by Coco Miller
“I’m fine. I loved it.”
So the fuck did I.
We leave my apartment, and the sun blinds us as we step onto the curb. Spencer is there waiting and opens the car door for us.
“To the museum,” I instruct.
Erika raises a quizzical brow, her lip turning upward.
“Trust me,” I say, as I squeeze her body against mine.
* * *
We pull up to the museum in mid-afternoon.
“This is where we first met,” Erika says, smiling as she steps out of the car.
“Yes, it is.”
We enter the museum and stop by the little café just inside.
“Perfect,” Erika says as she glances at the menu that hangs from the wall. We order some baguettes and coffee and make our way to a tiny wrought iron table.
“So would you like to look at some artwork after we eat and reminisce about our first meeting?” I chuckle.
“Yes, that would be wonderful.”
She takes a bite of her baguette and rolls her eyes back in her head. The action makes my dick twitch in my pants, and I sigh heavily. Just watching her devour her sandwich stuns me into silence. I watch her as she takes each bite and closes my eyes. The faces she makes are similar to when she comes. Beautiful.
“Are you going to eat?” She laughs as she finishes off the last of her food. She picks up her coffee and takes one final swig before throwing it into the garbage. Then she strolls back over to where I sit mesmerized by her.
“Are you ready to go?” I ask.
“Sure.”
She reaches her hand down to me and I take it as I rise from my seat. I throw my untouched sandwich and coffee into the trash as we headed deeper into the museum.
Painting after painting hang from the walls. We walk around gazing at each piece. She loves the more colorful paintings. As I watch her study the art, I become transfixed. Her eyes roam each piece and studies each one’s textures while I just watch her instead.
“You like art?”
“Yes, they are each so beautiful in their own way. There isn’t a piece of art that I’ve seen that I didn’t respect. Think about the artist, right? Think about how they’ve put their heart and soul into each piece. That’s what I’ve realized over the years. That’s why I love it.”
Damn...she loves art. She loves jazz. She loves to laugh. She loves the water. She loves to fuck. She is like my perfect match.
“Do you ever feel like the weight of the world rests on your shoulders?” she asks.
Damn...she even gives a shit about what I’m thinking.
“No, I have everything I could ever possibly want,” I tell her. “Stress is something I rarely encounter. If a problem arises, I usually pay my way out of it. Money solves all problems.”
“Really? I don’t think every problem can be solved with money.”
We sit down on a wooden bench close to a Grecian statue. Taking a deep breath, I reach my hand over to her hair to brush it aside.
“Maybe, but I’ve never really had any problem I couldn’t buy my way out of.”
“Like you paying me ten million dollars to get a bill through Congress.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Wouldn’t it just be easier to pay off someone to vote your way?”
“That would be illegal, Erika, and what we’re doing isn’t.”
I watch her a moment as she sits listening to me in silence, then I continue.
“I guess that makes me sound a little spoiled, huh? It’s just, after years of hard work, I need to protect myself and money helps me do that.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that, but let me ask you, are you happy with your life?”
“Sure I am, are you?” I ask.
“I wasn’t for a long time, but I’m getting there.”
“What do you mean you weren’t?”
She smiles but then drops her eyes to the floor. “Just sometimes you think your life is headed down one path, and then something happens and everything changes.”
I realize that while we always enjoy our time together, Erika knows way more about me than I know about her. She has a knack for side stepping any questions about her life.
“What changed?” I ask.
“I lost my job.” She raises her eyes to stare into mine. “And then I met you.”
My eyes lock with hers, and I drop my lips to hers and claim them. I can feel that she isn’t telling me everything, but I don’t want to press her for more information. She has plenty of time to tell me whatever it is when she wants to.
Kissing her was soothing, and normal, and right. I don’t want to stop and feel the need behind the kiss grow. She deepens the kiss, and I let out a deep growl. Remembering where we are I release my hold on her and break away.
“I should get home.” She rises from the bench and I follow her.
“What are you doing tomorrow evening? I’d like to cook for you.”
“A millionaire who cooks. Well I can’t miss that, now can I?” Her eyes come alive with a sudden playfulness.
“Not exactly,” I say, laughing.
“You don’t exactly cook?”
“I’m not exactly a millionaire. Try a billionaire who cooks.” I say with a bit of cockiness as her eyes widen.
“Oh,” she whispers. “I guess that’s why ten million is like Monopoly money to you.”
“I wouldn’t say that. Ten million is ten million.”
I pull her into a quick hug before leaving the museum.
“Only a billionaire would say some crazy ish like that.” She laughs.
Chapter Sixteen
The following evening, I have Anna stop by the store to get ingredients for my dinner. I set my jazz Spotify playlist to play through the sound system in the house as I prepare to cook. Spencer leaves to pick up Erika and nerves settle deep in my stomach.
Bruschetta Chicken.
I think this will impress her.
Almost as soon as I’d start in on my chopping and sautéing to the soothing strains of John Coltrane, there is a knock at the door, and I rush to answer it. Erika’s beauty sends shockwaves through my system as I stand gaping at her.
“Come in, I just started on dinner.” I say as I take her coat and lead her inside. “Would you like some wine? I have a great Pinot Grigio that would go well with the chicken?”
“Sure, I’d love a glass.” she says, pulling up a stool as she sits in the kitchen to watch me work. She taps her foot to the beat of the light jazz tune playing and smiles at me.
I grab a glass and open the bottle. “Here you are.”
“Thank you.”
While the chicken simmers, we settle onto the sofa to sip some wine. She moves closer to me as I listen to my own heartbeat drum in my ears.
“Tell me something about you,” I say. “You’re my so-called fiancee, and I still don’t know much about you.”
“I’m deathly afraid of spiders. Like really afraid. When I was young, I was coming home from school once, and a boy in my class had placed three jumping spiders into my backpack.”
“How old were you?” I ask.
“Like ten. Anyway, when I got home to get out my homework, they all jumped out and scared me half to death.” She shivers at the long-ago memory.
I wrap her into a hug. “If I had known you then, I would have whipped that boy’s ten-year-old ass.”
“It’s okay.” She laughs. “Just don’t think of ever getting me one as a gift.”
“Duly noted. No spiders.”
“What about you? Anything you’re afraid of?” She leans into my chest as she asks.
I thought long and hard about that question.
Do I have any fears?
“No, not really,” I say.
“There has to be one thing you’re afraid of.” Her hand brushes across my chest.
“Hmm, maybe you,” I reply, chuckling.
She swats at my chest as she giggles; it sounds like a waterfall in the rainfores
t.
“Why would you be scared of me?” she asks.
“Just the way you make me feel is terrifying. We are supposed to be faking this thing.”
“And we’re not any longer?”
“I think you know the answer to that.”
“Well I’m kind of afraid too. I was hurt before in the past.”
“I definitely don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know you don’t. At least I think you don’t, but I’m still a little scared.”
The timer goes off, letting us know the food was ready. The smell of tomatoes, basil, and balsamic overpowers the kitchen. I breathe it in.
As we move toward the kitchen counter, Erika pulls at her pink sweater.
“Is it too hot in here?” I ask.
“No. Well, maybe a little.”
“You can always take the sweater off.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her as she cracks a smile.
“Then we’ll never eat.”
“Oh, one of us will definitely be eating.” I wiggle an eyebrow as I lick the corner of my lips.
“Very funny.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll adjust the temperature.” I hold both arms in surrender and cross toward the AC unit. To say it grew hot having Erika near me was an understatement. I feel overheated every time she is near.
She leans over and opens the oven as my mouth waters.
“I’m very proud,” she says.
“Why’s that?”
“My fiance really is good at everything.”
“Well, I try to be.” I flash her a big grin, as she carries the dish over to the dining table.
After placing a nice serving on her plate, I pick up the fork and feed her a bite. Her succulent lips open for me as the fork enters her mouth. She closes her lips around the food as her eyes close.
“Mmm,” she coos, opening her eyes.
My body heat kicks up a notch, and I drag my finger along the neckline of my shirt. I slide the fork along her plate and pick up another helping.
We enjoy our meal, and afterwards I go to the fridge and pull out a chocolate cream pie that I suspected Erika would adore.
“I know how much you love chocolate,” I say as I bring the pie over with two forks.
“Oh wow, this looks delicious.”
I scoop the fork into the pie and bring it to her lips. A small drop of chocolate drips down and lands on her pink sweater.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry. Take it off. Let me get it in the wash for you.”
“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.” She stands and removes her sweater over her head. Her black lacy bra accentuates her full breasts, and all I seem to want to do is to reach out and fondle them. Instead, though, I rush her sweater into the laundry room.
When I walk back into the dining room, Erika is standing there. Her bra is gone, and she has chocolate smeared across her breasts. I lick my lips and stalk closer.
Leaning my head in, I run my tongue along her nipples, tasting the chocolate and whip cream. Her nipple puckers in my mouth and I graze my teeth along it. Once all the chocolate is gone from her skin, she moans.
“I think we may need a shower,” she says sexily as she lowers her arms and unbuckles my pants. They fall to the floor as I pick her up and carry her into the bathroom.
With the hot shower running, we continue to undress each other. Her eyes radiate want and need through me, bringing my system to a new level of arousal. She is stunning, and addictive, and I can’t wait to feel her again.
We step under the stream of hot water and wash each other’s bodies. The more I touch her, the harder I become. Her eyes hold mine as I lather her with soap. I move behind her, bending her over, and running my hands down her soaked back.
“Oh God, Chance,” she cries.
I am standing on heaven’s doorstep, begging for entry, as I spread her legs apart. With one quick thrust, I entered her from behind.
“Hell, you feel amazing,” I say. “This pussy is amazing.”
And I wasn’t lying. She feels more delicious than the time before. The water cascades over us both, and my need grows heavy. Her inner walls acclimate to my size, and I begin to pump myself into her.
Slapping our bodies together, my body comes alive with a raw energy. She feels it too. I was sure of it. Her body met mine stroke for stroke as we fucked in the shower. After we both came crashing down from our pleasure, we left the shower and dried each other off.
“I don’t think I’m ever going to get tired of your body.” I move to pick up her clothes from the tile floor.
“I don’t think I ever want you to get tired of it.” Her eyes haze over, as she helps grab a few items.
“I have a shirt you can wear.”
I lean toward her and meet her lips with mine. She opens her mouth to me, sweeping her tongue along mine.
A purr escapes her throat and I smile. She breaks the kiss, and her long lashes fluttered over her eyes as she stares up to me. “What’s so funny?”
“I love the noises you make when I kiss you,” I answer.
She smiles back and with the towel wrapped around her body, she holds the spoiled clothes against her chest.
“And I love the noises you make when you fuck me,” she says.
She looks away in slight embarrassment as a huge smile breaks along my face. I can’t believe my sweet, classy, Erika uttered those words, and hearing her say them has made me rock hard again.
Chapter Seventeen
While her clothes are in the laundry, we sit on the couch, nestled together with her in my lap as I run my fingers over her deliciously salty skin.
“I love your skin,” I say.
“I love your fingers.”
“I could touch you all night.”
“I’d like that,” she coos as she leans into my touch.
The evening stars shine through the huge pane glass windows and make it the perfect setting, but my all-too-white walls seem to scream, and she eventually she takes notice.
“Why don’t you have any pictures hanging around your house? You just have the map and then the photo above your bed.” She raises her head to stare into my eyes.
“I don’t know. I guess I’ve just never found anything that’s moved me enough to put it up.”
“Well, the picture above your bed is very pretty. The city lights blurring over the road.”
“Yeah, when I saw it I knew I had to have it. It moved me somehow—the colors and frenzied action of it all. It makes me feel alive. When the cars speed past, it is a rush of adrenaline for me,” I say, remembering the lights of the traffic scene. Watching the cars from high up race to their destinations, speeding through the streets, make me feel almost like a god.
“And what about the map? Is there a story about it?”
“Not really. I just put pins in it for everywhere I’ve ever been.”
“You’ve been to a lot of places, haven’t you?”
“It comes with the job, but I like this city more.”
“Do you travel a lot for work?”
I lean in and snuggle her closer to my body. The feeling of her pressing up against me turns me on again.
“Yeah, sometimes.” I never thought about how much I travel or if there is anywhere I really wanted to go.
“What about when you settle down and have kids?”
“What about it?” I ask.
“Do you think your wife and kids will want you traipsing all over the world?” She positions herself to stare into my eyes. Waiting for truth.
“I would think that they could come along. I think they’d like that.”
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean maybe? Wouldn’t you like it?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”
“Oh, well, I would cross that bridge when I came to it, I guess. If my wife and kids wanted me home, I guess I’d stay home. I’ve never really thought about children though.”
“Really? Why not?”
“I don’t kn
ow. Have you?” I stare into her eyes just as deeply as she has been staring into mine.
“Yes, I want a family. I’ve always wanted one.”
“Oh,” I say, lying her body back down across me. Her gaze is hot; it is absorbing me.
“Did I scare you off?” she chuckles. “Does my faux fiancee not want and pretend children?”
“No, I don’t scare that easily.”
“Good.” She turns around and plants her lips to mine. We kiss for a long moment and after she moans, I move her lower to the couch.
“No, Chance. I really have to get going. Look at the time,” she says as she rises from the couch.
“Shit, I didn’t realize it was so late. Let me check on your clothes.” I walk into the laundry room and open the dryer. Handing the sweater to Erika, she dresses herself and smiles at me.
“Why doesn’t a billionaire have a maid to handle the laundry?”
“Because this billionaire has been washing his own clothes since he was thirteen years old.”
“Oh, ok. So you’re a different kind of billionaire. A renaissance kind of billionaire.” She chuckles.
“I guess so, babe.” I tap her ass playfully.
She stares quietly at me for a moment then speaks.
“Well...I had a great time this evening. I wish I could stay, but I have a meeting in the morning,” she says, walking out of the laundry room.
“Would you like me to call your boss and cancel it?” I joke (but not really).
“I would love that,” she grins. “But it’s not a work meeting.”
My ears perk up, and my eyes grow big. “Oh?” I say.
She notices my questioning glance then drops her shoulders and smiles. “Doctor’s appointment. I need more pills.”
“Oh, in that case, you’d better get going,” I laugh as I push her toward the front door. “Get that prescription...stat!”
Before she leaves, I pull her into my arms and squeeze her tight.
“I want to see you again,” I whisper into her dark hair.
“I’d like that.”
“I’ll see you at work, and we can figure something out.”
I kiss her goodnight, and she pushes the button for the elevator. She turns and smiles one last time for the evening, and the moon outlines her body as she steps into the elevator.
