Page 45 of Hit For Six
‘I’m going to ride you, Monty. And I’m going to ride you like you’ve never been ridden before.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Monty
‘I would loveto meet your parents. When the time feels right.’
Monty couldn’t believe what he was saying. But it wasn’t just the afterglow of last night and the memory of the most exquisite eyes in the world (and, equally, the most exquisite tits jiggling erotically) as he’d climaxed. He truly meant it. He hoped it wasn’t his imagination and he definitely didn’t want to come on too strong but the past few hours’ intimacy (and very little sleep) had changed everything. He was head over heels in love. There were no other words for it. The passion he and Lola had shared was beyond his wildest imagination. He couldn’t say it aloud yet but the heart knew. It had known since the moment he’d first looked into Lola’s eyes. Now he understood why it was said that they were the gateway to the soul.
‘Normally a statement like that would have me running a mile.’ A cute grin spread across Lola’s face. She walked her fingers down the line of golden hair that led to Monty’s perennially hard dick. ‘But… maybe it shouldn’t any more. Like, we’re not old but we’re not Romeo and Juliet-style young either. Surely in our late twenties we can do things at whatever speed feels right?’
‘Of course we can! There are no rules and even if there were, they’re there to be broken.’
Lola propped herself up on one elbow, her eyes adjusting to the morning sun trickling through the gap in the curtains. Monty felt instantly bereft of her touch but she only had to look at him and he was ablaze with yearning. When she did both he was a lost cause.
‘As it happens, I go to visit my parents most weekends. My mum needs a bit of help with the chores. My dad is… of a certain generation and, well, until mum’s better, it’s just easier if I muck in.’
Monty was distraught to learn of Lola’s mother’s hip condition and the crazy long waiting time for an NHS operation. On the rare occasion that he or his family had needed medical assistance, they were whisked into a private doctors or hospital. Job done.
‘I would be more than happy to lend a hand whenever you think it’s a good time to join you. And if you want to ease them in gently, we can always pretend we’re friends.’
‘Very good friends.’
Lola smiled provocatively.
‘What wouldyoulike us to be? You already know the way I feel.’
Monty brushed Lola’s fringe aside so he could look into her eyes as she replied.
‘You totally know the answer to that yourself after my slightly public declaration next to Pulteney Bridge last night.’
Her cheeks lit up pink. It was the sweetest thing. She had no idea how horny she made him. All the innocence after the saucy things she’d done to him last night. The contrast was mind blowing.
‘My girlfriend and lover. I very much like the sound of that.’
Monty stole a kiss from Lola, closing his eyes, unable to believe his luck. He wanted her so badly again. His groin throbbed at the thought of being deep inside her, of taking her to the edge, of running his hands all over her beautiful body and watching her response to every touch, each movement. But they had to get up. They both had stuff to be getting on with this fine sunny morning. That said, they could multitask along the way.
‘Fancy joining me in the shower?’
Lola looked strangely hesitant at this request.
‘I-I don’t think we’ve got time for that, Monty!’
‘Just five minutes? Of pure pleasure? I will do all of the workandI’ll throw in a back massage.’
Lola bit her lip and he knew that he’d won.
***
Afterwards they layin each other’s arms. Monty sensed that she wanted to tell him something but, as was becoming habit, he didn’t want to take the sparkle out of the moment. Let this honeymoon period last. For eternity, preferably.
Once he’d walked Lola home to her flat and they’d shared a deep, hot kiss in the doorway, his conscience prickled that he’d not checked in on Beefy. It was a terrible excuse to say that he’d been busy, but he really had been overwhelmed with life; the good and the bad. And now he had to be truly honest with himself and type out the ugly: aka the scariest resignation letter in the world.
But when he returned to the Crescent to do just that, ambling along to Beefy’s spot at the other end of its curve, there was no trace of him. It really was as if he’d never been there. Beefy’s sleeping bag had vanished, as had the cardboard boxes that he’d used as a layer to absorb some of the cold from the hard surface of the ground. Monty could have cried. He’d wanted to do something more for the guy. He felt instantly guilty for forgetting about his situation whilst he’d been having the time of his life.
He shuffled back to his apartment, made a strong coffee, sat at his laptop and pinched the bridge of his nose, willing his fingers to move to the keyboard and find the right words to express himself. But every attempt felt too cold or too comprehensive. And there was no way his folks could enjoy theirholiday if he sent his resignation before their Provence trip. Best to wait until they returned tanned, relaxed, tanked up on the bold tannins of Bandol Rouge, and better able to handle the rejection.
Monty wanted to ease Lola into the end of summer party gently too. He knew just the way. He could take her with him to water the plants.Not the orchids, the plants.Maybe, just maybe they could stay over. Then things wouldn’t seem so daunting when she met everybody in a formal setting.
