It’s all crazy. It’s downright madness. The thought that I’m sleepwalking through a dream world returns to me more than once, and each time I have to forcefully tug myself back to the present, assuring myself this is real, this is happening.
“Kaitlyn,” I say, cheeks flaming red. I turn my face away and pretend to adjust Gizmo’s collar. “Do you have any tips? You know … sex tips?”
Kaitlyn laughs, but then immediately ends the laughter when she sees that I’m serious. “For real?”
I nod. “For real.”
“Um, well, I don’t know,” she says. “I guess the most important thing is to just be in the moment. Don’t overthink it.”
We share a look and both burst into crazy laughter because we both know that overthinking is my specialty.
“Okay, fair enough,” she says, grinning, her cheeks glistening with her drying tears. “But seriously, Tess, you’ve got to stop thinking about it like you’re trying to impress him. Or the other way around. It’s just—it’s just sex. It’s something for both of you. It’s fun … I mean, it can be fun.”
A dark look flitters across her eyes.
Dirk.
Anger stabs into me and I wish I could snatch the question back. What the heck am I thinking, asking Kaitlyn for sex tips, now of all times?
“Thank you,” I say.
“No problem,” Kaitlyn says, smiling away her pain. “You hear that Gizzie, your mommy’s going to be one hell of a fuck-machine pretty soon.”
That prompts another round of laughter, and for a while, we forget about Dirk.
But I don’t forget about Tanner. I can’t.
When will I see you next? I asked him when he left me and Kaitlyn alone here.
Soon, he whispered, his mouth close to my ear, his breath causing shivers to dance over my nerve-buzzing body.Chapter TwelveTannerI move silently through the night, approaching the building like a hunter.
I stalk through the lobby and toward the elevator, nodding to the security guard at the main desk.
Hunger flames inside of me and my manhood thickens and twinges in unhinged need, everything whirling and crashing down.
Tess, Tess, Tess, her name singing out in my mind, her body coming to me in lustful flashes.
After leaving her and her friend, I went back to my place and looked over some of my students’ writing, and then ended up perusing Tess’s story again. I spent a long time at my desk, sipping a whiskey, allowing my gaze to drink in her words.
She’s so fucking talented.
But this evening it’s not her writing talent I’m interested in.
A primal howl sounds in me as I ride the elevator up to the penthouse suite, using my set of keys to unlock the door and walk silently into the darkened hallway.
It’s two o’clock in the morning and the apartment is silent.
I move through the hall and toward Tess’s room, the one I carried her suitcase to before leaving them. My whole body is tense and my heart thuds in my chest, my pectorals straining from my workout earlier. I thought I could exercise this irrepressible need away, but I was wrong, I was dead fucking wrong.
I open the door slowly, the large bedroom painted in the light of the moon shafting through the window.
Gizmo is curled up on the edge of the bed, snoring softly, and Tess is swaddled in the blanket in the middle, sleeping on her side. Even through the fabric, I can make out the outline of her body, her ass, and her thighs and breasts, every part of her calling to me.
I need her.
I salivate like a beast as I move quietly, disturbing neither the dog nor my queen.
I lean down and scoop Gizmo into my arms, picking up a blanket and carrying him softly into the ensuite. I swaddle him into a makeshift bed and tickle him behind the ear, letting him know it’s okay, he can sleep here. He looks at me briefly, yawns, and then lays his head down and starts snoring again.
I close the door behind me and then move to the bed, my manhood so stiff in my pants now it’s like any second it could break free.
I lean down and smooth her hair from her eyes.
“T-Tanner?” she whispers, blinking awake.
“I need to taste you,” I growl. “And I know you’re nervous. So just let me taste. Nothing else tonight. Just one goddamned taste. Your pussy—Jesus Christ, Tess, I can’t stop thinking about it. How juicy it must be. I want you to cream all over my mouth. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” she says, a shiver moving through her as she sits up slightly.
The blanket falls away and the base of my manhood flares. She’s wearing a tank top without a bra, her breasts bouncing invitingly. Then it shifts and slides down, showing me the round fleshy globe of her left breast, a gorgeous vein running down toward her nipple.