Only Good With You

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Only Good With You Page 6

by Zoey Kinsman


  “You mean you wouldn’t lust after me now because I’ve made it?”

  Looking at him sideways, with my face saying that he had to be kidding, I answered, “If, again, as you say you know me, you would know that lust wouldn’t be the first thing that turned me on. Would it?”

  “You mean while we were sucking each other’s face, you weren’t turned on?”

  Now deadpan, I said, “Paul, stop it. You know I was turned on, but that’s not why I sucked your face, as you say.”

  “You know, I think we should write comedy together. We’d be great. But seriously, why are you letting me near you then?”

  “I know you might find this hard to believe, but your mind, your kindness, and yes, your patience are very attractive attributes.”

  He sat back, crossed his arms, and just looked at me, smiling.

  “What? What have I said to amuse you now, Mr. Wickham?”

  “Nothing, except for the fact that I’ve always known that’s what we have in common. Underneath that hard exterior is a very kind woman. That brain is wildly exciting and challenging, and yes, that body calls for me to give it a good pounding.”

  “So we are both kind and smart, we can agree on that?” I reached to shake his hand.

  “Yes, dear friend, we are similar in many ways, but let’s let time do its job and slowly unravel all the mysteries between us.”

  His words had spoken to me again, and I reached for the water once more. Where was Grumpy Cat when I needed her? Paul Wickham was slowly petting her into submission.

  The waiter brought the bill, Paul paid, and we made our way back to the awaiting limo for the ride home. By now the night air was chilly, and he wrapped a warm and reassuring arm around me as we walked toward the limo. I smiled up at him in gratitude. He hugged harder.

  Once back in the limo, he sat right up next to me again. Again instinct, or was it lust, took over.

  After rounds and rounds of touching and groping, I decided to be brave. In that moment, I wanted to know him more. To his amazement, I slid to the floor in front of him, and before he knew it I had his fly undone. The taste of anticipatory sweat between his legs was more intoxicating than any aphrodisiac.

  His pants were open, and I reached inside to release his hard and needy hound. It came to me as if knowingly. Leaning forward, I had him in my mouth in a second, and his moan was beguiling. It motivated me further. Shocked, he just looked at me, and stopping for the briefest second, I motioned for him to lean back and enjoy himself.

  He was huge, but I took him all in and sucked him hard, making sure to touch all his sensitive spots, making sure to tease and taunt him so that he only wanted more. My mouth loved the feel of him inside. I needed and wanted his taste in my mouth. He tried to control the noises coming from him, but it was to no avail. Buzzing and humming along his shaft and sucking hard, within minutes, I had all of him in my mouth, ending his torment. With one long grunt of pleasure, he was good and done.

  And I was wet and horny.

  “Anne, please come sit next to me now.” His eyes were closed tight as he tried to catch his breath.

  I let him put everything back in place and came to sit next to him again, putting my head on his chest and my arms around his middle. We didn’t speak again until he could. I listened, comforted by his frantically beating heart.

  He leaned over and kissed the top of my head and stroked my head so gently now.

  “Well Paul, I guess that nasty boner problem is all fixed!”

  “It’s fixed for now, Anne…but only for now. The problem is that it keeps coming back when I’m around you. What should we do?”

  Looking up at his gorgeous face, our eyes met. No words could speak what my heart felt. Our lips joined slowly and deliberately once more. Lost, we were both vanquished by the feelings of transformation that washed over us. We held on tightly, not knowing what tomorrow might bring.

  When the limo arrived at my place, we didn’t immediately move.

  It was Paul who was first to move us apart. I let myself come undone. It was hard because if I was being truthful, he was beginning to mean something to me. Did I have the same impact on him?

  As if reading my mind, he slowly spoke quietly and low. “I know, slowly. I’ll try my best to go slowly. I will for you dear, sweet Anne, and for us.”

  His words touched me, but I couldn’t speak. I reached to kiss him one last time that evening, and then he left the limo to come around and open the door for me.

  We were back on the sidewalk in front of my home.

  “I have meetings tomorrow night, but I would love it if we could spend all day Saturday together. Could we do that?”

  His eyes beseeched me to agree to his plan, and he was hard to refuse.

  “I guess friends do need to make time to really get to know each other, so yes, I agree. It would be nice to get to know you more.”

  He liked my coyness and replied, “Yes, and I would absolutely like to get to know you more, too, if you know what I mean.”

  I playfully smacked his arm.

  “I know! What a great evening this has been. Thank you for letting me into your life a bit, and for that wonderful surprise. I’ll cherish the memory always.”

  “Well, see you Saturday then.” I started to walk away. Suddenly, I remembered that I had none of his personal information and turned back toward him. “Paul, I don’t even know how to get in touch with you if I need to. Do you have anything on you to write that info down for me? Or I could just put it in my cell.”

  “No need, Anne. I have your work email addy. I’ll send you the details.”

  “How do you have my work email addy? I don’t usually give it out unless you’re industry people.”

  “I took your card that day many moons ago and kept it on me. I believe from my flower delivery that you’re at the same place using the same email. Am I right?”

  Not caring what the driver thought, I ran back to him and kissed him passionately, as answer to his question and in appreciation.

  “You kept my card all these years?”

  “Yes, I told you I was smitten. I told you I couldn’t get you out of my head and hoped one day to be able to come to you. Now do you believe me?”

  I kissed him again and then headed into my home, securely closed the door behind me, and breathed a sigh of relief. One more moment with him and I would have let him have his way with me, let him do whatever he wanted with me.

  Grumpy Cat helped get me back through the door, back to reason.

  * * * *

  Sleep was difficult that night. That smell of his that I loved was all over me, and I wasn’t washing it off just yet. It made me go to the sexy places in my mind that my emotional self was just not ready to embrace. Maybe it was time to be brave and take a chance again, and to believe again that relationships could be good. Shit, truth be told, if I was being really honest with myself, I wanted him near me and in my bed, too.

  Chapter 3

  When I woke the next morning, I missed him. It was a profound empty feeling deep in my belly. What did it mean to miss someone you had only just met and had brief torrid times with, to want to reach for them and hope they reached back?

  My analytical mind was taking over, when I just wanted to lie in bed and daydream about his luscious taste and his well-hung cock that might just make me want more.

  Fighting that yearning kind of feeling that washed over me when I thought of him, logic tried to dictate my internal dialogue. Fuck-off just for once, logic! I wanted him.

  Now I had to figure out what to do with that eye-opening revelation.

  The phone rang as I tried to make sense of it all. Answering it, I hoped it would be him. Was I in some kind of trouble, or just in some kind of lustful stage in my life?

  “Anne, where are you? Are you all right? Do you need me to come?”

  “What are you talking about? I’m fine. I was just getting up. What time is it?” I looked over to my nightstand to see that it was nine
in the morning. I had slept in! I never did that. Hadn’t I heard the alarm? Yes, I was in some kind of trouble. He was transfixing my reality. I had to get a grip. “I’m fine. I had a hard time falling asleep last night and must have just slept in to make up the hours. Is it very busy there?” What a treasure Trish was. She was holding down the fort for some kind of sick me.

  “I’ve got it all under control, but let me send a car for you so you can just relax and get here when you’re ready. Sound good?”

  “Yes, and have I told you lately how much I appreciate you? Because I really do.”

  There was silence at the other end, and I thought Trish was shocked to hear me be so honest with her. My displays of gratitude were always so measured. The shift in me spoke honestly to her.

  “Wow, thanks Anne. I always knew it, but sometimes it’s just nice to hear. I really appreciate it. Okay, so let me set things up. I’ll have the car get you at ten. Is that good?”

  “Yes, it’s fabulous. See you soon.”

  After I hung up, I quickly rushed to the shower. There was no more time right now to think on silly Paul Wickham scenarios.

  * * * *

  Running into the office and flinging my jacket onto the chair, I quickly checked email and Trish came in with a stack of papers. I had some serious catching up to do. Quickly realizing I needed to put more hours in, I thought about how I just couldn’t give up a whole day tomorrow with Paul.

  One worry at a time! I decided to get down to business, focus, and see what I could get done. I tied my hair up and put my reading glasses on, and off into the written world of words I went. Publishers were waiting on call backs and accepted authors were waiting on results from the fruit of their endeavors.

  As I plugged away, I noticed an email had come in from Paul. He wanted to confirm details for our day together. Writing back, I explained that I was so far behind and it was his fault, adding an “lol” at the end of that sentence. I offered instead to meet up for dinner at the end of my work day.

  He quickly wrote back to say that my idea was unacceptable, and that I had already committed.

  I wrote back again to say that I was sorry but business before pleasure, and I tried to soften him up by letting him know that he was indeed a great pleasure. I added a smiley emoji face to that.

  You’re a professional tease, was his next answer.

  He finally agreed to come to the office to pick me up at four o’clock, and we could go for cocktails first and then dinner.

  My note back to him said, Thank you for your understanding and patience. See you soon, and hope your Friday is great.

  I had no idea what he was doing today, but I was all of a sudden curious to know. Was he seeing other people and playing the field? Did they still even use that expression? I would have to look it up in the Urban Dictionary.

  The rest of the day flew by, and when I crawled home at seven o’clock, I ate some take out quickly and fell into bed and into a deep sleep. I set the alarm a bit earlier so I could get a workout class in. Having missed the last few days, I was scared the flab would fall even further. Yeah, issues.

  But I woke unexpectedly at two in the morning. With a quick jolt I sat straight up in bed. Before my eyes I still saw the movie-like dream running in front of me. Paul was dancing with a woman closely in his arms, and they seemed inseparable. When he slowly turned her in dance, I saw his partner’s face and it wasn’t mine. I didn’t recognize her. Was my subconscious trying to warn me? Who was that woman? My innate sense of distrust rolled over me. Yes, I was obviously still that cynical.

  Reminding myself that it was only a dream, I laid back down to try and sleep again. But the movie played on in my head. Well, it was clear to me that there was so much more I needed to know about Paul Wickham.

  I fell back to sleep about an hour later. When the hazy morning sun rose and the alarm blared, I was ready to greet the day, knowing that after work he would be there again.

  It was Saturday and I usually did a dress down day, but something in me wanted to do pretty, something wanted to see his reaction to my version of pretty.

  I chose a knee-length, soft pink pastel, almost but not quite mini dress. It was billowing and free-flowing, with a plunging neckline and dramatic boho-inspired flared sleeves with smocked elastic detailing. The choice was quite pretty in my estimation. Matched with a simple white flip flop, I was ready to go.

  But first there was the gym. I grabbed my bag, made it to the car, and dashed off to catch one of their first classes. I opted for a sculpting class to tone and redefine my muscles. Could an hour class redefine what years of life experience had carved onto me? Nonetheless, I had to do it, or just give in and let it all hang out. I chose life. Over and over, through all my experiences, when I could have easily given up, I chose life. Maybe Grumpy Cat was just a safe cover for all the fight that rested within me.

  My thoughts went too deep again.

  I watched the twenty-something blonde instructor with the fake highlights and hair tied up tighter than her vagina performing the routine so easily. Yes, I was jealous; jealous of her body that could move in ways that mine struggled with now. Yes, I was jealous that her skin was perfectly clear and taut and tanned. Shit, I was really jealous! Well, I knew that was not good. Well, I bet she couldn’t give as good a blow job as me. That was my consolation.

  Before Paul Wickham, I had a good understanding and acceptance of my place in life. I was stable in my thought. Now, he was mixing me all up. My emotions were everywhere. At one moment I wondered if he was with someone else, and then the next I was guessing if I was physically good enough for him. Where had my cool gone?

  Showering at the gym and putting my outfit back on, I applied my “natural look” make-up again. I let my hair flow freely. Carefully examining myself in those big gym mirrors, I saw my reflection looking back at me. I was still me. I was still pretty. I still had it, and frankly, damn him, I owned this older self. He had choices, too, whether to accept or reject.

  With that re-established self-assurance, happily now and almost dance-like I made my way to the office. Yeah, he had choices, too. I was just going to do me. Fuck the rest of the psychological noise floating around in my head.

  Trish wasn’t in today, so I opened up and made my way back to my office. There were a few companies on the floor working, but the building was pretty quiet, good for concentrating.

  Plugging away at the work, I eventually got caught up and everything ready for Monday. Sitting back and just enjoying a sense of accomplishment, I noticed it was almost four o’clock. Did I need to powder my nose? Ha, that idea made me laugh to myself. But I did in the end take out my compact and have a quick look and make a quick dab. Then I reapplied my Mad about Madness soft pink lipstick. How appropriate.

  He took me by surprise. When I wasn’t looking, he was actually already there standing at the doorway looking at me…and smiling.

  “Are you putting that lipstick on for me to kiss off?”

  “No, I’m putting it on for me.” My eyes caught the twinkle in his.

  Standing and walking toward him, I wasn’t surprised when he got to me first.

  He lifted me up, moved me back to my desk, and sat me right down on top of it. Papers be damned! Leaning forward, his arms pulled me toward him and our mouths connected over and over again, wet and seeking, making my insides turn over with goodness. My arms wrapped tightly around his waist and my legs spread to let him come closer. His arms massaged my tired shoulders and back as if he knew my struggles. But our lips never lost connection. Kisses sweet and juicy that covered our faces, that tasted divine, left me feeling hungry for more.

  Then I felt his hands on the sides of my thighs. He had expertly moved down. Slowly he pushed my dress up and massaged my legs, moving his hands up and down my thighs as if he knew them, as if he owned them. Own them, please own them, Paul, I heard my inner voice speak. Little tiny moans of joy escaped me. I felt his thumbs pressing against the sides of my pussy till it was b
egging for him. Mercilessly he teased, trying to show me how good it could be between us. He was definitely making a good case. But when he tried to go further, I jerked back and put a halt to it.

  “So, who’s the tease now, Paul Wickham?” I was struggling to catch my breath.

  “Come here, woman!” And he pulled me back up close to him. “It’s only been a day, but I’ve missed you. Let me hold you.” We hugged tightly until we both could breathe again. “Remember, Anne, what I told you. I can only take so much of this. I mean it. I’m not trying to be mean, but I need you.”

  His honesty was refreshing. Never had a man spoken those words so freely to me before.

  “Well then, I think you need to feed me and spend some time with me to understand me better.” When he leaned back, I quickly jumped off the table and asked, “So where are you taking me to eat?”

  Grabbing my purse from behind the desk, I waited for his answer.

  “It’s a surprise. Let’s lock up and go.” Hand in hand we walked to the parking lot, and I was surprised to learn that he didn’t take limos everywhere and told him so.

  “I’m not the spoiled actor type. I like to be self-sufficient, too. You’re not the only one.” His glance back at me was disarming. He did know me.

  He drove an SUV and mastered that eight-cylinder beast well, fast and slick. Would his lovemaking be the same? We opened the windows and let the fresh summer air envelope our senses while LP hauntingly sang her tunes out loud, seemingly just for us. We both had a penchant for the different in our creative tastes. We both had, it seemed, good taste.

  “This is so wonderful.”

  “What is so wonderful?”

  “It’s so wonderful just sitting here with you relaxing, enjoying the evening and listening to good music. Thank you for this.” My smile at him was genuine and came from the gut.

  “When was the last time you went out for some fun?” He looked at me all serious now.

 

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