Chapter 6

Despite no sign of Pete again the next morning, my shaky hand tugged the bathroom door closed. With a soft sigh, I leaned against the side of the window to gaze down at the rosebushes and his basement windows beyond. Although the lights were off, as I slipped a finger beneath the tight lace over my pelvis, I was already inside his home. Focused, measuring, assessing, amused, Pete’s gray eyes were watching my every move before his camera.

“Oh!” hissed from my clenched teeth.

A jolt raced through me when my nail skimmed my stiff button. With another sharp intake of air, I shot my other hand out to clasp the window frame. One more nudge, a further pulse, and a stronger sway moved my body as I remained fixed on Pete’s dark house.

“Oh, mmm. Oh, f-fuck.” As my fingertip sped a little faster, I gulped. “H-how could h-he, oh, stay ... Mmm, stay s-so hard, like, umm, that?”

During the photo shoot, he must’ve been aching. And yet, he never hid it. Nor did he ... He didn’t shrink. The whole time. At least Bobby had me. When a second digit glided along my first, my mouth sucked inwards. My swifter rubbing drew lengthier sighs from my shaking lips.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, mmm. Did he ... D-did he take care of himself?” With a third finger now buried and racing, I bucked against the window frame, desperately gasping for air. “Like this, hmm? Oh. Oh. Oh. God.” With my pulse hammering, the universe flared, then faded. “Oh. Oh. God. A ... A monster like that.” My dampened palm flew up and down, mashing my fire button. “H-how much ... How much, um, could he launch?”

To muffle the first scream, I shoved my other fist between my lips, smearing the lipstick I’d just applied. As my body shook, slamming into the wall, all my soaking digits pressed in deeper. Another muffled cry. Then one more. When at last I’d crumpled to my knees, with my head leaning on the sill, I slid my dripping fingers free.

After bringing them to my mouth, I lay there in a daze, roaming my tongue over each between quiet slurps. Through my dangling tresses, I stared at Pete’s basement while devouring my sweetness. Except in my mind, it wasn’t only my juice being licked. It was stronger. Yeast smelling, powerful, masculine. And thicker.

Once I’d risen to my shaky feet, I re-applied the makeup and fixed my hair before staggering from the bathroom. A silent, bunched form, Bobby slept as I headed out to work.

While the earlier pleasure had helped, I still couldn’t resist mashing my thigh against Jake at the morning meeting. When he pressed back, I flicked him a tight grin. Nothing was said. It was a simple touch. But even that had been a mistake. At his eyes widening, my core, still frazzled, jolted.

After the last speaker, we rose to exit. When Jake stopped short to let a pair of coworkers pass, my boob shoved into his shoulder. Oh, fuck, my tight nipple shot a blast of energy so deep into me my knees wobbled. While nobody but him caught the whimper from my lips, his eyes looked as if they would burst from his head. Poor thing.

Poor thing? Him? I was a wreck. Only those brief touches had my body jangling and the world blurring. I struggled to make it to my office. By the time I crumpled into my desk chair, both nipples ached, the one he’d felt and the other with sympathy cravings.

It was a long afternoon.

After a speedy departure from the office, I raced home, slowing only near a cop beside the road, shooting radar the other way. As soon as he’d disappeared in my rearview, I pushed the engine once more until I screeched to a halt in the garage. When I dashed inside, Bobby looked up from the couch. He must’ve asked to be released early.

“D-do, uh, you want...” My voice, higher than it’d been since high school, hitched. “Help, um, me pick outfits?”

As I waited a million years for Bobby to decide, my legs trembled. One after another, shivers raced along my spine. At last, he shook his head.

“Nah. You go ahead. You know what looks best.”

Did I ever!

While twisting and turning most of the night—and all damned day—I’d run this wardrobe through my mind. Adding, subtracting, revising. Is this too sexy? Nope. What about this? Nope. This? Not hot enough.

After applying the sultriest makeup, I finally headed downstairs with dangling gold earrings sweeping my neck. At the soft click-clacking of the glossy black stilettos on the carpeted steps, Bobby turned. His eyelids flew wide. He gaped at me until I stood before him with a wheeled carryon’s handle in one hand. It contained the rest of the outfits.

“Holy fuck, Lisa.” As his gaze roamed me, air whistled from his lips. “Sweet Jesus, you’re stunning.”

Sometime in the pre-dawn murk, I’d settled on the slinkiest, tiniest, black micro-dress. Since it had no back, I wore no bra. Without the camouflage of a flower pattern, my sharp points would drive them crazy. Already, with them sliding under the silk, they were doing that to me. Flashes of heat roared deep within me. Also, the hem made it to mid-thigh, but only when I remained still. Any motion and the flirty skirt swayed upwards, revealing the black lace tops of dark thigh-high stockings.

“I mean, wow.” When he rose, the hardening physical reaction in his trousers came into view. “Have you, uh, ever worn that, um, before?”

When I shook my head, his eyes widened. I’d lied. Although I hadn’t for him, I had several times in college. And Bobby had no idea what else was in the little case. Not that I would wear them all. Some were a bit much. Too over the top for a neighborly photo shoot. Too risqué. Perhaps.

“Well, uh, I guess we’re, um, ready then,” Bobby said in a low voice as he opened the front door and gave me another lingering inspection.

As soon as my heels clicked onto the stoop, everything in my body tingled. A shudder rippled through me when he pulled the door shut behind us. Its thump resounded. No turning back.

With my suddenly sweaty palm gripping the small carryon, the neighborhood wavered. As if I’d been zapped, a gasp flew from me when he took the case from my fist and slid the fingers of his other hand into mine. Although his touch should’ve calmed me, my pulse sped.

While Bobby led me along the sidewalk towards Pete’s front door, every sharp clack of my heels sent another jolting surge through my shaking frame. Try as I might, I couldn’t control my breathing or slow my racing heartbeat. Once we’d arrived beneath the bright porch light, we both stood in silence.

As in utter, profound quiet. Nothing but the muted chirping of crickets. With our eyes locked, all I could hear was the pounding of my heart. My husband’s lower lip trembled. He’s gonna change his mind? Take me home? To fuck me hard. Over and over.

When he didn’t move, I reached out with my finger. But he flew past me to press a fingertip into the doorbell button.

At the ringing of elegant chimes, Bobby’s eyes widened, and he caught his breath. At the sound of the bolt releasing, my chest tightened. Not even a creak as the door opened. Because Pete was meticulous. This would be fine. Only a few pictures. Not too risqué. As the hem slid along my stockings, I gulped. A little sexy, perhaps. Besides, Bobby was there. I’d simply step up and enter...

That soul-devouring toothy smile broadening. Those brilliant charcoal lasers. In tight black trousers and a white polo shirt glued to his muscled torso, Pete appeared. As the world faded into a wobbling haze, my heart raced into overdrive. Although he swept us with his gaze while pulling the door wider, he returned to roam my trembling frame.

“Nice look.” With that, he grinned at my husband. “She’s a looker alright, Bobby boy. You lucky dog.” Then he beckoned us to enter. “Come on in. I’ll give you the cook’s tour.”

“Uh, thanks, Pete,” Bobby replied.

As my wobbly heels stepped up to cross the threshold, I couldn’t form words. Each echoing click-clack of my shoes within his home sent jarring tremors slicing through me.

Inside. His. Domain.

When the door thumped closed, my heart hammered faster. Even as Pete’s shadow loomed closer, I glanced around. His home’s layout was almost identical to ours. When his footsteps halted, letting his body heat pummel my spine, the pounding in my ears became a raucous drumbeat.

“It’s kinda comfy,” Pete said while gestured to the living room.

His grin sent ripples through me while Bobby only nodded. He was right. With a large, warm brown leather couch and matching chairs all on deep-piled chocolate carpeting, the sizable space exuded comfort. Coziness. A russet-tiled gas fireplace enhanced the pleasant ambiance.

“It don’t get much use anymore,” Pete added in a low voice.

At the sadness in his words, I glanced at him. Even as he maintained a grin, his eyes were hooded. He was already nodding towards the dining room. A half a dozen matching chairs surrounded a dark-wooden rectangular table, intricately carved and solid-looking.

“My pride and joy,” Pete said with a chuckle while pointed to a pair of open doors beyond the table.

Through the arched gap was a broad ebon-wood desk. A large, high-backed leather chair sat behind it. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the room. Each shelf was packed with well-organized volumes.

When he sauntered past me, the heart of his gliding frame sent a massive shiver along my spine, and a small gasp slipped from me. Despite Bobby flicking me a taut grin, my heels clicked as we followed Pete.

“Probably just like yours.” Pete laughed as he spun around in the kitchen.

It was. Other than his counter’s being topped by shiny orange and brown tile, the layout was identical. The whole place shouted “immaculate.” Just like Pete’s lawn. Everything was in its place. It was so orderly. My impression was if it didn’t fit, Pete would make it fit. While smiling at us, he rested his hand on one of two chairs at a small round table. The other pair were against the rear wall beneath a window overlooking his back porch.

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