Vanilla On Top(31)

Before I have a chance to answer, the tension coiling in my gut ramps up and my body responds quickly. The peak I once raced toward now approaches fast with no effort. I gasp as pleasurable tingles spread out from my privates. “You’re still hard?”

“It doesn’t go soft immediately.” To punctuate his virility, he pumps into me with a steadily increasing pace.

“Oh…hmm…” His movement feels like heaven. “You don’t say?” My hips draw back and then forward, rocking my sweet spot against his pelvis when he thrusts inside.

“You feel incredible.” Without warning, he bites my tight shoulder muscle. Not too hard, but enough to make me notice.

Before I want, my orgasm overcomes me, catapulting me into a universe of shooting stars and rainbow comets of color. Moans rip from my throat and fill the room around us.

Tony lets loose one final burst of speed, pumping inside, sending me further into oblivion when he whispers, “You’re hot when you come.”

For a moment, I feel suspended in a well of sensation, my entire body lit with the release. In the next, my limbs weaken and I sink into the bed, overjoyed with the weight of this handsome man on me.

A small nervous laugh escapes me as I recall his last words. They made me feel good—desirable, even. “Wow,” I pant out. “I think I’m in shock.”

Tony pulls back and kisses my nose. “Can we order in dinner and then go for round two?” He leans down and kisses me with a tenderness I’ve never had from a man. “I’m not ready for the night to be over just yet.”

The bedside clock reveals it’s not even a quarter after six. “Yeah, I could go for some food, too.”



The hours we spent wrapped in each other’s embrace last night will be engraved in my mind forever. It was difficult getting Tony to finally leave for his own bed, and a part of me almost succumbed to his pleas to remain. I’ve never had a man react to me like that before. What it does to a woman’s self-esteem…freakin’ incredible.

I swear, if someone had told me being a bossy bitch would score me love, I’d have done it ages ago. Whoa there…who mentioned love? Where the hell did that thought come from? Could I be falling for a man I met a week ago? How the hell could we know each other well enough for love to come into the equation?

Oh, you don’t know him well enough to love him, but screwing him for hours is fine?

There are times, like this, I wish my parents hadn’t raised me to be logical and fair. The truth I’m unwilling to face stares back at me while I brush my teeth in the morning. I’m starting to really fall for Tony.

Does he feel the same or am I simply a new infatuation? He seems like an intense guy. I’m betting he’s been in more serious sexual relationships than I have. Do I care?

There are parts of myself I’m not comfortable admitting exist…like jealousy. Interestingly enough, I don’t feel jealous toward those other women. No matter what they knew or what they did—he’s not with them anymore—he’s with me.

Yeah, for now. But can you keep him?

A niggling thought deep in my brain surfaces—it’s not about keeping someone. It’s about joining with them. Deciding you’d like to walk the path of life together with them by your side.

I dress for the day, reaching for the new black boots in my closet. Tony made me promise we’d meet after work today, that I’d keep my agreement of a dinner date. I think wearing these boots will be a nice surprise for him later.

Maybe I’ll take a picture and send it to him again. Last night over Chinese food, he admitted to the red high heel picture being the sexiest thing he’d ever received while working, and that it made him hot for me all afternoon.

I zip up the second boot and stand, smoothing the flowing print skirt down my hips. The material flares below the knee, hiding the leather hugging my lower thigh. My black silk blouse ties in nicely with the boots, and today’s overcast weather means I can almost pull off wearing boots this late in the season. I take a glance in the mirror, pleased with what I see, not caring if my choice is slightly out of fashion.

I grab my favorite clunky purse and dash out the door. The quiet ride down the elevator doesn’t race my heart like yesterday. Today, it gives me more time to think about Tony than I’d like. Last night after our mad dash to my place and subsequent ravishing, we were very relaxed in each other’s company.

I was my normal self. Well, that’s not quite true. I felt more at ease than ever, but the resulting persona was more of a mish-mash between the old me and the new me…and she was a person I liked a lot.