Page 63 of David's Chase

Whenever we hop over a small creek or any other obstacle, I hug him tighter, and the laughter climbing up his chest reverberates against my cheek.

I’ve never seen him so genuinely happy, enjoying everything, except maybe when he had sex with me or stared at my legs when I forgot to put a skirt on under my coat.

We’ve had such a nice time today.

After wrapping things up in the shower and cleaning ourselves for real, I put on the clothes he had bought for me from a local boutique.

Cropped pants, a smooth tank top, and a soft, luxurious sweater paired with flats.

I look like a true bourgeois baby, with my hair tied back into a voluptuous ponytail that bounces every time the horse's hoofs hit the ground.

He ditched the sharp suits for boots, jeans that fall deliciously over his butt, and a long sleeve cotton lumberjack shirt that makes me want to lick a trail from the base of his neck to the root of his cock.

Naughty thoughts aside, he took me to a lovely restaurant with a nice patio, where we sat and ate the best clam chowder I have ever had.

We tried their paella, and despite being full, we couldn’t say no to their chocolate layer cake.

It felt like a small celebration.

We talked about the food, the places he had traveled to, and my limited experience with writing books.

There were no serious topics, nothing earth shattering. No drama of any kind.

From afar, we looked like a lovely couple.

Someone at a nearby table even said so, and while I blushed up to my hairline, he kind of laughed it off.

It wasn’t enough of a setback to ruin my mood.

He didn’t make me feel like I was a fleeting thing in his life. And I didn’t make him feel like I was in only for the experience.

He took my hand at some point and held it while we waited for the check.

We left, holding hands, and I felt like we’d been cast in a romantic movie and the cameras were rolling somewhere in the background.

And then we came here.

His friend’s estate is even more astonishing than I imagined. It has a vineyard, a large house, and the horses David has talked about.

I eventually got used to riding with him, but I would never go horseback riding by myself, and that’s a fact.

We leave the place in the afternoon when he asks me whether I’m in the mood for dinner or dinner and a show.

My eyes linger on his face for a few seconds.

His cheeks are flushed, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

He’s casually tossed that at me, but I can tell he’s enjoying this.Our time together.

We could spend the night at his place, drinking wine and having sex, yet he seems to want to do more with me as if he’s missed having some company.

“Sure,” I say.

“Sure to what?” he asks while waiting for the car to pick us up.

“We can go see a show.”

The car pulls up, we say goodbye to his friend and claim our seats in the back of the limousine.

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