Chapter 42

The next morning, a buzz yanked me from a sound sleep. With a groan, I slapped around, seeking the phone out of reflex. My brain stumbled: a muted buzz, not the jarring alarm. A louder groan left me as the device rose in my hand.

“Who? Saturday. Early,” I murmured.

My fumbling grip spun the screen and brought it to life. Brows knitted, I gazed at an image, and kept gazing as my brain tried to focus. Yeah, I was really slow that morning. At last, the pixels resolved, and all the air in my lungs hissed from me.

Mandy. Dark, glossy hair swirled around her shoulders. Outside my front door. The top of the usual white and red tracksuit unzipped and pulled wide. The shiny black collar encircled her neck. Those bold letters glowed.

“Mmm, naughty little slut,” I murmured while inspecting both perky tits.

Nope, no colorful stretchiness covered them. Sharp-tipped, the paler skin gleamed in the pre-dawn gloom. They called me, as did her smile, and those twinkling eyes.

With a grunt, I lurched from bed and stumbled downstairs. No sooner had I thrown open the door than she flashed me a wider grin. An icy gust sent black hair flailing, and she’d resealed the top against the chill.

“Good morning, Jim.”

Before I could respond, she lifted a large bag and squeezed past me. Left in an invisible cloud of perfume and flowery shampoo, I stared after her as she kicked off running shoes and climbed the stairs.

By the time I’d shoved the door shut and followed, she was in my bedroom, standing in front of the bureau. The one that had been Debbie’s, still empty but for the toys in the lowest drawer. Mandy was placing folded clothing in the other ones.

“Uh, good morning,” I muttered, running a hand through my messy hair.

Rather than reply, she carried a smaller bag and a clutch of bottles into the bathroom. Once back, she kept those gleaming blue eyes locked on me, while unzipping and stepping from the tracksuit. Still silent, the minx, in all her naked glory but for the shiny collar, walked to the bed, then slid into the sheets. With a sigh, she snuggled into the warm spot where I’d been sleeping.

For a while, I simply stood staring from the doorway. In a constant stagger, my pulse couldn’t decide whether to speed or seize. Yes, she’d slept with me before, but never so ... When her eyelids closed and another quiet exhale left perfect lips, my chest tightened.

“Told Charles we run every day,” she whispered. “Rain or shine. Gotta stay fit.” At my gasp, she opened one eye, and that impish grin appeared. “He plays golf with Mr. Rivas, his boss, and the other cronies every Saturday. If the weather’s bad, they go to Rivas’ house and play poker in the basement.”

“How long have you been planning this?” I asked, walking towards her.

“Hmm, let’s see.” She giggled. “Since you first said you loved me, Jim.”

“Well”—After slipping back into bed, I slid into her warm spine and pulled those amazing curves tight to me—”sounds like we’ve got a new routine, huh?”

“Mmm-hm, master,” she murmured before pressing supple lips to my arm. “I’m such a naughty slut, aren’t I?”

“Yes, Mandy, you are,” I muttered into her hair. “And I still love you.”

“I know, master.” Her lithe frame snuggled backwards into me with a whimper. “Love you, too.”

After a quiet yawn escaped her, she sighed, and I closed my eyes. Soon enough, soft snores left her. With that compact, heated body in my arms, blackness seeped into my mind again.

Orange murk was just beginning to appear around my curtains when I awoke to languid slurping, and her pelvis easing back and forth. Hard, my shaft was trapped between velvety thighs.

My brow furrowed. If she were asleep, my swollen flesh would wake her. She’d been so tired. We had all day to play. When I started to slide it from her, a clawed hand shot to my hip.

“Oh, no. Nuh-uh, don’t you dare, Jim.” She gulped and pressed her legs tighter, squeezing my length. “Mmm, your naughty little slut has been dreaming of this ride so damned long.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I muttered before chuckling. “Ride away.”

She did. Soon enough, her motions became frenzied. The rings on the collar clinked. When my fingers slid lower to rub a hot, spiky clit, she bucked and cried out. With one hand gripping my rear, her other roamed both perky cones, tugging and twisting stiff nipples. More cries and powerful convulsions followed.

As the room brightened in the rising sunlight, her moans faded. My digits left heated slickness, and her trembling body crumpled once more. Although sloppy petals continued gentle shuddering around my trapped pole, her breathing slowed, then grew regular.