“I’ll be there soon.”
I head back to where I parked. The night air assaults me as I mount my bike and I feel instantly sobered. I eye the traffic ahead. Red taillights glow for miles. I turn onto Fairfax a little too sharply and almost lose my balance. Maybe I shouldn’t be driving? I keep the speed low throughout the short ten-mile ride making the ride easy and manageable. When I come to a screeching halt at a light, I think about Kimberly—how I felt about her. I really did have feelings for her, but I lost sight of them when I thought I’d have Dahl again. Yeah, it was shitty of me.
A sudden twinge of guilt floods me for all the women I’ve been with since I’ve seen her last. I swallow it down and try not to think about it as I enter the elevator of her swanky Mediterranean-style apartment building. But when I knock on the door the guilt returns. The moment she opens it, I forget about everything. She looks fucking beautiful. A slinky dress, no shoes, hair down—gorgeous.
I grin at her as I lean against the door.
She stares at me for a long while with a blank expression on her face and a glass of Sangria in her hand. I bow my head, wondering if she’s going to invite me in.
“Hi,” she says very softly.
My eyes snap to hers. “Hi, yourself. You look amazing.”
I take her hand and kiss it and her smile widens.
“Are you going to stand out there all night or do you want to come in?” she asks.
“I was just waiting to make sure I was welcome.”
She moves to the side and I figure out she’s not wearing a dress, but a silky nightgown. Her tits protrude against the tight fabric and I’m instantly aroused. I step in and when she crosses in front of me to close the door, I lean down and kiss her cheek. When I do I smell the lemon slice wedged on the side of her glass. She doesn’t pull away, so I slide my mouth to hers and lock our lips together. I taste the sweet flavor of sangria on her lips and I pull her closer to me. A sudden surge to devour her overtakes me. She feels so soft and tastes so good.
Lifting my head, I glance around. We’re standing in her living room and a large purple sofa is only a few feet away. Soft music and candles surround us as the feeling of seduction fills the air. With my hands on her hips, I walk her backward and her free hand tangles in my hair. We reach the sitting area, and with my eyes locked on hers, I can tell her pupils are dilated. I look around and see a bottle of wine, a plate of oranges and lemons, and a clear glass pitcher with a small amount of red liquid left inside it.
“Are you sure I should be here?”
“Yes.”
I grin at her and she smiles back. She circles her fingers around the rim of her glass and picks up the lemon wedge. She sucks on it and drops it inside. My dick throbs at the sight. I take the glass from her and set it down on the table. She watches me with labored breaths—her stare capturing mine. As I straighten, I notice her lips part and, unable to hold back, I seize her mouth so that I can taste her sweetness, practically wanting to devour her.
When I flop us down on the sofa she breaks free of my lips.
“You’ve been drinking,” she remarks, pulling away. But her tone is anything but accusatory.
“So have you.” I point to the bar.
She smirks. “I have. Do you want one?”
“No, I’ll just taste it from your lips,” I answer, and let my mouth find the sweet spots down her neck I remember she always liked me to kiss.
“I’m in a really bad place right now,” she breathes.
“That makes two of us.”
She dips her head back. “Then maybe we can help each other out.”
“Ummmhmm . . .”
“I know about everything that happened to you. Why didn’t you ever tell me about it?”