Page 31 of Clear Your Mind

I refuse to earn yet another gold medal in overthinking. I said it, it’s out there and that’s that. I spent too many years ignoring red flags, tamping down my connection to my own spirituality, and ignoring my intuition. And what did it cost me? A whole hell of a fucking lot of pain. No more.

I made a promise to myself after I opened my mind back up to things I ignored for the sake of love. That promise was to not hold back my true feelings ever again. For better or for worse, I will be true to myself.

My truth right now is the man who makes me come with back-cracking precision and is willing to eat soul-crushing microwave stir-fry just to be in the same room with me has my heart.

“Joel.”

The sound is barely above a whisper. I feel it more than hear it.

“Excuse me?”

“As much as I like your nicknames for me, when we’re alone, call me Joel.”

“Joel.” I move the letters around my mouth, tasting his name for the first time, and it’s delicious.

His grip slides down from my hips to my ass and I obey his silent command to wrap my legs around his waist. Our lips crash into each other’s. His mouth robs me of all reason. Our bodies move against each other’s wickedly.

“Joel, I need you…now,” I beg against his lips. A grunt is the only answer I receive. I fumble to remove my underwear from beneath my sundress.

Joel leans me against the refrigerator as I finally free them from one leg. When I reach to slide them off the other, he lifts me up and impales me on his cock.

“Fuck,” we shout almost in perfect unison.

I chant his name as he rams me into the refrigerator over and over. Vaguely I hear the cans of soda inside toppling over and rolling along with the thrust of his hips.

He widens his stance, changing the angle and depth enough to bring me to the edge. I dig my nails into his shoulders, chasing the pleasure that’s right there.

Joel shoves my bra up to my neck while pulling down the front of my dress, dropping his mouth to my oversensitive nipple…and bites down, hard.

“Shi-shi-shit,” I pant as I find the ecstasy that we’re chasing.

The micro ripples of pleasure still coursing through my body grow with Joel’s guttural growl when he follows me to that magical place.

Neither of us moves while we come down from the high and bask in the afterglow. His mouth is still at my breast, and I feel his breathing finally slow.

I don’t have the muscle control to hold my legs aloft any longer. Uncrossing my ankles, I let them flop down to dangle above the floor. I can’t help but to laugh out loud when I feel my underwear clinging to my sandal, holding on for dear life.

“What’s so funny, love?” Buddy mumbles sleepily against my rapidly cooling tit. He’s frozen in the same position. He’s holding himself, and by sheer force, me, against the fridge.

I literally just fucked a man into a stupor. Or he fucked himself into one, whatever. I’m still taking credit for it. That thought turns my mild laugh into a fit of laughter, which dislodges him from my body. Allowing me the space to reach down and slide my undies back up into place.

When I look up, my laughter is renewed. Buddy’s standing there, hair mussed, lips swollen, fully dressed, with his dick hanging out through his zipper.

Why the sight is not only funny but somehow sexy at the same time, I can’t say.

He tracks my gaze and looks down. Giving me that famous smirk with a wink, he asks, “What’s that smell?”

That was the last thing I expected to come out of his mouth.

“Um, you mean the now cold burrito, soul-crushing stir-fry, or sex? I mean, there are a lot of smells in here now.”

All smells I need to air out ASAP.

“No, love, you. The shop. The smell when you walk in the front door.”

“Um, amber and sage.”

He tucks himself away and pulls me into his arms. Burying his nose in my neck, he inhales deeply. “That’s it. My new favorite smell. Although soul-crushing stir-fry could be the next big thing.” I smack his shoulder and giggle.

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