Sweet Addiction

Eight

Everything involving the cake delivery went smoothly. Everything except for what happened before the actual cake delivery. Soaking my sore muscles in my tub, I run through the events that transpired several hours ago in my head. Justin was never aggressive with me when we were together. He never put his hands on me like that before. So I can only chalk up his f**ked up behavior to him discovering his wife’s wedding indiscretions and dealing with it like a lunatic. I find it rather perfect that he’s getting what he deserves, as long as he doesn’t deal with it at my expense. One thing is for sure, if he touches me again, he won’t have a dick to cheat on his wife with. I’ll cut that shit off and make him eat it.

My phone beeps and I sit up in the tub, pulling it off the sink and reading the message.

Reese: We still on for 8:00p.m, love?

I sigh heavily and stare at his message. I’m beyond excited to spend the evening with Reese, but I don’t want him to see the hideous marks that grace the skin of my shoulders and my upper back now. And spending time with him and not f**king is going to be a challenge. Of course, I could convince him to do clothes on f**king like we did at the wedding. That was still insanely hot. I nod at my decision as I type.

Me: We better be. I’m in the tub right now getting ready for you.

Reese: Prove it.

So many options here. I slump down so that the tops of my knees are sexily poking out of the water and press them against each other. I take a quick picture and send it to him.

Reese: I love those legs. Especially when they’re wrapped around my head.

Me: I especially love that too. Now stop distracting me. I have an incredibly hot CPA coming over in less than an hour.

Reese: Lucky bastard.

I dress in my favorite pair of skinny jeans that make my ass look higher and tighter, a tight black T-shirt that has a wickedly plunging neckline, and my black pumps. For casual wear, I have to say that I am looking pretty doable. My wavy blond hair falls smoothly past my shoulders and I stick with minimal makeup tonight, just some tinted moisturizer, mascara, and some lip gloss. A soft tapping on the glass door downstairs sends me carefully hurrying down the stairs and through the kitchen, stopping in the doorway at the sight of my date in the window. Shit, not a date. Not a date, Dylan.

I walk through the dark bakery up to the front door, waving sweetly at him as his smile grows. Reaching up to unlock it, I see his eyes roam down my body, taking in every inch of me before they finally return to my face. I hold my hand on the lock as he studies me.

“Hi, handsome,” I say, still not turning the lock to allow him entry. His green eyes are soft and warm and I’m dying to let him in. But I’m going to wait.

“Hi, love. Are you going to open the door or are you expecting someone else. Another incredibly hot CPA maybe?” He places his hands on either side of the door and tilts his head to the side, arching his brow at me. Oh how I love playful Reese.

“No just you. How well can you see me from out there?” The sight of him in jeans and a fitted gun metal grey T-shirt, hugging his body perfectly the way I want to is making me feel scandalous all of a sudden.

“Uh, pretty well.” He narrows his eyes at me. “What are you getting at?”

I step back a few feet and stand still. It’s dark outside already but Reese is being illuminated by a street lamp that is on the nearest corner. His tall frame is the only thing I can see through the glass. I smile widely at him. “If I’m right here, can you see me okay?”

He nods. “Not as well as I’d like to but yeah. What’s up?”

I pull my bottom lip into my mouth as I hold up a finger, indicating for him to wait a moment as I disappear into the kitchen. Carrying out a wooden chair, I sit it down in the middle of the room where I had just been standing and turn my eyes towards him. He’s studying me curiously, his eyes indicating that he has no idea what’s coming. Or who is coming for that matter, because someone will definitely be coming.

“Is the sidewalk busy tonight?” I ask, moving gracefully into the chair and facing him, legs crossing in front of me and my heeled foot drawing circles in the air.

He scratches his head and glances to his left, then to his right before turning back to me. “No, I think I’m the only guy out here waiting for you. You are going to let me in right?”

And that is the only confirmation I need to get the show started.

“Yes, in a minute.” I uncross my legs and spread them, my feet firmly planted on the tiled floor as I lean back against the hard wood. I keep my eyes on him as I slowly trail my hand down the front of me, gliding over my br**sts and stopping at the top of my jeans.

“Dylan, what the f**k are you doing?”

Taking both of my hands, I pop the button of my jeans and slide my dominant hand into my panties, letting out a loud moan as I begin moving two fingers against my drenched clit. Reese braces himself against the glass with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“Dylan. Holy f**king shit. Love, let me in.” His one hand grips his hair while the other pulls at the door handle repeatedly, the glass shaking slightly.

Tilting my head back, I bring my free hand up to my breast and squeeze, pulling at my erect nipple through my sheer bra and thin shirt. My fingers dip lower, spreading my wetness around and up to my enlarged hot spot as my breathing becomes loud and jagged. He begins pacing outside the window, never letting his eyes leave me or what I am doing.

“Reese, Oh God. I’m pretending it’s you touching me.” This is absolutely true. I can’t touch myself anymore and not imagine it isn’t him.