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She’s wearing the same black dress from the night before, with my leather jacket thrown over it. The way the jacket hangs down halfway to her knees, the sleeves partly covering her hands, is incredibly endearing. It reminds me how much smaller Sabrina is. She’s vulnerable, more than she would want anyone to perceive.
I like the way my jacket looks on her. I like that she chose to wear it again.
“I thought you left,” I admit.
Sabrina pauses in the process of opening up the brown paper bag. She looks at me, her expression serious.
“Would you have been disappointed if I did?”
I could play it cool. Shrug, or say something callous like, “Your loss.” Instead, I answer honestly.
“For the first time ever … yeah. I would be.”
She fumbles with the bag, removing a couple of pastries, laying them on a clean napkin on the bed. Color stains her cheeks, the same dusty rose of her lips.
“I was just taking Kylie down to her cab—I didn’t want her to have to do the walk of shame alone.”
Catching her wrist, I pull her toward me.
“There’s no walk of shame when you’re shameless.”
Sabrina laughs.
“Not everyone’s as evolved as me.”
I take her face between my hands and kiss her. Her skin is warm from the morning sunshine, her mouth tasting of coffee and vanilla. We’re standing in the wedge of light pouring in through the glass doors. It illuminates the edges of Sabrina’s skin, like she’s filigreed in gold.
When we break apart, her eyes sweep down my naked body. She lets out a snort of amusement.
“That didn’t take much, did it?”
There’s no hiding the effect her kiss has on me. My cock juts straight up between us, fully hard and demanding attention.
Sabrina slides her hand softly up and down its length, her fingers light and cool, my cock throbbing against her palm.
“Hm,” I grunt. “That feels good.”
Sabrina gets that look of mischief I’m already coming to know so well. She keeps running her hand up and down my length, light and teasing, making the head ache each time her fingertips dance over it.
“What feels better …” she says. “This? Or this …”
Dropping to her knees, she runs her tongue all the way from base to tip. She lightly mouths the head, enclosing it within those pillowy lips, flicking at it with her wet, soft tongue …
The groan that wrenches out of me is all the answer she needs.
I’d like to spend the next several hours doing exactly this, but mindful of the activities of the night before, I stop Sabrina, saying, “Let’s get in the shower. I need to clean up.”
“I’d rather swim,” Sabrina says. “It’s a gorgeous day, I don’t want to be inside.”
“You don’t have a swimsuit,” I point out.
We skinny-dipped last night, but it’s full daylight now, and the deck is visible from the beach below.
“Who gives a shit?” Sabrina says.
She slips out of my jacket, laying it carefully over the back of a chair. Then she shimmies out of her dress just as easily, letting it fall in a puddle on the floor.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the look of her naked. She’s got a body like a Maserati, sleek and exotic and expensive.
