Page 32 of Call Me Sir

My stomach takes over, the rumbling echoing off the tiles.

Hurrying to dry off I go into my room and try to find an outfit he won’t be able to resist me in.

Eight

Sal

I’m not patient. It’s one of my few weaknesses I can’t seem to reign in. Well, compared to Cole I could teach master classes. But I’m far from where I’d like to be.

However, the excitement bubbling in my stomach that we’re prolonging whatever this is, makes me want every moment to inch on by.

When the door swings open and Cole emerges, I’m instantly horny.

How is it that he can wear a casual black, colored polo and gray joggers and blow me away?

How am I supposed to contain myself until tonight?

We dish ourselves up, then go to the balcony to eat.

“What kind of coffee do you like?” Cole asks as he takes the first bite of food.

It’s delightful to watch him enjoy what I’ve made.

Which is good, because omelets are pretty much the only thing I can cook.

“I prefer cappuccinos, specifically vanilla.”

His face scrunches in disgust. “Even when it’s hot?”

I shrug. “It’s not hot yet.”

And it’s not. Spring is in full swing. The sun is shining, the grass is green but the ocean breeze is a mix of hot and cold air.

Finishing his meal, he sits back and closes his eyes, the wind blows his mess of hair around.

He’s so calm, something I’d never use to describe him while at the office.

I find my gaze moving beyond him to the bustling city below. My will to leave the apartment begins to diminish when the alternative comes to mind.

Stripping those form fitting joggers from his body, kissing those plump lips, finding new ways to make him blush.

“You okay?”

The question catches me off guard. I don’t show it though. I meet his gaze and those hazel eyes are bright with amusement.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go.”

There’s that eagerness I’m used to.

He clears the table and I get the door for him. We spend the next few minutes cleaning up before slipping on our shoes and going down to my car.

I know exactly where I want to take him. There’s a cute little coffee shack off the pier.

Reaching over to him, I firmly grab his thigh and squeeze it gently. He jumps, giving me the most sheepish grin. Pink dust’s his cheeks.

“Is this okay?” I ask, holding in my chuckle.

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