“Not while we’re driving, baby. One accident’s enough for one day,” I remind her, happy though when she keeps her hand resting on my meat all the way back down to town.
Just as I promised, with her dad in the hospital for at least another couple of days, we have some privacy and I run her a hot bath.
While she’s soaking in the tub, I shower and borrow a robe while my clothes are in the dryer.
The selection of takeout in Woods End is pretty limited, but Krystal says the local diner will deliver pretty much anything we can dream up.
I phone in an order for a couple of big steaks, a whole cherry pie, and a tub of ice cream if they have it.
“Sounds perfect,” Krystal calls out, cooing my name as she tries to lure me back up to the bathroom.
I know if I see her naked one more time, that’ll be the rest of the day gone and we’ll both starve to death.
The door chimes and I wonder if that much food could be delivered so quickly.
Apparently not.
It’s my old friends, the media. Luckily no cameras are rolling when I open the door, but I explain how much the family and I would appreciate some privacy.
“I’ll have a statement for you guys later in the day. For now, we’re just getting warm and dry clothes and sending our thoughts and prayers to Mayor Newland,” I tell them.
“But what about the cougar attack? Do you consider yourself a hero? The rest of the town does,” somebody pipes up from the back.
“And what about the election tomorrow, Mr. Silverthorn, will that still go ahead?”
I close the door, leaving just enough gap to thank them all and ask them to bother us later with any questions.
Looking through the curtains, I can tell they’re not going anywhere, which kind of takes the edge off the quiet time I had planned for Krystal and me today.
The next interruption is the phone ringing, and I pick it up. It’s the hospital. I take the phone up to Krystal covering my eyes and holding it out to her before taking just a quick peek and leaving again.
Just as I thought, the sight of her chest jutting out proudly through the bath foam sends my dick hard north in seconds.
I hover at the bottom of the stairs not really wanting to eavesdrop but needing to eavesdrop so I know what’s going on.
“Dad’s doing fine,” Krystal calls down, sensing my mood. I hear her getting out of the tub and resist the urge to go dry her off myself.
If we didn’t have a damned film crew waiting outside, I’d gladly spend the rest of the day making her scream my name but I don’t think it would be wise right now.
Dammit.
“Better?” I ask her, feeling my heart and my groin swell as I see her at the top of the stairs.
She nods enthusiastically, looking relaxed and refreshed as she drifts down into my arms.
“Who was at the door?” she asks, my lips smacking the fresh toothpaste feel from hers as we kiss.
“Reporters,” I groan and roll my eyes. She tenses up for a second and I lead her over to the couch, sitting us both down.
“Krystal, I know what you said about not caring who knew about us,” I start to say, but she’s already nodding.
“I know, I know. We might need to keep things quiet, at least until after dad’s election, right? No point causing a scandal,” she adds dramatically, daring me not to touch her with her eyes as she covers her chest up extra tight with her own robe.
“Exactly,” I agree. “What’d the hospital say?” I ask her next, feeling a pang of anxiety when she refers to it as ‘dad’s election.’
I’ve got what I came for from Woods End, and I hope Krystal really understands that.
“You know I only want you, Krystal,” I tell her, taking her hand in mine.
“I’m not really trying to put your Dad out of a job, I don’t even want to be Mayor. Truly I don’t,” I tell her, the truth now because after what we’ve both been through, she really is all I want.
“I know,” she whispers, kissing me on the cheek and making us both laugh when her stomach growls.
“Where’s that food, I’m starving,” she says loudly, rolling onto her slide and clutching her belly.
Our food arrives not long after and true to my promise, we both eat so much it’s almost nauseating to think about anything else to do with food.
“Tell me it can be like this every day,” Krystal prompts me as we lay on the couch, her legs over mine.
“It can be like this every day,” I parrot in a robotic voice, making her slap at my chest softly.
“Except…” I add with a frown, “I don’t think your Dad would be too happy about me living on his couch.