Page 65 of The Side Road
When he got home, he rang the florist and ordered a bouquet to be sent to Mia. Again, this was outside the friends-with-benefits rules, but the boundaries were already hazy. The florist suggested bold-coloured tulips. She said they were a classic. Oliver agreed.
On Wednesday morning,Mia sent April a text message informing her she had a few last-minute errands to run and she might be a little late for work. This would not be a problem because the store didn’t open until ten. She then messaged Oliver.
Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on her door. When she opened it, Oliver said, ‘Have I told you how beautiful you are?’
‘Two days ago.’ Their fingers interlaced and they kissed. ‘I know you said no booty calls, but I thought Tash had probably left.’
‘I’m going down on you for an hour.’ He walked past her into the house.
She turned and followed him. ‘That’s a very long time. Honestly, I only need ten minutes.’
‘At least two orgasms.’
Halfway down the hallway, he pulled off his shirt and caught her in his arms. She admired the firm muscles under his smooth skin. The fine hair covering his chest. The line of dark hair that ran from his groin up to his navel. He knew how to kiss her and touch her. How to be with women. What they liked. What she liked.
In the bedroom, he said, ‘Why don’t you sit down?’
She sat, perched on the edge of the bed. He pushed her back, and she rested on her elbows.
Crouching beside her, he lifted her dress, pulled down her knickers, and pushed her legs apart. ‘Mia, your pussy is so wet and open?—’
‘Oliver!’ She sat up. ‘I don’t need a description.’
He couldn’t take his eyes off her vagina. ‘You must really want me.’
She relaxed, once again reclining on the bed. ‘That’s true, I do. I really want you. A week is too long to wait.’
He went down on her. She succumbed, welcoming and encouraging. Soon, her hips thrust toward him, and they found a delightful rhythm. His tongue worked hard and fast, while she lay back on the bed. Raising her arms, she ran her hands through her hair.
‘Oh, my god. Jesus, Oliver!’ Her climax was exquisite.
He raised his head and watched her travel over the edge, trembling. Pausing for a moment, he excused himself. There was something in the kitchen he needed. He came back grinning, an ice cube in his mouth.
The warm feeling of his tongue followed by the cold was a sensation she might never forget. After her second climax,he lay down beside her and stroked her arm with his fingertips. She rolled toward him, her head on his shoulder.
‘I’ve missed that so much. Orgasms are so much better when someone gives them to you.’
‘They’re better when I give them to you. And you taste amazing, like?—’
She placed her hand over his mouth and shook her head.
He laughed. ‘I can give you a lift to work.’
‘But what about you? Don’t you want to…’
‘I’ve had thousands of orgasms. Watching you come makes me incredibly happy.’
She pulled away. ‘Thousands? Really?’
He squirmed. ‘Figure of speech.’
‘Now you’re lying. I’ve had, maybe one hundred. Maybe less than that.’
He frowned, concerned. ‘How is that possible?’
‘Oh, it’s possible. Have you honestly had thousands?’
‘Well, I’ve been having sex for about fifteen years. There are three hundred and sixty-five days in a year. You do the math.’
