Page 66 of The Seven Month Itch
“You okay, princess?” His eyes watch me with amusement. Terrence is quite aware of the effect he has on me. Or the effect the wine had on me. I’m not sure which one.
I lean forward to put a hand on the doorframe but stumble before I can steady myself. “Yup, never been better.”
He’s laughing now. “You drunk, baby?”
I bite my lip and lean into the door, inches from his face. “I had a glass or two but am coherent,” I say with a wave of my hand and the tone of a game show host.
Tell him what he’s won, Johnny! A horny wife!Better than a top-of-the-line refrigerator, if you ask me. But maybe not a convertible.
Nope, I am.
His lips quirk. It appears my husband likes this unexpected visit. My breath catches when he leans in with his gaze locked on me. “I thought you said we wouldn’t see each other until tomorrow. Yet, here you are”—he tugs at the knot in my robe and drops his voice—“at my door, in a robe and heels.” His eyes drag down my body and take their sweet time to meet mine. The smirk on his face dares me to continue, so I rise to the occasion.
I don’t break our stare as I toss my bag into his room. Thank God it made it. My aim is crap on agoodday. “It’s past midnight, so tomorrow is here.” His eyes follow my hands as I slowly unravel the knot in my robe. It pools on the floor in the form of a clumped turd. Hey, it’s cotton, not silk.
His eyes bulge. Someone’s awake now. “Jesus, Justice.” I lean into his touch, which becomes more of a drag when he pulls me inside. The door shuts with a thud.
I channel my inner supermodel with a sashay to his bedroom in nothing but pink heels and my birthday suit. I stop at the entrance and look over my shoulder. Terrence is still at the front door. He needs to stop the fantasy that’s playing out in his eyes and come get the real thing.
“You gonna stand there and stare all night or handle your business, Mr. Reyes?”
He reaches me in three strides and throws me over his shoulder. The sting of the first smack to my ass registers before another lands and travels up my spine. “Like you need to question me.” Another smack.
I expect him to toss me onto my back when we reach his bed, but he flips me in the air in some CrossFit motion and puts his head between my legs. I grip his thick trunks in fear of a face-plant and welcome the erection that’s now in my face.
We meet again, old friend.
“You want to play games, princess?” My clit tingles against his breath. “Let’s play.”
Oh yes, please. I like games.
He tightens his hands around my thighs, spreads me wide, and latches onto my sex. Up. Down. All around. His tongue flattens to devour me in long strokes that build in pressure. He zeroes in on my clit to give it some figure-eight action with his tongue. This man is going to suck my soul through my vagina, and I’m more than okay with that.
With an arm around his lower back so I don’t fall, I take him out of his sweatpants. His dick springs to life, and I brace myself to take him deep in my throat in this twisted Spider-Man position. I lick him from base to tip and swirl my tongue around his head for good measure.
Two can play this game, buddy.
Our groans mix with the scent of our desire. He places us on the bed and turns so I’m on top. His arms rest against my inner thighs so he can nestle into my sex. You’d think the man hasn’t eaten in weeks the way he feasts on my body.
“Bet I’ll make you come first.” I swirl my tongue down his shaft, which makes apopsound.
I whimper at the thrust of two fingers hooked on my G-spot. “Game on, princess.”
Welp, I lost.
Mondays are the worst, but not this one. If someone had told me my estranged husband would press a red rose to my nose to tickle me awake—inhis hotel bed—I’d have called you full of it. But here I am with the biggest grin on my face. Terrence is at the end of the stem and on the side of the bed with a smile.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” He kisses me.
My body purrs. “Morning, baby. What time is it?”
“Twenty minutes past nine.”
I’m up in a scramble, on autopilot to find my robe and heels. The realization that my bits are jiggling proud and free doesn’t hit until I see Terrence bent over in laughter. My cheeks flush, and a bout of giggles takes over. “Go ahead. Laugh it up.”
His body convulses in his fight to contain himself. He coughs twice. “There’s no rush to get up. You can relax, princess.”
I don’t remember the last time we laughed like this. It’s nice, even if he’s in tears at my expense. Terrence wraps me in his arms and kisses my forehead. “I love you. What do you want for breakfast?”
