I close the lid to the grill just as Ollie strolls out onto her patio. Seeing her wrapped up in my old gray stained sweatshirt and a pair of loose black shorts stirs my cock without my consent.
Could be because we’ve been spending less time in the sheets these past few weeks and more time side by side working on our computers, or it could be because there is nothing sexier than seeing the woman I love most in the world covered in me. Thinking a little bit of both.
Ollie plops down in the patio chair and pulls her feet to her chest. “Sorry, I didn’t come out here first. I had to shower.”
“Had to?”
“Yeah, I was enjoying an ice cream cone on the way home from work-”
“And you didn’t bring me one?”
“I didn’t know you were already here.”
“But you didn’t ask.”
She glowers and I lightly chuckle before having a sip of my beer.
“Anyway, a stupid bike rider swerved in front of me, I hit my breaks, smashed the cone, and spent the remainder of the drive sticky as well as swearing like a starving sailor.”
The description drags out more laughter.
“Smells good though,” she motions her hand towards my grill, “whatever you’re cookin’, good lookin’.”
I smirk at the same time I place the bottle down on the nearby table. “Just slow roasting vegetables at the moment. Wanted to wait until you were home before actually putting the meat on.”
About a month ago, I tossed the piece of shit grill she had, and brought over the one from my apartment. Aside from the fact hers was dingy and outdated, I liked having something here to remind her of me. Something here I contribute to. It was really just the beginning. I’ve got laundry in her washroom, aftershave along with deodorant in the bathroom, and three coffee mugs I’ve gotten over the last two Christmas’ from employees.
“And what are you grilling tonight?” Excitement instantly appears in her eyes. “Tell me it’s the cheesy beer chicken.”
I lean against the railing. “We can’t have that every week, Ollie.”
“Since when are you a quitter?”
After we exchange a small laugh, I answer, “We’re having steak.”
She lifts her eyebrows. “Good news or bad news?”
“What?”
“Well, when you decide we’re having grilled steak there’s always some sort of news involved.”
“Not true.”
“Princess Pinky threw up in my favorite flats. We had steak and twice baked mashed potatoes. Blake was too hung over to work without supervision, we canceled our weekend away, and you made steak and garlic red potatoes that night.”
My mouth lowers to argue yet she raises a finger to inform me she’s not finished.
“I gave you a key to my apartment-”
“We had pizza that night!”
“Because we spent all afternoon and most of the night having sex and the only thing still open that didn’t require us to leave the house was pizza. But the following night we had steak and baked potatoes. And why is it we always have steak and potatoes?”
“We have other sides.”
“We do,” she says slowly, “but there’s always some sort of potato. Is that a farm boy thing?”
Her attempt to make light of the situation in case I am indeed delivering bad news is appreciated.
“It’s not bad news.”
“Then it’s good news.”
“It’s actually great news. We have our final meeting with Wilcox scheduled for next month. While everything is a done deal at this point, we will finalize the paperwork to make it official as well as release a press statement.”
“That’s amazing!”
I smile at her genuine joy.
It’s been quite a journey to get here. After initially meeting J.T. an unforeseen long progress began. Over the past three months it’s been what has felt like one long road paved with paperwork and painfully long meetings. As thrilled as I am to be taken under the wing of a much larger company, it has been beyond stressful. The decisions. The indecisions. The people besides myself I have to consider. Wilcox’s team has done the best they can to make the grueling quest of information they need before they can make an offer as smooth as possible, but it has still been a transition filled with many late work nights and even earlier than normal mornings. Thankfully, Ollie’s had her own work projects to keep her equally as occupied, which helped the guilt I was feeling stay at a low minimum. She’s never complained about any of it even when it means a couple days without going at it because we’re both too tired to do more than cuddle to sleep. I think it helps we’re both willing to make the most of the time we’re given together. Our walks with Princess Pinky. Our dinners. The five minutes we get to just breathe each other in before one of us is snoring. I love how she doesn’t use our lack of time together like a weapon to exploit jewelry or shoes or an expensive vacation to Cancun. I love how she’s not that person. I love how she’s not at all like Carol Ann.
“My family wants to do a huge celebration that weekend…”
Her eyes widen much like I expected.
“You and Princess Pinky should be there.” I lift the lid to give the corn and mushrooms a brief glance. “I want you there.”
Ollie winds her arms tightly around her legs at the same time she rests her chin on her knees. “Like your whole family?”
Once it’s closed and I’m leaning against the railing again, I nod. “My whole family.”
She winces.
“You’ve practically already met everyone.”
“I haven’t met Oliver.”
My attention briefly darts away.
I know my brother isn’t going to snake her away, but it doesn’t mean I’m in a hurry to risk it. As much as I love Ollie and I know she’s the only road for me, sometimes I’m not sure she feels the same way. The tiny sliver of fear may or may not be what keeps me from putting her in the direct line with someone who probably understands more about her gaming rambles. I’m constantly clueless.
With a teasing look, she asks, “Are you afraid he’s gonna try to whisk me away, Farm Boy?”
My arms fold across my chest. “Can’t whisk someone away who doesn’t wanna go, Darlin’.”
“Exactly.”
Her words relax my tense shoulders.
“So…everyone will be there? All your brothers? All their wives? All your nephews?”
“And my parents,” I add matter of factly, “who are pissed they haven’t met you yet.”
“They’re pissed at me?”
“Well more at me for not hog tying you and just dragging you home.”
She snickers, and I take the opportunity to find peace in the sound.
“They’re offended. They feel like you’re avoiding them.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
“What if they hate me, Ford?!” She snaps irrationally loud. “What if they demand you break up with me immediately and resume dating someone who better suits you? Someone who knows the difference in Holstein and New York cows.”
“Jersey.”
My correction is met with a look of horror.
I have clearly missed the point…
“Ford-”
“Ollie, stop,” I swiftly command. “They’re going to love you exactly like I do.”
Her bottom lip slips between her teeth and my cock begins to stir again from my eyes focusing on the area I haven’t spent much time with lately.
After giving my stiffening situation an adjustment, I correct, “Okay, not exactly like I do, but that’s a good thing. If my parents wanted to see you naked we would have a different batch of problems.”
She laughs again as she shakes her head.
“I swear it’s not as bad as you’re thinking. They really are going to love you.”
Ollie gives me a small shrug. “Fine…I’ll…meet your parents.”
Moving a little closer I tease, “Could you say it like it’s not an invitation to Death Row?”
The giggle she offers me lets me know she’s just nervous, which I can deal with. That I can help her work through.
I attempt to give her a sweet smile, knowing the last thing on my agenda I needed to discuss.
She catches the change immediately. “Oh God, what else do you have to tell me? Did someone die?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
My hesitation is proceeded with a small squeeze to the back of my neck. “My lease is up next month as well. And I was wondering…since I…practically live here most of the time already, what you thought of me just moving in all together.”
Shock floods her face causing my throat to close.
Fuck. This was a bad suggestion. What was I thinking?
I allow for a few moments of silence to pass and busy myself with removing the veggies from the grill.
“You want to live with me?”
The question catches my attention between actions. “Of course, baby. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbles, her feet falling to the ground. “Maybe you like your space? Maybe you like the fact you don’t have to come home to me every night?”
“Baby, I do come here every night I’m not too tired to make the drive. Where you are is where I wanna be. And eventually, I would love for us to spend more time out at my house too, but for now our time here is enough.”
All of a sudden a smile crawls onto her face. “I’d like that.”
Taken off guard, I question, “Yeah?”
“I mean, I’m not really an outdoors fan…bugs love me and sneakers hate me, but I like the idea of being welcomed in your home, Ford. Since the beginning of our relationship we’ve always been here. It would be fun to…balance that out, ya know?”
Pride pumps through my veins at the same time I put the plate on the table. “Absolutely.”
“Maybe we start with the weekend of your celebration?”
“You wanna spend the whole weekend out at my house?”
She nods slowly.
“Think you can handle that?”
“Guess we’ll find out.” I begin to cross my way over to her when she swiftly adds, “Oh! And I want a key that weekend. That way if you have to work late and can’t make it back to our apartment, I can make you dinner at your house or bring you dinner.”
Now in front of her, I let my eyes soften along with my smile. “You said our apartment. Does that mean I can move in?”
Ollie grins. “Yeah, but you’ve got to learn to put the toothpaste cap back on.”
I chuckle as I lean down closer for a kiss. “I’ll work on that.”
She tugs me by my shirt to her lips and all the city sounds disappear. Our tongues collide and crash with avidity. The feeling of having been separated too long becomes overwhelming. My hands mindlessly roam down her chest eliciting a distinctive moan of approval.
When my hand grazes her thigh, she drifts them further apart to allow better access. “Don’t you have meat to cook?”
Ignoring her comment, I slip a finger around the edge of her shorts to find her pussy already soaking. Our foreheads knock together and I state, “No, I have to take care of this. You always come first, Ollie.” I give her bottom lip a nip at the same time two of my fingers thrust inside. “Always.”
She arches forward and grips my biceps for leverage. With my eyes caressing all the curves I wish my hands could I continue to slide my fingers to the hilt before easing them back out only to repeat the process. Her pussy greedily clenches as if trying to cage them in place.
“Feet over the arms,” I command.
Without question, Ollie makes the adjustment, offering me complete access to the only thing I love the taste of more than my own beer. I keep my pushes steady, but when she begins to lift up in anticipation, my speed slightly increases. Ollie struggles to keep her screams from filling the city and the sight almost seduces my dick into coming on the spot. As her movements become frantic, clit now under the ruthless reign of my thumb, I dig my teeth into my bottom lip, only wanting her soft whimpers to flood the air.
Her fingers paw at my shirt in hopes of support. “Ford, I’m gonna come…”
My actions increase in ferocity and as warned, Ollie deliciously detonates. She tosses her body forward and her head back. Her pussy quivers with such force my knees have to lean against the chair for support. The sound of my name whispered in repetition rips away the meal plan I had before and promptly replaces them with feasting on something else.
I slowly drag my fingers out, loving the way her body shakes during the process. Afterwards, I give them a hard suck, and insist, “You now. Dinner later.”
There’s no argument.
With a crooked smirk, I turn to shut off the grill and put away the cooked food when I notice it’s gone. “Shit…”
Ollie’s concern is immediate. “What? What’s wrong?”
I spin around on my heels, lean to the side to get a glimpse into our living room where Princess Pinky is finishing the last of our sides.
A defeated sigh escapes me as I toss my head at our gluttonous pet.
She catches a view of the sight and her hands fly to her face to catch the giggles.
I shake my head, allowing my grin to grow to much wider proportions.
This is now officially home sweet home…Girlfriend. Hog. Good food and great reasons to laugh. Even if life never gets any better than this, I’ll still die a very happy man.