Page 7
Monday . . . I’m going to have her taste all over me.
I STILL CAN’T GET OVER my workout session with Kyan on Saturday. His amber eyes watched me as if he wanted to taste me and I loved the way his sexy lips spoke to me. His voice is so strong and seductive. Doesn’t he realize what he does to a woman?
I haven’t seen or spoken to him since. My phone goes off and a text from an unknown number comes through; maybe that’s about to change. The words make it clear that Kyan has taken down my number from the front desk. You would think that in an upscale building like this they would be stricter on the privacy of their tenants.
Kyan: I’ll see you in 3 hours. Apartment 1020. Wear something comfortable or nothing at all. ;)
I stare at my phone for a second before responding. I said I was free to photograph today. How does he know I’m not busy for the next four or five hours? He’s demanding, and oddly I find it refreshing and sexy.
Me: Very funny. I’ll definitely be wearing something . . . and I may or may not be free at seven. You’ll know if I show up.
I get an immediate response as if he was already typing out his message before I even replied.
Kyan: I’ve got everything you need. Just bring your camera.
Not bothering to respond, I smile to myself as I set my phone down on the living room floor and continue to unpack the box I’m working on. He’s so certain that I’m showing up, so there is use in fighting it. Three hours will give me enough time to finish unpacking, eat, and take a quick shower.
Tori and I spent most of yesterday at the Miller Wedding, but came home late and got a lot of unpacking done. Luckily, we’re down to about four more boxes. Thank goodness!
“Hey woman!” I yell.
Something comes flying at me from the kitchen. “Do you really have to yell? I’m like ten feet away.”
I look beside me at the spatula now lying on the floor. I pick it up and toss it back in the kitchen. “I’m starving. What do you want to do for dinner tonight? We can go downstairs to the bar. The food smelt pretty good when I went there on Friday night.”
“Sounds good to me. I just want some really good chicken wings. I don’t really care where they’re from.”
I pull the last DVD from the box and shove it onto the shelf. “Mmm. That sounds really good right now.” I push the empty box aside and go to join Tori in the kitchen. “What’s left in here? If I don’t eat within the next hour I will cry. I’m that hungry.”
Reaching above her to place some plates in the cabinet, she tilts her head back and turns it to the left of her. “That box right there. It’s full of all the stupid pans. That’s the last box for the kitchen.”
“Good. Let’s just finish the kitchen, go eat, and then we’ll finish the other boxes before I take off for my shoot.”
Tori freezes from reaching into the box and spins on her heels to look at me. I may have forgotten to tell her that little detail. “What shoot?”
I shrug my shoulders at her while ripping the tape off the box of pans. “Kyan . . . the guy I met at the bar on Friday.”
“Yeah.” She pushes my shoulder. “Go on.”
Ignoring the fact that she’s standing directly over my shoulder like a damn creeper, I start putting the pans away. “He’s my personal trainer. A local author asked him to be on her book cover and he asked me to photograph him.”
“What!” She shrieks. “You get to photograph this cute, good smelling guy that you didn’t kiss and you didn’t even bother to tell me about it?” She slaps me in the back of the head with a whisk.
I whip my head in her direction with my mouth open in shock. “You, hooker. You just hit me.”
She hits me again, but on the shoulder this time. “And you kept something from me. We’re even.”
“You think at least,” I say barely above a whisper.
She looks down at me now holding a wooden spoon. “What was that?”
I grin up at her. “Nothing. Let’s hurry up so we can eat. Being hungry is brewing a love/hate relationship with you.”
“I second that,” she mumbles. “So stop talking so much and work.”
I TOSS MYSELF DOWN ONTO my bed with a full tummy. Dane was downstairs at the bar and he recommended the garlic wings and garlic wedges. HOLY shit they were delicious! I don’t know who the chef was, but I so would have kissed him if he showed himself. He didn’t, so I settled with kissing Dane on the cheek since he was only the one that suggested them.
Rolling over flat on my stomach, I look down at my phone to check the time. We stayed down at the bar longer than expected. I have less than forty-five minutes before I have to be at Kyan’s.
His words, wear something comfortable, run through my head as I stand in front of my closet. Maybe I should just surprise him and go with his second option: nothing at all.
I laugh at the thought, trying to picture his face if I were to show up like that. I wonder what would happen. Would he throw me across his bed and give me the best fucking of my life, or would he laugh at me and send me home to put some clothes on? The second thought gives me a sinking feeling in my stomach.
That would be humiliating.
Standing in the shower, I start to picture the first option: him coming to his door and let’s say . . . shirtless. Yeah, that sounds good. He comes to his door shirtless, wearing only a pair of snug fitting jeans.
Closing my eyes, I start to touch myself, slowly massaging my clit. I’m surprised at how sensitive it feels already.
He notices me standing in his doorway naked, so he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his apartment . . . or maybe he just tosses me over his shoulder like a caveman. He does seem a bit on the rough side.
I start to rub myself harder and faster as more thoughts and scenarios of Kyan run through my head. It doesn’t take long before my legs become shaky and I find myself holding onto the wall, panting as my orgasm washes through me.
“Oh wow. Oh wow,” I repeat, breathless.
A stupid grin tugs at my lips as I lean my head against the shower wall. It’s been a while since I’ve experienced an orgasm that quick. It sometimes can take up to twenty minutes. That’s no fun.
I jump when I hear the toilet flush. “Shit!” I poke my head out of the shower door to Tori washing her hands. “What the hell? How long have you been in here?”