Page 31 of Sweeter Than Fiction

As Don is holding the door open for me, he says, “Go get some sleep.”

“Yes, sir,” I joke with a small salute.

A small, devious smile crosses his lips. “Good girl.”

I know he’s just kidding, but his words give me all the tingles. I immediately picture his deep voice saying those words in a completely different context.

Okay, I definitely like it.

Chapter Twelve

Don

“Talk to me, Hal,” I say as we begin our usual walkthrough of the job site. Every day, I insist we do this once in the morning and once after lunch.

I’m sure it drives my foreman crazy because he hates being micromanaged. But I don’t give a shit. I can’t have any more screw-ups that will push progress back even further.

“They are finishing the drywall on floor 11 today and should move onto 12 tomorrow.”

“Good,” I reply. “What else?”

He goes on to fill me in on more details. While I’m at work, I do my best to give all my focus to the job. But I find my thoughts still drifting toward Abby.

It’s been almost a week since we had dinner in my apartment. And we’ve spent every night together since. We’ve made it to season two of Gilmore Girls. I never pictured that’s how I’d be spending my nights in New York City, but I have to say I enjoy it more than I did when I was constantly going out.

I don’t consider myself an introvert by any means, but there’s something comforting about staying home and just hanging out.

Maybe it’s just the fact that I’m doing it with Abby that makes it so appealing.

Hell, I haven’t even missed getting laid. I haven’t so much as considered opening any of my dating apps or texting any other women.

Now, I’m not saying that I don’t jerk off in the shower once in a while. I still get horny. But I have no intention of finding some random chick to bring home and bang. The thought of it doesn’t even sound like fun.

Hanging out with Abby sounds like a much better time—even knowing I’m not going to get laid.

Has the thought of fucking Abby crossed my mind?

Definitely.

I hate the fact that she’s been with a slew of guys who didn’t give a shit about her pleasure or finding out exactly what it is that she likes. I’d love to go down that road with her.

My cock would really love it.

I wonder what noises she would make when she’s right on the edge of coming. Would she quietly moan? Or would she scream my name? What would she do if I called her a good girl?

That one, I already know the answer to. I saw the look on her face as I jokingly said it as she was leaving my apartment.

She liked it.

But I don’t want to ruin what the two of us have. It’s too special.

Speaking of Abby, my phone chimes with a text from her.

Abby: Hey, we may want to do a raincheck for tonight. I don’t feel well, and I don’t want you to get sick.

Me: What’s wrong? Do you know what you have?

Abby: I’m thinking it’s just a bad cold, but I feel like crap.

---