Ripples on AO3
Ripples on TWCS
“I’ll see you when I get home, baby,” I said as I kissed the unconscious form of my boyfriend. He snorted, waving me off dismissively. He so was not a morning person. “Love you, Edward.”
“Lurve schmeh,” he mumbled into his pillow, cuddling around some blankets. I giggled and left him in his sleep-induced stupor. After I filled my travel mug with some coffee, I went downstairs to the garage. I smiled softly as I stared at Edward’s new car. His red Chevy Camaro. It was so unlike him. Flashy, sexy and over the top. Edward was sexy but he wasn’t about flaunting his assets. He was very understatedly sexy and when all was said and done, quite humble and very generous with his affections, physical and emotional. My mind swirled of the fond memories of defiling it thoroughly and my very explosive climax from that hot, sexy moment.
Best. Birthday. Present. Ever.
Perhaps a repeat?
Now?
No? Crap.
I’ve got to go to work. Don’t wanna.
My eyes traveled to my car and I considered defiling my vehicle. Nah. I like that new car smell. Snickering, I hopped into my car and drove toward my office at the Seattle Times. My article on the two republican candidates for mayor was quite well-received and I was asked to meet with the incumbent democratic mayor and the independent candidate as well. I was going to make arrangements to meet with them later today after I met with Marcus. He had called me last night in a tizzy but wouldn’t say much. I assumed it was probably about Patricia. She was probably placed on bed rest and that I was now in her position full-time.
Parking my car, I went upstairs. As I was flipping through my phone, Paul stumbled into the elevator on the first floor. He elbowed me, giving me an appraising look. I was dressed very sedately in a pencil skirt and deep eggplant sweater. Everything was tight and I know that Edward would probably rip it off me once I got home. He was in for a treat underneath my clothes. No. Panties.
“So, you leave the arts and entertainment section and you’re too good to say good morning?” he teased.
Right, Paul. Stop drooling over the imminent sex you’re going to have once you get home from work.
“Good morning, Paul,” I deadpanned, squeezing my thighs together. Just thinking about Edward made me wet. Damn. “How was your weekend?” I sounded squeaky and breathy. Calm down, Swan.
No comments:
Post a Comment