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What is wrong with me! What has she done to me?
Her pussy has to have put some kind of spell on me because I want to drown in it.
Live in it.
Goddammit, I’m getting hard just sitting here.
I adjust myself as I lean back in my office chair. I twirl the tip of my beard as I sit at my desk where I’m supposed to be working, but instead, I’m thinking of her. She was more than I could ever have imagined, and I don’t like the idea of her not being in my bed tonight. We never made it to my bed, where she came without me that time. I fucked her against the wall, ate her against said wall, and smacked her ass as she went to take a shower. She then walked out of my place on noodle-like legs with a PB and J sandwich and a wicked little grin on her face to head to work with the boys.
Leaving me alone.
One thing I used to love being, until she came into my life.
I groan, dropping my head into my hands as my heart battles my brain. In my brain’s defense, my heart has been dead for a while. And really, why are we listening to that thing? He failed us when it came to Peppa. He believed she was the one, but really, the one for her was whoever was around to fuck her and pay for her family. I was never her one. I was her cash cow. Clara wouldn’t do what Peppa did. She’s a good girl.
Jesus above, what am I thinking?
Clara is young. She probably only wants to fuck.
She doesn’t want forever.
Especially with a fucking tool like me.
Someone who leaves all the time and has thirty guys to take care of. Someone who failed at one marriage and couldn’t keep the person he loved. I bet she wants kids, and I don’t want those. Not in this world. Especially when I don’t know how long I’ll be around for them. I’m not the guy for Clara McDavid, but why do I want to be?
It’s her smile.
I want to be on the receiving end of it daily.
Fucking hell.
I groan again as I run my fingers through my hair. As I rub my scalp, I can’t help but remember how it felt to have Clara do the same. How her dainty yellow nails dug into my skin in such a pleasurable way. Jesus Christ, I have to see her again.
Reaching for my phone, I open our text thread.
Me: What are your plans for tonight?
She answers right away.
Clara: Not sure. I guess I don’t have any.
Me: You do.
Clara: Yeah?
Me: Yeah. I’m making you dinner.
Clara: Well, okay then.
Me: Okay then.
Satisfied with that, I go to put my phone down, until another text sounds.
Clara: So you want to see me?
Me: Baby girl, you know that answer.
Clara: Maybe I want to hear you say it.
