Page 40 of Love You A Latte

I pull back just enough to see her, to watch her find her pleasure as her pussy clenches around my fingers. She grinds into my palm and the way she says my name, panting it like it’s a prayer, a reverent, breathy chant, it’s too much.

My insides clench as I watch her come apart, and my own orgasm crashes over me.

~~~

I’m sore and tired the next morning, my body wrung out and my emotions already drained, but last night was undeniably worth it. I attempt to wake Addison with a line of gentle kisses across her collarbone, but she swats at me and rolls over with a mumble. I chuckle as I memorize the sight of her in my bed.

It’s eight in the morning, not that early for most folks, but Addison doesn’t function before nine. If she wants to make her flight, though, she needs to get up.

“Come on, sweets,” I urge, rolling on top of her to drop a kiss to each eyelid. “Time to open these pretty blues.”

“No thanks,” Addison mumbles, tugging at the blanket in an attempt to cover her face. Too bad I won’t take no for an answer this time.

“Five minutes,” I say, then stride into my kitchen to start the coffee and pack us some leftover pastries for the road.

Unsurprisingly, she’s not out of bed when I return. She’s curled on her side, one arm hanging off the bed, and a tiny bit of drool leaking from the corner of her mouth onto the pillow. I grin and consider taking a photo, but don’t want to embarrass her.

I wave the coffee below her nose, and her eyes flutter open at the same time her dangling hand reaches for the mug.

“Ah, ah!” I reprimand, pulling it out of reach. “Not until you’ve sat up.”

Addison squints her eyes. I think she’s trying to glare at me, and I pinch my lips between my teeth to hold in a laugh.

Regardless, she begrudgingly sits up, then proceeds to pull the blankets up around her shoulders. I should have thought of that.

“Nope, no blankets either.”

“Ugh, Satan.” Addison wrinkles her nose at me and this time I can’t hold it in. Even grouchy Addison is too cute to get mad at. I belt out a laugh. My cheeks stretch around a smile that crinkles my eyes, but her cute little pouty lip holds strong.

“Yep, I’m an absolute demon. Here to torture you with waking up at a normal, respectable hour.”

“Sure feels like torture,” she mumbles, but her limbs are moving and soon enough her hot pink toenails are stark against my floor and I wonder if I’ll ever see them there again.

She snags the mug and takes a sip, shoulders slouching as she nearly falls back into bed.

“Oh no you don’t,” I say.

I pull her up and tug her into the shower, turning on some music to help wake her up as we get ready. I let her wash in peace while I take care of a couple things. Hoping for the best, planning for the best, reminding myself that it might not turn out how I want it to… but better safe than sorry, right?

Thirty minutes later, I have a moderately caffeinated Addison bouncing into the front seat of my truck as I load her bags into the back. I eye the olive green one already there and wonder if she’s noticed it.

Addison

I finally have enough caffeine in me to be present in the world, and I hop into Frankie’s truck, buckling myself in without putting my coffee down. It’s a classic hazelnut latte this time, extra sweet. Frankie must have assumed I’d need the extra dose of sugar for our early morning start. The truck jolts as they slam the tailgate shut and I turn in my seat, watching them stride to the driver’s door and step up into the cab.

This last week has been like a dream and I’m dreading the part where I have to wake up. It’s been too good to be true, and this feeling of apprehension, that something—everything—is going to go wrong in a moment, won’t leave me alone. I turn the music up and distract myself by singing along as we rumble down the desert highway toward Phoenix.

Frankie glances at me every couple of minutes. Their eyes land on my thighs, bare skin beneath my frayed jean shorts, and my breasts, hardly visible beneath my baggy shirt, and my exposed collarbone and neck where I have my hair braided back. Sometimes they seem to scour my face, imprinting it into their retinas, so I do the same. Neither of us knows what tomorrow will bring, or the next day, or the next.

It’s terrifying.

I finally pull my phone out, having been avoiding it allmorning, to see a “have a safe trip” text from Asim as well as a novel of a message from Everly. I smile, though it feels a bit wistful.

My heart stalls in my chest when I check my email, and time freezes for an endless moment. My eyes feel like they’re going to pop out of my head as they flick back and forth across the screen.

Then it clicks, and I let out an unholy screech as I fling my hands into the air. My phone goes flying, hitting the ceiling before crashing down to the floor, and Frankie whips around in their seat. The movement jerks their hand on the wheel, and the truck goes careening off the side of the road into the tumbleweeds and cacti. Frankie slams on the brakes, the back of the truck fishtailing through the sand as their eyes, wide with alarm, meet my horrified gaze.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

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