Page 67 of Thornhill Road

He fucked me again.

It was out of this world.

When he went to discard his condom, I was out like a light when he got back.

One Week Later

Late on Sunday morning,Mustang had dropped me off at home, and I spent the rest of the day doing laundry and preparing for the week ahead—which included a nap.

On Monday I got through my day shift with the anticipation of my dinner plans. Mustang and Mary-Kate picked me up at six, and we went to Railyard. Just as excited as I was, Mary-Kate hadinsistedshe needed to dress up for the occasion, which meant Mustang had been dragged to the store so she could pick out her new sleeveless, cotton summer dress covered in watermelon print.

I loved it.

I loved it more that she’d dragged Mustang to the store to buy it.

Even more than that, I loved knowing my man didn’t get dragged anywhere, which meant he wanted her to have the dress she insisted she needed.

After waking up without Mustang Tuesday morning, I was actually relieved I had a double shift to work. In a matter of days, the man had barged into my life so completely, I found it took hardly any time at all for me to miss him.

I was still lost in a free fall.

He promised to catch me, so I did nothing to stop it.

Wednesday afternoon, I came home to find a Harley parked on the curb and my man in the kitchen. I took this to mean there was no drama with Trix, which he confirmed.

He fed me. He fucked me. I passed out and he left for work.

Thursday morning, he was back making me breakfast, and I continued my fall.

Mustang took me back to Deadwood that night, and we had Italian for dinner.

When we got back to my place—we didn’t even make it to the bedroom.

I’d never look at my stairs without thinking of him again.

Friday night, before I left for work, I taped a note on my fridge.

It read:It’s my turn to feed you. You’ll just have to hold your horses until I wake up.

Now it was Saturday afternoon. I checked my phone to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, and then I made a quick trip to the bathroom. I handled my business then brushed my teeth, running my fingers through my hair a few times before I decided it was good enough. I didn’t bother getting fully dressed, certain my nightshirt would suffice for the meal I had in mind.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I found Mustang on the couch, his feet on my coffee table, the TV on with the volume turned down low, and his phone in his hand.

He’d held his horses.

I grinned.

His eyes found mine and I said, “Hi, babe.”

He set his phone down and replied, “That’s the best you got?”

I crossed the room, pressed a knee onto the couch, kicked my opposite leg over his, and settled down on his lap. Then I sank my fingers in his hair, tilting his head back slightly, and gave him my mouth.

He took over from there, caging me in his arms as he kissed me greedy.

It was marvelous.

When he pulled away, his hazel-blue eyes were vibrant and warm.

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