I roll over and reach down to the floor without looking. My fingers follow the vibrations until I find my jeans and dig my phone out of the pocket. Sam is fast asleep beside me. Before checking my phone, I turn and look over at her. She looks as peaceful as I feel, her lips curled into an easy smile and her breath deep and even. I let my eyes fall down her body. Damn, she’s beautiful.
I sigh and click the home button on my phone and hold it up in front of my face. I’m at that perfect point of sleepiness that if I just close my eyes I’ll pass right back out. It can’t be any later than seven, judging by the light and the stillness.
Missed call. Parsons. What the fuck is he doing calling this early?
I’m debating sneaking out of the bedroom and calling him back when the phone buzzes in my hand. This time it’s a text message.
Check your bank account. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised. The rest is on its way. –JP
I sigh and drop my hand to my side. Sam shifts and snuggles up to me. Her leg slides over the top of my thigh and one hand traces its way down my chest and closes around my cock. Her touch reminds me of the night before: her sucking in the moonlight, the absolute bliss of her lips around me, my powerful orgasm as she sucks out every drop of come and swallows it all…
I sigh again and let my eyes shut, Jim’s text playing in my mind. Obviously the money has come through. Just like him to be coy. I guess I’ll run by the bank later today. But right now, I need some more sleep. And after that, maybe another romp with Sam…
***
The next time I wake the sun is above the trees and shining through the blinds. I feel absolutely glorious. I yawn and stretch my arms out to either side, my eyes opening when I feel the empty bed beside me. At the exact same moment I realize Sam is gone, I hear a clatter in a kitchen and Sam’s voice as she yelps and begins to curse to herself.
A few seconds later, she appears in the doorway.
“Hey, cutie,” she says with a grin. She’s wearing nothing but a tight, black apron. Her hair is in a bun on top of her head. She’s makeup-less, which only makes her all the more beautiful.
“Hi,” I yawn, pushing myself up until I’m seated against the headboard. Sam crosses the room, her hips swaying, and hands me a cup of coffee. I cup it in my hands, breathing deep its earthy aroma. If there’s a better way to start a day, I can’t think of it.
“So,” Sam says, reaching out and stroking the back of my neck with her fingertips. “I had a few ideas while you were asleep.”
“Yeah?” I prompt, taking another sip of coffee as I stare into her eyes. I’ve seen the look she’s giving me before. If this isn’t the beginnings of love, I don’t know what is. Is this the domestic life I’ve been missing out on?
“Well,” Sam continues, suddenly shy as she twirls one finger around a loose strand of hair. “I didn’t know if you were busy or anything this weekend—“
“I’m not.”
“Great. Well, I’m off until Monday and I was thinking, or hoping rather, that maybe we could, you know, if you’re not busy or anything, maybe…”
I hold up a hand to stop her. She falls silent and bites her lip as she looks at me with expectant, hopeful eyes. I reach out and slide my hand up her bare thigh and cup her firm ass. Her skin is as cool as ever.
“I’d love to spend the weekend with you.”
“Really?” She sighs in relief and a blush spreads up her neck. It’s so adorable I want to smother her in kisses. Who is this man I’ve become???
“What do you have in mind?”
“Not much. I thought we’d start with breakfast and then—shit! Breakfast!” She cuts herself off with a cry of alarm and rushes out of the room, her apron rustling around her naked body. From the kitchen, I hear her curse as plates clatter on the counter.
“Shit, shit, shit! The bacon!” she yelps.
She comes back a moment later, a sheepish grin on her face.
“I forgot about the bacon,” she explains. “It’s burned. The eggs too. Oh, I wanted to make you breakfast so bad!”
I laugh and push myself up from the bed and am across the room in two strides.
“Aww, baby, it’s okay,” I whisper, squeezing her tight in my arms. My hands slide down her naked back and she shivers and hugs me back.
“But I ruined it,” she whimpers, breaking away and looking up at me with some of the cutest doe eyes I’ve ever seen. “And I wanted to make you a special breakfast…”
“Really, it’s okay,” I say, pulling her back into me and stroking her hair. “I’m just so happy that you thought to make it for me in the first place.”
“But what are we going to do? Those were the last of the eggs.”
“We’ll just have to go out to breakfast. My treat. Tell me…” I hold her out from me and look at her seriously. “Do you know of a good diner around here? One where the waitresses are cute and the food is greasy?”
She giggles and wipes a tear away from the corner of one eye.
“Thanks,” she whispers. “I just can’t believe I was stupid enough to—“
“Shh,” I interrupt, raising a finger to her lips. My hand on her back slides down to where her apron is tied just above her ass. I pull on the bow and the knot comes loose in my fingers. I pull the apron over her head and drop it to the floor. She groans as I run my hands down her body and pull her into me, her head falling back as her lips search for mine. My hand slips between her legs. She’s slick between my fingers. “Don’t you worry about a thing…”
19.
Sam
When’s Luke’s done giving me what just might be the best orgasm of my life, we get dressed and hop on his bike. It’s almost midday now and hot as hell. But when isn’t it hot in this part of the world? My knees are still quivering as the bike rumbles pleasantly against my crotch. We pull out onto the country road and trace our way back to town. My pussy is still trickling my juices and his. I’m on the pill so I’m not worried about getting pregnant and I like the way it feels as his come slides down my thighs.
We drive straight to the diner, whereupon entering, Sarah squeals and rushes up to seat us.
“Hey, Sam,” she says, raising her eyebrows very obviously. Beside me, Luke lets loose a laugh. Sarah turns to him with the sweetest smile she can muster. She reaches out and strokes his forearm with her fingertips. Always the flirt.
“Good morning,” she says. “I’m Sarah.”
“Luke,” Luke replies. He shifts slightly towards me and away from Sarah and holds out a hand. With a look towards me that says ‘well, would you look at that!’ Sarah takes his hand and gives it a shake.
“It’s nice to meet you, Luke. I’m glad you and Sam are getting along so well. Tell me, doesn’t she have just the greatest body?”
“Sarah!”
“What?” she says with a shrug. “Just asking.”
Luke laughs again and takes my hand and pulls me towards a table in the far corner of the café. As we pass old Mort, he raises his head and his eyes twinkle in recognition.
Sarah brings us coffee and plates of eggs and hash browns without us even having to ask. Though she has enough restraint to leave us be, nevertheless she hovers nearby the entire time we’re eating.
“Don’t mind her,” I say, digging into the eggs. My stomach is rumbling. A hearty meal is just what I need after a fuck like that. “She’s like that with everyone. She thinks everything is her business.”
“I do not!” Sarah mumbles as she pretends to wipe down a nearby table.
“See what I mean?”
Luke snorts and shovels a large forkful of hash browns into his mouth. As he chews, I watch the muscles in his cheeks move beneath his skin like ripples on an ocean. It’s a pleasure just to look at him. I want to savor every moment I have with him, want to make sure not to miss a thing. I’m so happy when I’m near him that it’s like my mind is constantly worried he might suddenly disappear. After all the years of unhappiness I’ve had to suffer, the thought seems to
o much to bear.
When we’re done eating (Sarah never gets more than fifteen feet away), Luke pulls out his wallet and throws a bill on the table. Immediately Sarah is by his side.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she coos, sliding the bills back towards Luke. Her hand glances his and she flicks her hair back. If it was anyone else, I might be offended that she’s flirting with my man. But it’s Sarah, and I know the last thing she would do is hurt me. She just can’t help herself. “Sam and whoever she is with always eat for free.”
“Hmm, well that’s nice of you,” Luke says with a smile. His face is rugged and unshaven and the effect is intoxicating. Sarah and I sigh simultaneously. “Still,” he continues, sliding the bills back towards Sarah, “no one should work for free. Thanks for the great service.”
I’ve never seen Sarah smile so big. As she clears our plates away, she looks at me from above Luke. She nods appreciatively and mouths the words “I like him”.
When Sarah disappears into the kitchen, Luke stands and holds out a hand for me. I grab it and he pulls me up and into him.
“Okay, now that we’ve eaten…” Luke says, turning with me and striding across the café. Mort looks up from his newspaper and nods in greeting as we pass. “I just have one more errand to run and then I’m all yours.”
“What errand?” I ask. Out of the corner of my eye I see Sarah’s face appear in the kitchen window; I shoo her away with a wave of my hand and a wink.
“I need to go to the bank. Shouldn’t take longer than a second.” He pushes open the café and we step out into the bright day. With our arms around one another, we cross the lot to his motorcycle parked under a tree.
“Good,” I say, climbing onto his bike behind him. “Because I’m starting to get horny again and I’m not sure how much longer I can last before I’ll need another orgasm.”
“Trust me,” he yells over his shoulder as he pulls out onto the road and hits the throttle. “By the time I’m through with you, you’ll be so tired of coming you’ll be begging me to stop!”
20.
Sean
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.
I stare blankly at the screen for almost a full minute, until it begins to beep and a message pops up asking if I’d like to continue my session. I hit yes and go back to staring, my mouth hanging open as I read what’s on the screen over and over again.
Holy fucking shit. Someone needs to pinch me. There’s no way this is real.
I read the number on the screen one digit at a time, trying to convince myself that I’m not imagining things. Four-two-three-nine-eight-three-seven-four-point-four-six. $42,398,374.46. Forty-three million fucking dollars.
I glance around the bank, a part of me feeling like any moment some TV show host is going to pop out and point out a camera hidden in the wall. But everything is as normal as ever. Two or three people are waiting in line to see the singular teller distractedly counting a stack of bills behind a glass window. On the far side of the marble lobby, Sam is seated and talking to someone she knows in the chair beside her. Her eyes flicker over to me and she smiles.
I turn back to the screen and read the number once more. I still can’t fucking believe it. Yesterday my bank account had less than a thousand dollars in it. Today, it has almost as many digits as I have fingers.
“Sean?”
A voice sounds behind me but I’m so distracted by the number on the screen that nothing registers for a moment. When the voice says my name, my true name, again, I turn slowly from the screen to find a man standing beside me.
“Sean Hartwood?” the man asks incredulously. He looks familiar but I can’t quite place him. He’s around my age. His hair is stringy and long and pulled back into a loose ponytail. He’s dressed like a guy impersonating a cowboy—boots, tight Wranglers, a pearl snap shirt. He grins and puts out his hand.
“H-hey,” I say cautiously, reaching out and giving his hand a shake. My eyes flit over to where Sam is still talking to an elderly woman. Shit.
“Sean fucking Hartwood. How the fuck are you?” The man claps me on the shoulder and shakes his head in disbelief. “It’s been what? Ten years? You look almost the exact same. Well, except for all those tattoos and muscles and shit. What the hell have you been up to?”
“Uhh, not much…”
“Wait,” the man says jovially as he narrows his eyes. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
I glance over at Sam again and say a silent prayer. Please don’t let that old woman stop talking. If she comes over now, she’s going to find out I’ve been lying to her. I plan on telling her sometime, but everything is just so perfect right now. The last thing I want to do is ruin this perfect little bubble of ours, even if I know I’ll have to come clean eventually.
“It’s Brian!” the man exclaims, slapping a hand against his chest. “You know, Brian from tenth grade geometry? Brian McDonald. Dude, we used to smoke weed every Friday behind the gym. Don’t you remember?”
“Brian? Of course I remember.” Memories are flooding back now. Memories of tenth grade geometry, of staring at Sam seated at the front of the class. We weren’t close then. She was just someone I had a crush on from afar. It would be the next year that I would fall madly and hopelessly in love with her. And it would be the year after that that she would reject me after stringing me along for most of our last two semesters of high school. “You were dating—uhh, what was her name?—Marie. Marie Humphrey.”
“Sure was,” Brian says with a smile of satisfaction. “And guess what? I married her too!”
“Oh no shit. How is she?”
“Not sure. We didn’t stay married for long.” He leans forward and his voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “Couldn’t get my hand out of other honeypots, if you know what I mean.”
“Heh. Well, anyways,” I say, turning so that Brian’s back is to Sam. From the way Sam is shifting in her seat I can tell her conversation is about to end. “I’m in a rush today. Got somewhere I need to be. It was nice to see—“
“I’m sorry about your pops,” Brian interrupts. “Read all about it in the paper. Is that why you’re back in town? Was wondering if I’d see you.”
“Yeah, got some stuff to take care of. Anyways, listen, I really gotta get going. Good to see you, man.”
“Hey, listen,” Brian says, grabbing my arm as I move to go. “We should grab a beer some time. I’d love to catch up. I know a place with lots of beautiful women. Well, as beautiful as they get around here,” he laughs. “Let me know, alright?”
“Sure,” I say, knowing full well I’ll never get a beer with him. “You got the same number?”
“Yep,” he replies, not realizing I never had his number in the first place. “I’m free pretty much any day after work.”
“Alright. I’ll give you a call.”
I walk away before he can stop me again. It’s only when I’m almost to the entrance of the bank that I realize Sam is nowhere in sight. Where did she disappear to?
I finally find her outside, waiting next to the bike. There’s some look in her eye that I can’t quite read. She seems shaken.
“Hey,” she says with a forced smile. “Did you do what you needed to do?”
“Yep. Ready to go?” I keep expecting Sam to ask who I was talking to and have already decided to tell her it was someone who thought I was someone else. But she doesn’t ask. She merely climbs on the bike and looks over at me.
“Ready,” she says, that odd look still in her eye. “Let’s get out of here.”
21.
Sam
Damn. That was too close for comfort.
I’m watching Luke across the bank lobby when someone coughs next to me and I look up. It’s Sally, one of the elderly ladies from the church I used to attend but don’t show up to much anymore. Should have known coming to the one bank in town I’d run into someone who knows me. More importantly, someone who knows my husband. What was I thinking?
She’s a kindly old lady but is
maybe one of the worst people I could have run into. Well, besides Tim. Half the reason I stopped attending church was because this very same woman was always asking about my marriage and trying to ‘lead me’ to a better happiness. To her, that meant submitting to Tim and accepting him for his faults. Yeah the fuck right!
“Hello, Sam,” she says, her hands trembling as she drops into the seat beside me. She’s not much older than sixty but looks and acts at least twenty years older, probably from all that submitting to her alcoholic husband she did.
“Hey, Sally.”
“How are you?” she asks, her tone the one that says she knows just how I am and knows it’s bad. “It’s been a long while.”
“I’m doing just fine,” I say. “You?”
“Oh, fine, fine. I mean, my joints hurt and my arthritis is acting up, but what can you do? The doctor says that it’s a problem with my circulation. He prescribed some new medicine, but I’m just not sure. I went there—oh, you’re going to find this funny—and it was…oh, Tuesday? No, Wednesday? Anyway, I went there, had a seven a.m. appointment—you know how early of a riser I am. Early to bed early to rise is what I always say—but when I got there, the door was locked. So I pull on it and pull on it, thinking maybe I’m just pulling when I should be pushing—I never can get those doors right—and ten minutes must have passed before I realize that I’m at the wrong building! It’s 940 I’m at and I need to be at 930. Just like me to goof it up. If my head weren’t attached it would fall right off. Well, by the time I finally get to the correct place, it’s almost ten minutes after seven and I’m hoping Doctor Oliver doesn’t cancel on…”
I stop listening almost immediately. Talking to Sally is like listening to a collection of the most unnecessary words ever said played on repeat. She chatters on and on, every so often pausing just long enough for me to give a slight nod so that she can continue. While she’s telling some convoluted story about the discount she received on apples last week, I glance over at Luke. He’s talking to some guy I half-recognize, someone I’ve seen around town and in the diner once or twice.
Hard Choices: An Erotic Romance Page 8