here. Monroe said she shops a lot. She said that I can’t be any different. But I can’t bring myself to do it. The thought of buying any of these expensive things makes me nauseous. I won’t force myself to do this. “Let’s go to the nearest antique store?”
He looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. “Antique store?”
“Yeah.”
He crosses his arms. “Monroe, I don’t think you’ve ever set foot in an antique store in your life. You hate those places.”
She used to love them when we were kids.
“I know, but I want to do something different for a change.”
He looks around the store reluctantly. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.”
Now, this is more up my alley. As I stroll through each aisle of the antique store, a feeling of nostalgia sweeps over me. It reminds me of Grandma Rose. Of home. She used to drag us to these places all the time as kids. I hated it at the time. I hated waiting for hours while she picked up knickknacks and old albums. I thought these places were for old people. After all, those were the only ones shopping there. And it smelled funny. Monroe loved to go. Not because she enjoyed antique items. Because she liked to get into trouble. She would run through aisles and hide. She would knock things over, blaming it on ghosts. She picked up everything, even though Grandma Rose said no touching. It wasn’t until Grandma Rose died that I saw the treasure in antique stores. I would go as a reminder of her on days when I missed her the most. Every item has a story, and I would spend hours dreaming of what those stories were.
“You know, I thought you were joking when you said you wanted to come here.”
“Nope. I actually like antique stores.”
“Since when?”
“Grandma Rose used to take us.” If Monroe doesn’t want to tell him, I’ll tell him for her.
“I know you must miss her. Even though you barely talk about her.”
“Yeah. I do.”
“So do I. She was like a grandmother to me.”
She was. Grandma Rose adored Jasen. She thought he was the perfect gentleman. And right for Monroe. But she didn’t necessarily think Monroe was right for him. She used to say it all the time. Monroe was too fast for any man worth having. I spot an old typewriter and rush towards it. “I’ve always wanted one of these.”
Jasen watches me with confusion. “You have?”
I don’t write. But I like the way they look. I’ve always wanted one just to have for decoration, as bad as that sounds. I check the price tag and smile. “This. This is what I want.”
He chuckles. But when he sees I’m not laughing, his expression grows serious. “You want this. Not a pair of designer shoes. Or a designer bag. But… this?”
I grab his hand. “You said I can have anything I want. Well, this is what I want.”