Tyler
I WAS A married man who had yet to have sex.
With a crick in my neck and the sound of soft breathing in my ear, I blinked my eyes open and closed.
Waiting for her to tell me she wanted me might very well kill me, but she’d said no sex, and she had to be the one to rescind those two words.
Didn’t mean I’d make it easy on her. Even so, there was no fucking going on, and my dick was not happy about it as it started to rise to the occasion.
Paris was tight up against me and I liked it that way. Could get used to it, actually. I stared down at her and pondered that thought.
With the ring that said she was mine shining bright, the bracelet I’d given her still around her dainty wrist, and my grandfather’s dog tags tucked inside her shirt, she was mine.
She just didn’t realize it yet.
I pushed her wild hair out of her face. Her creamy colored skin was so smooth. Her bow-shaped lips so kissable. And that tight little body was perfection.
I wanted to spread those thighs wide and sink into her more than anything I’d wanted in a long time.
Considered doing it, too.
But no, I’d wait for her.
Wait for that fierce personality and hard determination that still belonged to a lost little girl who was trying to make it in her father’s world, realize she could.
And fuck, I wanted her to.
Knew she would.
Also knew it wasn’t going to be easy.
I wasn’t sure what it was I was feeling for her, but I knew it was filling me up and making me feel like I could take on the world.
For her.
Moving carefully, I laid her down on the sofa and covered her up. Running my hands down my face, I got to my feet. When I did, I accidentally tapped my laptop and it came to life. The document I’d been staring at last night making an appearance. I glanced down at it and the papers on the table.
The maps. The surveys.
The surveys.
And that’s when I saw it.
They were different.
Altered.
Fuck me.
I sat back down on the sofa and touched her cheek. “Paris. Wake up.”
She made that raspy moaning sound that made my dick even harder than it was. The idea of spreading her wide and dipping inside her sweetness was back in the forefront of my mind, but I had to put my party boy ways aside and focus on our future.
This was important.
This could be it.
Without giving much thought to what I was doing, I traced a path down to her jaw, enjoying the silky feel of her skin beneath my fingers. “Come on, Love. Wake up.”
Finally, she opened her eyes and her unfocused stare found mine. “Hey,” she said, “what time is it?”
“A little after six.”
She yawned and rubbed her eyes before sitting up and stretching. “It’s so early.”
“I know, but I want to show you something.”
She clutched the blanket around her in a manner that screamed she was not getting up. “No lessons right now. I’m too tired.”
I chuckled and decided to let her get some more sleep.
Setting everything down, I found the thermostat and turned it up. The thing wasn’t even digital. This place hadn’t been upgraded since it was built.
It was cold in here.
And not only the temperature. The surroundings, too.
Old man Malcolm, man. He was a piece of work.
I went into the kitchen with its avocado-green appliances and shook my head. There wasn’t even an electric coffee pot, just a percolator on the stove. Guess I could bring the one Wilhelmina bought me. It did make a decent cup of Joe.
I grabbed a shower and didn’t even jerk off this time. My dick was getting used to being perpetually hard, so it could deal.
Once I was back in the kitchen, I opened the cupboards and found the hot chocolate. There weren’t any candy canes anywhere, so just the chocolate would have to do.
Then, I couldn’t believe I was fucking doing it, but I toasted a couple slices of bread and tossed some jam on them.
Armed with a tray I’d found stuffed in the back of one of the old cupboards, I strode into the living room. “Hey, sleepyhead,” I said in a gentle tone. “I brought you some hot chocolate.”
She smiled at me and sat up stretching. “Wow. Breakfast in bed.” She bounced on the couch. “Well sofa, but close. You know, I think I might have married you just for your culinary skills.”
I got close. “You married me because I’m a sex God. I’d be happy to remind you of that.”
Grabbing the hot chocolate, she sat back with a, “Hmmm.”
“Hmmm what?”
She blew on it before taking a small sip. “Just hmmm.”
I shook my head. She was trying to blame for us not doing the deed yet. Whoa. “You fell asleep last night. Not me.”
Exchanging her cup for the plate of toast, she said, “Rewrite history in whatever way makes you feel good about it, but we both know the truth.”
My Martha Stewart time was up and I set the tray down away from the documents. “Whatever. Listen, I found something.”
Her brows rose. “Don’t say your dick.”
I narrowed my gaze. “Funny, but no. Don’t worry though, he’s right where he always is, ready and waiting, smartass.”
She giggled a little as she nibbled on her toast, her tongue sneaking out when she did.
Pushing my raging desire aside, I grabbed my laptop and the surveys from old man Malcolm’s relics. “Check this out.” I drew a finger over the line of the highway on each map.
She set her plate down and grabbed the paper map from me, holding it up beside the one on my computer. “According to the original plotting of the three parcels your grandfather spoke of in his letter, the access road to Highway 128 belonged to my father.”
I nodded. “Bingo! The question is, when did the boundaries change and why.”
“Do you think my father knew?”
That was a tough question. I thought about it. “Knew the property lines on the property stolen from him had been altered? Doubtful.”
She picked the piece of toast back up. “I think he might have known something and changed the name of his business to reflect that.”
I furrowed my brows. “I am not following.”
“Think about it,” she said.
And I did. “Ahhh,” I said, “A grand fuck-you to Vince Gable. Brilliant.”
She nodded. “I knew you were smart.”
“Funny.”
“But why keep a secret?”
“Because of the feud. Because time or money was short. Who knows. He’s probably the only one who could tell us that but I don’t think he’s a state of mind to do so.”
“No, me either.”
I took the piece of toast from her hand and shoved it in my mouth. “Hurry up and get ready,” I ordered, gathering up everything and tossing it in my briefcase. “We need to stop by and see Albert Dane before work.”
She got to her feet and started for the stairs, tossing over her shoulder, “Oh, goody, I can hardly wait,” she said sarcastically.
I wanted to give her an ‘oh goody’ all right, with my tongue and my dick, but sex would have to wait.
And that was so unlike anything I thought I’d ever say.