Page 111 of The Flirty Vet

Pressed against the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Airlie Beach.

I tried showering again.

He joined me, and we…gasp…actually washed each other's bodies.

We put on white fluffy robes that don't fit us at all.

Wilby tried to squish his size eleven foot into a white hotel slipper. Could only get half in. He joked it reminded him of the first time we had sex.

I slapped him—Polly would've been proud—which led to more sex.

His entire cock fit into my ass. I made a point of stopping to mention that. Wilby grabbed his phone, and we took some dirty pics.

We came again.

I got hungry again.

We ordered room service again.

We're now lying on the bed.

In bathrobes that only cover our backs. Chests, legs, dicks splayed out.

Wilby's got a slipper on his left foot, dangling off his toes.

I'm finally full.

We're both finally spent.

I cannot come any more even if I wanted to.

And as I steal a glimpse at Wilby as he flicks through the channel trying to find something to watch, I think I'm in real trouble here with this guy.

The muscle in his jaw ticks. "Beautiful people have a hidden talent most people don't know about." He stops channel surfing and turns to me with a grin. "We can sense when someone's looking at us."

I lift my chin. "Yeah… I know."

He bursts out into a laugh. "Well played."

I look at him, watching as his laugh leaves his face. It's something that happens slowly, and I suddenly realize why. It's because Wilby's natural expression is basically set onget ready to laughmode. His eyes are mischievous, his lips are quick to stretch, and he's just naturally programmed to be happy. To want to be happy.

"What are you thinking?" he asks. "Please don't tell me you're hungry again."

I smile, shaking my head. "No. I'm all good on that front. And the other front," I add before he can.

He threads his fingers through mine. "Since we're filled up and fucked out, I suppose there's nothing left for us to do but talk."

"I suppose you're right. Think we've put it off for as long as we can."

He throws the remote control onto the bed. "I'll go first. I owe you an apology. Well, probably several apologies, so I might just bundle them all into one big one."

"Fair enough."

"I'm sorry for reacting so…heatedlywhen you came to the house. You were just doing your job, and I flew off the handle because…" He drops his head.

"Because you're stressed and worried and want to protect your family and everything that you and they have. It's okay, Wilby. I get it."

He nods but doesn't look at me. His chest is rising and falling with every breath he's taking. I really do feel badly for him. It's a lot to deal with, I get it. I've experienced many farmers lose their shit in many different ways. Comparatively, Wilby's reaction was on the less extreme side. He was justifiably upset without taking it out on me in an unreasonable way. He could have forced me into a light plane, but he didn't. Instead, he chose the option he knew I needed, even if it meant taking six hours out of his day.