Page 83 of Summer with My Sexy Ex
I disconnect the call.
“Can you be ready in ten minutes?” I ask heading toward the bathroom.
“I’m ready now,” Bristol says.
I look her up and then down. Still no bra. She’s added sandals to her feet. All I can think about is that flimsy, little, lacy thong she’s wearing underneath.
“Let’s go.” My tone is harsher than I intend. We can blame that on my dick for thinking of those fucking panties.
“Yes, sir,” she mocks.
“I think I like you calling me, sir,” I say.
“Don’t get used to it.” She heads for the door.
“We’ll see.” I stare at her ass as I follow her, trying to find the outline of barely there panties underneath her dress.
bristol
I can feelhim staring at my ass as we head downstairs. I did the panty thing on purpose. I wanted his attention. So he can see what he’s missing during those times that I’mnota pathetic pushover who will have sex with him at the push of a dick tip.
And he’s going to have to see it a lot more because we won’t be having sex again. I don’t care what he says or does, how he looks or smells.
No. More. Sex.
Blanche:Uh huh, sure.
I’m serious!
Blanche:I’ll believe it when I see it.
He’s fine without me.
He doesn’t miss me.
When I have sex with him, it clouds my brain.
Must keep a clear head.
Blanche:Good luck with that.
* * *
Blake is surrounded by big boxes in the small room. He has one open and is staring despondently at the contents.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s matchboxes,” he says.
“Okay.”
“Just a huge box of little boxes of matches.”
“What are they for?” Wyatt asks.
“Guests?” Blake guesses.
“What did Taylor say?” I ask.
