Page 61 of Summer with My Sexy Ex
My dick softens, finally spent, and slips from her. I don’t tell her I miss the feel of her already.
We finish showering and get out. I dry her off, then hand her an extra towel for her hair, before briskly rubbing myself down and putting on one of the hotel robes.
“I’m going to see if they delivered breakfast.”
“Okay.” She smiles. “I’m just going to”—she gestures to her hair—“you know.”
I give her a quick kiss on the lips. She pulls me back in for a deeper one; it feels desperate, in a way.
I almost ask her if something is wrong, but instead, I back out of the room and close the bathroom door behind me. Something tells me she wants a moment to herself. And just like with anything else she might ever want; I intend to give it to her.
bristol
I waituntil he leaves before ducking out of the bathroom to grab my phone. I can hear him in the separate living room area setting things out for breakfast, including pouring a cup of coffee. God, I want coffee. I need to talk to Darby more.
I’m hitting call when he returns, knocking lightly at the door. I tuck my phone by my side as he pokes his head in.
“I thought you might want coffee.” He sets it down on the vanity near the sink.
“You are amazing, thank you.” I smile.
He smiles back, causing flutters in my belly. “Breakfast is here whenever you’re ready. No rush.” He closes the door behind him, and I’m alone once more. Which is what I want, but somehow it makes me sad at the same time.
I can smell the coffee from across the bathroom, and my stomach grumbles in anticipation. My first sip tells me he’s prepared it just the way I like it.
How does he even know how I drink my coffee?
I return to the vanity seat to collect my thoughts since I’ve foiled my plans. Again. Then I decide to text, instead of call, Darby.
ME: I had the plan in hand. Then I set it on fire and let it burn while I had sex. Lots and lots of sex.
DARBY: Hey, Mrs. Reed. About time you text me back.
ME: Yeah, that’s not going to last.
DARBY: What? The texting me, or Mrs. Reed?
ME: Mrs. Reed. We aren’t staying married.
DARBY: Is it cause the ‘lots and lots’ of sex is bad?
DARBY: You can tell me. He’s way too good looking anyway; it’s not fair if he’s also good in bed.
ME: LOL. Fair to who?
DARBY: Fair to whom, smarty pants. And you call yourself a wordsmith.
DARBY: Fair to the rest of us. Women in general. There needs to be balance. You can either have a hot guy who’s just okay in bed. Or an okay-looking guy who’s great in bed. Not both.
ME: Where does that rule come from?
DARBY: Pretty sure it’s universally known.
ME: The sex is phenomenal.
DARBY: I hate you. We can no longer be friends.
ME: I hate me too.
