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Malaysia, I’ve enjoyed every minute we’ve spent together. Thank you for your compassion the last couple of nights. I promise to explain everything soon. I hope you have a better day at work today. I know I will.
Ethan
Such a sweet note. He was going to make some woman a hell of a husband one day.
I sent Ethan a quick text:
This Photo by Unknown Author is licensed under CC BY-SA
Thank you, for the flowers. They truly brightened my day.
Was it bad I craved him? I longed to ride his cock every chance I got. Last night, my body shivered in his wake multiple times, then pressed up against the bathroom counter this morning. I was wet right now thinking about the view of his handsome fuck face in the mirror. His crystal-blue eyes stared into mine with the utmost lust. Focus on work, Malaysia. Not your occasional hookup. Hopefully, he wouldn’t call later. We needed a couple of days apart. Let things air out between us. I wouldn’t want him thinking I was catching feelings. I would keep my horny pussy away from him until this weekend.
Ethan and I successfully managed not to call or text each other.
Friday night, while I served a large group of guys drinks at the club, my cell vibrated against my waist. I darted into the corner, retrieving my cell from my tiny black apron, reading the text.
Hello Malaysia,
#OH Saturday at 6 p.m. after I get off work.
Hello Ethan,
#OH Saturday at 6 confirmed. I can only stay for two hours. I’m working at the club later that night.
See you then, Malaysia.
The smile on my face was wider than the sea. He and I needed to decide when we’d stop our Occasional hookup. It couldn’t go on forever. Or could it? I toyed with the idea.
“Malaysia.”
“Yes.” I pulled my head out of the clouds, then glanced at the waitress. The colorful strobe lights danced behind her.
“You have a new table 4A in VIP.”
“Thanks, Max!”
Ethan and I fucked like rabbits Saturday evening and on and off Sunday. Upfront, I told him there wouldn’t be any dinner dates. He insisted we leave the condo and grab a bite to eat. He said ‘Do not make a fuss’ about us eating.
We strolled down the salted walk toward a restaurant up the block overlooking the harbor.
“Do you think you’re back in L.A. wearing this sweater?”
He tugged at the sweater then pulled me into his arms.
I laughed. “I admit hopping in and out of luxury trucks every day I’ve gotten a little spoiled. So sometimes I wear a sweater or a wrap. When you said we were going out to dinner, I thought you meant we were driving some place.”
“Nothing’s wrong with a brisk walk. You’re going to love the food. This is the best French restaurant in Boston. Sometimes, after a long shift, I pop in and eat dinner by myself.”
My smile dropped. “Why do you eat alone?” I roamed his sexy, chiseled face.
“Because I don’t make time to talk to beautiful women. You fell into my lap. I lucked up.” The cold air expelled from his lungs as we walked along the beautiful harbor.
I trembled in his arms and blew warm air into my hands.
“If I’m not working one of my two jobs, I’ll have dinner with you sometimes. Then again, I don’t know, you might like eating alone.”
He smiled bright. “Malaysia, I’d love to sit across from you eating dinner any-time.”
