Page 42 of Her Filthy Grump

When my cellphone rings, I smile.Ethan Campos.“Hello, Mr. Campos.”

“Hello, dear.” His frail gravelly voice rings into my ear. “How’re you this fine day?”

“I’m wonderful. And you?” By this point, I’m grinning ear to ear. I love Mr. Campos. He was my music teacher in elementary school. He retired after my fourth-grade year, but no one else replaced him as my favoriteFarmer in the Dellimpersonator.

“I could be better. My sciatica is acting up today. That’s why I called. Would you be interested in driving me somewhere on Saturday?”

“Of course.” Crap. Here I go again. Speaking before thinking. Do I work on Saturday? I pause for several seconds as I mentally go through my work schedule. “Mr. Campos, if I remember correctly, I’m off at two o’clock that day. I should be able to come over at four o’clock.”

“That’s great, dear. Dress nicely.”

“Yes, sir.” I chuckle as I hang up.

What quirky or zany thing does he have up his sleeve this time? The last time I offered to drive him somewhere, we ended up at the senior center, where he danced the evening away with a couple of little old ladies.

They were adorable with their tight grey curls and giggles as they worked the room. Mr. Campos must have been one fine Casanova in his day.

Speaking of Casanova. My heart jumps in my throat. Kameron will be here any second. I glance in the mirror and study my reflection.Not bad.I press my lips together and twist to study my backside. The skirt sways as I move, and it kisses the back of my legs.

I shiver as memories of his hands caressing my flesh flood my entire body with heat and need. I haven’t seen him for two days because of our work schedules, but I can’t stop thinking about him.

Gu-u-url, you’re in trouble.I shake my head and sigh. There’s no way I’m not going to fall for his cocky charm. I can say with as much bravado as I want that it’s purely physical, but its more than that.

The sound of crunching tires interrupts my musings. Kameron’s pickup pulls into the driveway, and I run out the door without a care in the world. Why worry about tomorrow when you can enjoy today?

He jumps out of the driver’s side, and his eyes rake over me. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” My cheeks heat as he rounds the front of the pickup and stalks toward me.

“I missed you.” He grins and wraps his arms around me.

When his mouth lands on my lips, I fist his T-shirt and moan. His tongue dives inside and swipes against mine. He mimics the movements his fingers took as he explored my sex just a few nights ago, and my clit throbs in anticipation. I place my leg between his and rock into his growing length.

When he growls against my lips, I nearly drop my panties right then in front of my neighbors. It’s insane. No one has ever turned me on like he does.

I can say I was saving myself for marriage, but that’s not entirely true. I was waiting until I found someone who lit my world on fire–someone who drenches my panties with one flick of his tongue. I break free and heave as I try to catch my breath. “Do you want to come inside my house?”

“Fuck, no. I want to come inside your sweet, tight pussy.” He bites his bottom lip, and my brain short circuits. This is the look I’ve dreamed about all my life. Lord, where’s the air conditioner? Or a bag of ice I can dump in my panties.

I quiver. “We don’t have to go out.”

“Yes, we do.” He pulls back and grabs my hand. “I promised you dinner and dancing. Then….” He waggles his eyebrows. “Then, we’ll come back here, and I’ll put you to bed.”

“O-okay.” He opens the door and helps me inside his pickup. Once I have the seatbelt fastened, he leans inside and kisses the corner of my lips. “One last taste so I can make it to the restaurant.”

After he slams the door shut, I drop my head against the cushion and swoon. Is this for real? This guy’s not the one I met three weeks ago. Which one is the real Kameron Willoughby?

He climbs into the vehicle and starts the engine. “Are you okay with Mexican?”

“Sure.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to say, ‘I’m good with anything as long as it is with you,’ but I don’t want to scare him off. My heart dives to my feet. I’ve got to remember this is temporary. He’s leaving in a couple of months.

When we near my neighbor, Jenny Bowman’s house, she’s standing on the corner by her mailbox with her hip angled out and her tits so far in the air, I’m surprised she doesn’t tip over backward. Why is she at the mailbox wearing a miniskirt and three buttons open on her top?

As we drive past, her mouth drops open. Ah, she’s seen Kameron around town and thought she’d get her claws in him. I clasp my hands together to keep from flipping her off.

I graduated with Jenny, and she thought her shit didn’t stink. Not this time. He’s mine, big tits. God, when did I get so petty? Right, about now.

I’m quiet as we drive the rest of the way to the restaurant. The music from the stereo is a soft jazz number, but it does little to settle my nerves. What if I’m making the biggest mistake of my life? Stop it. What if I’m making the best decision I’ve ever made?

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