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Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Waiting For The Other Shoe To Drop: part 17

I've heard of getting knocked out by pleasure, read about it in a romance novel or two --- but the experience was way better than the book. When my eyes fluttered open, Rich had a look of horror on his face.
"Are you OK?" he asked frantically.
I blinked as I nodded. "More than OK." Damn, my voice didn't even sound like my own.
"You're still shaking," he said as he pulled me into his arms.
I patted him on his back. "Aftershocks, honey. You win, you rocked the bed."

Rich's face relaxed and his lips curved into a smile. You'd think that I would've been in recovery mode. But Rich's smile turned me on like a gas lamp. I wrapped my leg around his waist, pulling him against my heat. "You want some more?" His lips grazed my ear and I thrust into him.
"What do you think?" I replied then reached down, grabbed his thick erection and slid it into place. Rich pumped in and out. I ground my hips against him, feeling the heat thinking that I was going to explode again. This time, he came first-- seemingly speaking in tongues--and he collapsed on top of me. His sweat mixing with mine, making a huge wet spot in the sheets. "That was amazing," he said. "You stay wet. I love that."
"Umm." I laid against his damp chest and closed my eyes. "You feel good, too."
"Can we sleep now?" He kissed me on my forehead.
"For a little while."

Rich and I slept through the night and I was beginning to think this thing might work out. But when I woke up at five in the morning because his phone was buzzing, I couldn't help myself, I reached for it to see who was calling.
The thing about an iPhone is, people can't help but add pictures to their contacts. So, this was a woman calling him at this time of morning. From her picture, which included tattoos across her shoulders, it had to be his ex. My first instinct was to throw the phone at his head. When the phone stopped vibrating, I grabbed it and rushed into the bathroom. No one calls a man at five in the morning if something isn't going on.
Rich didn't have a passcode on his phone, so getting to his text messages was a breeze. Part of me wondered, why was I doing this. Rich wasn't my man, yet. But if we were taking steps to get there then I should be the only woman in his life. I'd been there and done that sharing shit before and I was not going to do it again-- at least not knowingly. And according to the messages I began to read, Rich was a fucking Mack.
 He had to go!
Not only was he still seeing his ex, she saw us together. He told her that I was his trainee. What?! This lying assclown. Storming out of the bathroom, I expected Rich to be awake and searching for his phone. He was sleeping. Resting peacefully.
Bastard.

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