“You’re oddly intuitive,” I remark.
“Or I have a very talkative wife,” he corrects with a crooked smirk and a snicker. “Look, I’ll do what I can. Since there’s really not a lot that has to be divvied up between the two of you given her whoring around on you—”
A bark of laughter escapes me, interrupting him. “Is that a technical term?”
“When it comes to Gretchen? Yes,” Stephen deadpans. “Anyway, things should run smoothly. She hasn’t got a leg to stand on, so this could be one of the simplest divorces I’ve ever had the pleasure of processing.”
It’s the best news I’ve heard all day.
After thanking Stephen profusely, I exit his office and make my way to Amelia’s place to share the good news. I’m pretty sure I break the speed limit the entire way to her neighborhood—something I seem to do whenever getting to her is of necessity—and I arrive before I know it, parking in one of the visitor parking spots. Sure, she doesn’t have a vehicle, and I could park in her spot, but the last thing I need is a surprise visit from Alan and having him find my car in her spot.
I let myself into the building with the key Amelia gave me on Monday, and I make my way up the stairs and down the hall. The door to her neighbor’s place opens and he steps out with a bag of trash, looking at me as I walk by. I glance over my shoulder as I arrive at her door and find him standing there, still watching me as I push the key into the deadbolt. “Hey,” I say. “How’s it going?”
He runs his hand through his shaggy blond hair and scratches the back of his neck as he casts his dark eyes down to his feet, mumbling something I can’t understand as he turns and heads for the trash chute. Amelia’s right, the guy’s a little weird, and I think that maybe he has a crush on her.
The minute I close the door behind me and slide the deadbolt into place, a warm—and very naked—body crashes into mine, forcing me back until the doorknob presses into my lower back. Her lips trail up and down my neck as her hands slide up under my suit jacket and push it down my arms.
She moans against my throat, and the sound travels beneath my skin. “I’d had this whole sexy vixen thing planned where you’d come in and find me on the couch or my bed…” She wraps a hand around my tie, her index finger looping over the Windsor knot and tugging it down to loosen it. “But seeing you in this fucking suit…” Her teeth nibble at the skin just below my ear as she pulls the tie from around my neck, and my cock responds with a twitch and a throb while my hands fly to her hips and pull her against me. “God, it just makes me so damn hot.”
Her fingers are swift and precise as she slips each small button through its eyelet and removes my shirt, running her hands over my chest and down my abdomen until she reaches my belt. My muscles quiver under her touch as she undoes the buckle and then the button on my slacks, and she takes extra care to slide my zipper down over my now extremely hard cock. I groan, dropping my face to kiss her, but before my lips can touch hers, she drops to her knees before me, hooking her fingers into the waist of my pants and tugging them down carefully.
Seeing her down there, eyeing my dick and licking her lips as she wraps her hand around it flips the switch in my brain to auto-pilot. I’ve imagined what it would feel like to be buried to the hilt in her mouth—envisioned what it would be like to watch her head move back and forth as my engorged cock disappears between her red, swollen lips—but seeing her there, her body trembling in anticipation as she leans forward and parts her lips has me struggling to keep from blowing my load before it’s time.
Then her perfect pink tongue peeks out, and the minute it touches the tip of my cock, tasting the small drop of moisture that had gathered there, I snap back to reality and hold her just out of reach by her shoulders. “Wait,” I pant, breathless even though we haven’t even done anything yet.
Her hands run over my thighs, her fingers curling and biting into my skin as she looks up at me pleadingly, and she even releases a tiny whimper. “Owen,” she whispers, shifting back and forth between her knees and trying to scoot closer again. “I want you in my mouth. Every last glorious inch of you.”
Well, now she’s just sweet-talking me.
It’s really hard for me to not give into her when she looks up at me with those big eyes, but I have to…for now. “Amelia,” I say, my voice thick and raspy. “You have no idea how much I want that, too, but we have to wait.”
“Why?” She brings a hand back to my cock and strokes it, forcing my resolve to crumble a little and my inner caveman to rush to the surface before I am forced to bitch-slap him back into submission. Her sexual confidence astounds me, and there’s a part of me that wants to know where she learned this. Of course, the other half knows that that particular conversation would likely end with me in jail after having beaten every man that’s ever laid a hand—or even just his eyes—on her.