Page 42 of Every Inch of You
Chapter Fifteen
BRAD
Ihadto work even harder to hide how happy I was at the gym the next morning, than I had with Vivian the nightbefore.
I didn’t feel good about acting so cool about it. I sent her an:I had a good time last nighttext at six-thirty am. Fifteen minutes later, she wrote back:So did I. Thank you for havingme.
I was torn between wanting to pace myself—since I didn’t want this to end—and wanting to see her and touch her and kiss her and fuck her soon/more/all the time/endlessly.
I still had a free personal training slot that I hadn’t filled yet, since handing Vivian off to Sebastian, so it was possible for me to go home early. After hours of debating whether or not I should ask to see her again so soon, I texted her at two-thirty to see if she wanted to have dinner at my place that night—since I hadn’t properly thanked her for helping me with LByet.
I had to wait a full hour for a reply from her. In the span of an hour I had convinced myself that it was a terrible idea to see her again and I should write back to cancel my invitation. I was so mad that I wanted to fuck her again. It felt like I wanted her more than she wanted me, and that nothing had really changed since high school. I was glad that I at least hadn’t let her fellate me, because if she had I would have been agoner.
But as soon as I’d received a text from her I was happy again. She had back-to-back meetings, she’d said, but accepted my invitation. I decided that it was a good idea for us to get each other out of our systems as quickly and thoroughly as possible, and left the gym to go to WholeFoods.
By the timeshe’d arrived at my place, the quinoa and asparagus salad was ready, the parmesan-encrusted zucchini chips were crispy, the salmonen papillotehad just gone into the oven, and I had “prepared myself” twice so that I wouldn’t attack her as soon as she walked in, even though I fully expected her to jump onme.
Shedidn’t.
She behaved very respectably. She apologized for her work outfit, since she didn’t have time to go home and change. She was wearing a more relaxed variation of the sexy librarian outfit she had worn the day before (not quite so tight a skirt, black high heel boots), so obviously there was no need to apologize. She kissed me on the cheek, removed her boots to reveal knee high socks that were somehow even sexier than the boots, and asked if she could visit Little Badass in the guest room. While she did that, I set the table and checked on thesalmon.
When she returned from the guest room, I noted that her blouse was unbuttoned and un-tucked from the top of her grey pleated skirt, revealing the sheer cotton tank top she was wearing, with no evidence of a bra underneath it. She looked me directly in the eyes, as I finally lifted them away from the outline of her semi-hard nipples, as if to say: “Good luck getting through dinner without trying to fuck me,buddy.”
I did—manage to get through dinner without trying to fuck her. We sat at opposite ends of my long dining table, and I asked her about her job. When she asked me about my plans for my business, I went on and on and into great detail about the chain of fitness centers that I planned to open that would cater to Baby Boomers and seniors, in more suburban locations. I told her about my client Larry, and about how I had finally gotten my own parents to start working out regularly. She was not only a great listener, but also a great person to talk to about business plans, since she primarily worked with people who were in the process of forming their owncompanies.
I barely even thought about fucking once, all through dinner, but when I served her my homemade chocolate black bean brownies for dessert (after she gagged at the sound of it), she made the sexiest noises while she savored and devoured two of them. I stared at her mouth,transfixed.
But, I didn’t want to lose myself in her allnight.
I let LB out of her room, as I was now doing for about an hour at a time, to let her get used to the size of the whole apartment. I suggested we watchTwin Peaks.It was one of the many shows we’d watched together in my basement back in Seattle. She loved the idea, despite having to watch the actors eat all those donuts and slices of cherry pie, and got all comfy on my sofa, with LB in her lap. I took a seat at the other end of thesofa.
After reverent silence through the opening titles, we had a passionate discussion aboutTwin Peaks: The Returnon Showtime, and how we both hated it but couldn’t stop watching it. I finally told her what I thought aboutTheHunger GamesandGame of Thronesadaptations. We talked about the movies and shows and music that we did like, and more that we hated. We were opinionated, impassioned nerds, just like in high school. After about an hour, LB had gotten annoyed by all our talking and returned, unprompted, to herroom.
I got up and closed the door to the guest room, and when I’d returned to the sofa, Vivian was rubbing herfeet.
“They’re sore from running,” shesaid.
“They’re probably sore from those heels you wear,” I said. “Or it’s possible you aren’t landing mid-sole and then rolling to the tip of your toes. Or maybe you need better running shoes. I can get you free Nikes, they sponsorme.”
I sat down and gestured for her to put her feet up on my lap so I could give her a foot massage. She pulled off her socks and obliged. I warned her that I gave really good foot massages. She warned me that she had really smelly feet (shedidn’t).
As soon as I pushed my thumbs up into the balls of her foot, she closed her eyes and moaned, arching her back. Her legs were smooth, and getting more and more toned each week. I slowly worked my way up her calf, kneading and stroking, and then rubbing the inside of her thigh and feeling her wet panties and slipping my fingers inside ofher.
She pulled me to her for a kiss, bent her legs, squeezing herself around my fingers,rhythmically.
“Is this really what you wore to work today?” Iasked.
“I had a bulky sweater on overit.”
“You knew you’d see me tonight, didn’tyou?”
“I didn’t know. But I always hopeto.”
Her straightforward honesty washumbling.
“I thought about you all day,” she said into my ear. “I had to lock myself in the ladies room and touch myself in betweenmeetings.”
“You didnot.”
