Page 15 of Tryst
She strokes my bottom lip with her tongue and says, “Taste me.”
I'd like nothing better. “Come closer.” I settle for a kiss as to not disrespect her parents further in their home. I stroke my tongue against hers for one last taste, suckling on her lower lip, remembering the last time I did this between her legs. “I should go. Your parents are going to start wondering what's taking me so long.”
“Don't,” she whines.
She rests her head against mine, and I stand letting her slide down my body and fix her blouse back. Holding her face in my hands, I regretfully place a simple kiss on her pouted lips. “Goodnight, Jade.”
She gives me a weak smile as I leave. Outside the door, I give myself a few minutes to get rid of the bulging ache between my legs. This has to stop. I'm deceiving my closest friends. I was seconds away from having sex with her in their house. They could have walked in at any minute and then what would I have said?I'm having a summer fling with your daughter?That would have gone over about as well as a hit and run. Starting tomorrow, this has to end.
Oh god, this is the morning from hell. What did I do to deserve to get this? I stand from the toilet holding my stomach and rinse out my mouth. There's a knock at my apartment door as I drag myself past the couch to my door. I yell, “Go away if you're not Jade.”
“It's me. Jenny gave me the message you left for me at work.”
Thank god. I open the door. “What took you so long? I'm dying.” I wince holding my stomach.
“You're not dying. But you do look it.” She presses her hand against my forehead ushering me to the couch with my pillow on it.
“I'm firing Jenny when I feel better.”
“No, you're not. It's not entirely her fault you got food poisoning.” She walks into the kitchen and fills a pot with water to boil. “Not her fault she was thrown by your good looks and got sushi from the wrong place. Didn't you notice the containers weren't the same yesterday?”
“They use the same nondescript clear containers. I blame you too.”
She looks over at me on the couch where I'm dying and her forehead creases. “Me?” She pours something into the pot stirring.
“I would have paid closer attention to what I was putting in my mouth if it wasn't for the superpower between your thighs and your amazingly strong sucking powers.”
She chuckles, pouring the steaming hot liquid in a bowl. “I wasn't the one who sent Jenny for lunch because I wanted a quick slice of heaven—your words.” She raises an eyebrow, placing a bowl on the table beside me.
“What the hell is that?”
“It's a broth that will make you feel better. Let it sit here and cool; then I'll even feed it to you if you want me to.”
“I know I'm years older than you, but I'm well enough to feed myself. That part of my life is hopefully many years away,” I mutter.
Her lips twitch. “Hopefully so, or you won't be of any use to me in my still young age. Raise your head.”
She places the pillow on her lap, and I lay my head to the side. She rakes her fingers through my hair, combing it back off my forehead. I feel better already.
“What took you so long to get here?” I close my eyes savoring her touch.
“I didn't take so long. I was given your message an hour after I came in, and I stopped by the store and came right over.” She kisses the side of my head.
“I feel awful, babe.” Damn, her hand stills shortly.
“I know.” She continues to stroke my hair, ignoring my slip of the tongue.
Must be the soothing touch of her hand, and the way she's holding me in her lap, has me forgetting endearments like that shouldn't be used. It only confuses and makes things harder when it's time for this thing between us to end.
“You'll drink your broth and feel much better. In the meantime, I’ll tell you a story, take your mind off the pain.”
“What’s the story? How one of my interns tried to kill me for lack of attention?”
She laughs, and I smile through a queasy stomach.
“Nowhere near as diabolical.Goodnight Moon.”
“Another children's story? You're not making me feel better. And I'm in no shape to get it up if it's the adult version—Ah, for you maybe I can get it up enough to do a sad, sad, imitation of a hook.”
