“Sunshine?” Her happy voice echoes. “Where you at?”
There is something entirely gratifying in knowing that, whenever Sophie comes home, the first thing she does is seek me out.
“Your grammar is appalling,” I call back, fighting a smile; there’s something anticipatory about withholding the full scale of my happiness. I let it build as she tromps up the steps.
“You don’t want me for my grammar,” she says near the top of the stairs.
“Your tits and arse definitely rate higher.”
“Feel free to show them some appreciation.” She stands in the doorway to our room, blue sundress rumpled, the rosy light of sunset slanting through the wide widows and illuminating the gold of her hair.
I’m struck speechless, my breath cutting short.
I am not a poetic man, but I want to be one now. I want to do justice to her beauty and the way she fills me with a strange mixture of utter peace and demanding need.
It’s always this way with Sophie. I look at her and want to simultaneously hold her close, cherishing her as though this is our last day alive, and tumble her onto the bed and fuck her until my cock chafes. Which is rather perverse, I suppose.
Doesn’t matter. Not when she’s looking at me as if she wants the same. But then her sweet face pulls in a frown.
“You’re working.”
Hard to deny when I’m holding a contract in my hand. “Just a bit of light reading.”
While Sophie was in town, I went for a run. The second I returned, I downed a protein shake and took a shower before lounging in the bed in my boxer briefs and reading over a contract. I don’t classify this as work per se since I’m only skimming.
Sophie appears to disagree.
Her hands go to her hips. “I should have searched your bags for contraband. You’re supposed to be relaxing.”
“Forced relaxation is an oxymoron.” I go back to reading said contract because I know it will stir her up. I fucking love Sophie stirred up. The results are always naked, sweaty, and in my favor. “Besides, this is a standard contract, nothing too involved or detailed.”
A sigh rings out. “What am I going to do with you?”
Fuck me. I have needs. “Come to bed and read something alongside me?”
She takes a step in my direction but halts. “You’re wearing glasses.”
There’s a strangled note of lust in her voice that kicks my own into overdrive. I don’t look up from the contract. “As one does when one needs reading glasses.”
“Smart ass. I’ve seen you read plenty of times, and you’ve never worn glasses.”
“I have contacts. But my eyes are irritable today.”
I suspect this has something to do with going down on Sophie in the pool this morning. It had been an experiment of sorts, figuring out just how long I could hold my breath. We laughed and applied ourselves to the task with much enthusiasm.
“You should always wear your glasses while reading,” she says, heading my way. “And I mean always.”
Did I know Sophie would react favorably to my reading glasses? No. But by the wide-eyed, slightly dreamy look in her eyes, I’m fairly confident she appreciates them. I’m man enough to admit I want to entice her.
She sits on the bed, and her warm thigh rests next to mine. My body goes on alert, but I don’t let it show. Not yet. That’s not how our game is played.
God help me if I no longer had Sophie to play with. It is one of the best parts of my day.
“You know,” she says, trailing a finger along my kneecap, “there’s this Tumblr. Hot guys with glasses…”
“Don’t even think about taking a picture.” I pretend to ignore the way her touch sends a ripple of lust straight to my cock. A lost cause. And I know she sees my growing interest. Her path heads upward.
“What about hot guys reading? They even made a book. You’re definitely cover material.”
I glare at her over my glasses. She’s giving me that saucy look, her head tilted just so, those ripe lips pursed. A band of hot greed tightens low around my gut and gives a swift tug. My cock rises hard and fast.
Sophie licks her lower lip, never breaking eye contact with me. “You’re not playing fair, sunshine.” Her voice goes husky. “I can’t take that silent reprimand, combined with those glasses. You’ll have me combusting over here.”
“Hmmm.” I turn my gaze back to the contract, as if I’m not tight as a fucking drum. The reward will be much greater if I make her work for it. “I fail to see how this is my problem.”
“Oh, no?” The bed creaks as she crawls closer.
My cock throbs in time to my heartbeat and pushes uncomfortably against my pants.
“You’re the one affected,” I tell her. “Best you do something about it.”
Her low chuckle ripples over my skin. The silk of her hair tickles my chest as she eases under the papers I’m holding. Yes, love, step into my parlor.