He waited with his breath held, waiting to see if she’d find his desires kinky and tell him to go straight to hell.
She didn’t say anything, only looked at him from the corners of her big brown eyes, and he knew better than to rush her. The last time he had, she’d done exactly what he was afraid she’d do this time. She’d told him to go straight to hell. It was all a part of the game.
“Do you think you’re ready for that, Davis? Are you ready for me?” she asked from behind the large desk, across the room from him.
He stood and slowly walked over to her and looked down at himself as he did so. Judging from the raging hard-on he had, he’d say that was a definite yes. He took the base of his penis in one hand and stroked down to the end of its his bulbous, cum-filled tip and lifted his eyes to watch her as he did so.
The quick breath she inhaled, coupled with the swipe of her tongue against her lush bottom lip, showed Davis that she liked what she saw and was ready for him.
She sat behind her desk, wearing one of those wraps of fabric she loved to wear, one leg planted on the floor, the other over the arm of the chair, swinging back and forth, pendulum style.
As he stood within a foot of her, he was surprised to see her skirt was much shorter than what she normally wore. It was so short in fact, he could see the dark, tight, curly thatch of hair surrounding her glistening pussy as it played peek-a-boo with every swing of her leg.
She loved to tease him. Loved to see how far he’d allow her to take it, before he lost it and demanded she give him what was his. He knew it, but played the game anyway.
She was ready.
Davis could tell from the way her small breasts heaved, the look in her pretty brown eyes…and the glistening of cream easing down the inside of her smooth brown thigh. He bent his head, leaned in and inhaled.
Damn.
The scent of her pussy was a pungent combination of hot chocolate and peppermint. Heady and sweet, just like her. He reluctantly lifted his head.
“You’re always ready for me,” she purred. “Physically.”
When she amended her statement, he felt the first stirrings of unease.
The uneasiness turned into a more demanding churning in his gut with her rebuttal.
“But what about Gail?”
“Damn it! She has nothing to do with this. With us! This is between you and me, and my wife has nothing to do with it!” He pressed her unresisting body down onto the desk.
With a determination born out of frustrated desire, he pulled her short skirt higher. Grabbing the backs of her thighs, Davis lifted them over his arms. He leaned into her mound and stroked her, deeply, with his tongue.
In satisfaction he watched as she nearly bucked him off her small body with the first touch of his mouth against her silken folds.
“Oh god, Davis…what are you doing to me?” she panted.
“It’s not what I’m doing to you, but what I have planned to do to you, that you have to worry about. What we both have to be worried about,” he promised grimly and leaned back in, prepared to give her what she’d been wanting, what he’d been craving, for nine long months.
Ringgg. Ringgg.
Davis was jerked awake when the jarring sound of his BlackBerry rang. He wanted to roar in anger and frustration with the interruption. Fuck! Even though it had been a dream, he’d been so damn close he could smell her distinct scent in the aftermath of the dream.
He reached over and picked the cell phone up from the nightstand and stabbed the talk button viciously.
“Hello.” His voice was scratchy from sleep and his dick was hard as a damn rock due to the familiar, erotic dream he’d been snatched out of reluctantly.
“Davis? Are you okay?” a soft feminine voice asked hesitantly.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just was asleep is all. What’s up, Mil?” he grumbled.
“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”
He heard the doubt in his sister’s voice. He was so predictable, it never crossed Milly’s mind he might actually have a living, breathing woman in his bed.
By all rights, he should have one lying beneath him, limp and fully satisfied, instead of the dream lover he’d bedded. And even in his dreams, he’d only gotten a small sample, Davis thought in disgust.
“No, it’s fine. I needed to get up anyway.” He looked over at the alarm, surprised it was already seven a.m.
“I can give you a call back, once you’re awake,” Milly volunteered.
“Just give me a few—make that fifteen—minutes so I can shower.”
“You’re not running? Things change since I’ve been gone?”
Milly had only recently returned from an extended time away from both the town of Stanton and Strong Construction, the family business.
“No, I don’t have time today. I need to get out to the site in a couple of hours. We break ground today and Rodney can’t make it,” he said, mentioning his operations manager.
Usually Davis ran three miles every morning without fail, but the dream had kept him enthralled so strongly his internal alarm hadn’t gone off.
“Okay, I’ll give you a call back in a bit,” she agreed and they hung up.
When Davis disengaged the phone, he reluctantly got out of bed and made his way, barefoot, to the adjoining bathroom. After adjusting the showerhead, he allowed the water to heat before he stepped inside the steaming, black-tiled, roomy stall. He turned his body fully into the hot, stinging spray and rubbed both hands over his face.
He’d had the dream again. This time, he’d almost gotten a real taste of her, this time he had been determined to shut his brain off and allow his libido to take over.
No thinking about the past, present or future. No thinking about Gail, his late wife.
Not this time.
This time he was going to fulfill the desires he and his dream lover had been flirting around with for the last nine months. This time he wasn’t going to think, even if it was just a dream, about anything but the pleasure two willing bodies could give each other.
He turned his face upward, allowing the invigorating spray to wash over his face, and thought about the woman who played the starring role in his dreams.
Candice Cain.
The kids called her Miss Candy. Her name alone was silly and immature.
He had no damn business thinking of the young woman constantly, not to mention the wet dreams where she’d been cast in the starring role. Dreams reminding him of his adolescence they were so graphic. Hot and so damn real he woke up hard as hell, dick in hand, with cum splashed against his thigh.
Shit.
He was too old for her. He was almost forty years old and Candice couldn’t be any older than her early twenties. Not only that, but she appeared to be the exact opposite of Gail.
He’d always been careful, sexually, with his wife. Before she’d been sick, she’d been the same way. When they’d made love, Davis had always been forced to hold back.
And it had been damn hard to do.
He was a man with a strong sex drive. After one disastrous time when he’d been less than…gentle, Gail had made him feel like a pile of shit. From that time on, he’d refrained from deviating from the norm with her, the sex had been done straight missionary style, and once he came, Gail quickly eased her body away from his.
He definitely never thought to