Page 20 of Game Change

That shocks me. I know he’s well off. He admitted it, but being told he's flying on a private plane still surprises me. There’s rich, and then there’s private plane rich.

“Must be nice,” is all I can think of to say.

“It’s not nice. Not at all. It’s awful. You know what’s nice? Your breasts. Both sets of your lips and your ass. Not to mention the curve of your hips. I’d rather have my hands all over your soft, supple skin.Thatwould be nice.” His words set my body on fire, and the throbbing between my legs starts. It’s been dormant all week, but my need for him awakens each time I talk to him.

“Your hands on my body sounds way beyond nice.” I want to tell him how much I want to kiss him and how I want to take him in my mouth. I want to remind him of how good he tastes and how I’ve never swallowed another man’s cum before him, but the words die in my throat.

“Why are you blushing?” he asks.

“How do you know I’m blushing?” I put a hand to my cheek and fan my face.

“Because you blush all the time, and you always blush after I hold you through an orgasm. Now, tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking about how I want to take all of you in my mouth. I want to taste your cum. I want to swallow it.”

He groans and says, “That was a bad idea. Now I have an erection in the—”

“In the private plane waiting room?”

“I have my backpack on my lap to hide it. I should be in the air on my way to you. And inside of you.”

“Well, I want that too. I’m sick of winter.” I stomp my feet in the middle of my kitchen. I have the news on in the background, and even though it’s on mute, I can tell it's not good. The bad weather stretches across many states in the Northeast, and we’re projected to get at least a foot of it.

He won’t likely be here for a couple of more days, and he starts his new job on Monday.

“Tell me about your new job,” I say in an attempt to change the subject because my body still has not calmed down.

“I want to tell you that when I see you. We can talk about it over baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and string beans.” I smile at that. I don’t know if the man can cook, but even if it tastes bad, I’ll eat it without complaint.

Chapter 12

Colin

It’s past two a.m. on Monday morning when I finally walk through the front door of my condo. The storm meant I spent two more days on the island, so my plans of spending the last two days with Honeybee went out the window.

I haven’t talked to her in hours because it was too late to call by the time I landed after the four-hour flight. Instead of spending the night with her, I’m here alone with only six hours to sleep.

The good news is, my new home is across the street from the office. It’s already furnished, but I resist falling face-first on the couch. I manage to crawl upstairs, pull my toothbrush out of my bag, and brush my teeth. I never sleep with clothes, so I strip naked and climb into bed. I check my phone one last time, and the last text was from Honeybee telling me to text her when I got home.

Me: Home.

I fall asleep with visions of her sweet face and innocent smile.

“So, there are some things we need to discuss,” Uncle Milton says hours later. It’s been a while since I had to dress for work. My previous firm was casual, but my uncle is more old-school. He’s in a tailored suit with a tie. I didn’t bother with the tie, but my suit is as nice as his.

I let out a deep breath before taking a huge gulp of my coffee. I love my uncle. He’s been there for me my entire life, which is more than I can say for my father.

My father was Uncle Milton's older brother, and my mother was my dad's second wife. His kids from his first marriage were grown when he married my mother and had me and my sister. Because of that, I'm not close with my older siblings. My relationship with my older sister is cordial. She’s the mother of one of my nephews, who I adore.

My relationship with my brother is a lot more complicated. He’s never liked me, and the feeling is mutual. He’s done everything to make me and my sister, Lisa, feel like outsiders, and I've avoided him over the years. I haven’t seen him in three years. I have no desire to see him now. This move isn’t about him. It’s about me, and for once, the universe is rewarding me because I met the perfect woman on vacation, and she lives five point three miles away from me.

“What’s that? Do you have an official retirement date?” He hasn’t told his employees. He wants to guide me for a few months before he retires.

“No, but I’ve done a thing.” My uncle scratches the back of his neck. That’s a nervous tick he has, and I wonder what he could have done. We’ve signed a contract for this job. The position is mine. He’s assured me every day for the past few months that the position is mine.

Then I remember my sister, Lisa, always describes our uncle as a genie. He’ll grant us any wish. He’s always spoiled us. He was the uncle who showed up for every event, every holiday, and every graduation, but he’s also a known troublemaker in the family. He always maintains that trouble finds him, not the other way around. He’s a good person, so it’s never bothered me, but one year, he asked me what I wanted for my birthday, and I told him I wanted a bike. He got me the bike, but it came in pieces, and I had to put it together.

When I was at Berkeley, he surprised me with a brand-new sports car. Then I learned that it was the car he had just taken back from his current girlfriend. When she found out he gave it to me, she flew to California to try to get it back. I had to get the police involved.

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