Page 62 of Meant For Love
Her fist pumps my cock. “Don’t let me stop you.” I watch her make her way down, kissing my chest, then her tongue comes out to slide down to my stomach, my abs contracting with her touch. My eyes never move from her until she swallows my cock, and my eyes shut. “Fuck, that’s good.” That’s the last thing I think I say until I come down her throat and return the favor. She gets out of the shower before me because her hair did, in fact, get wet, but not while I fucked her. It happened when she took my cock to the back of her throat.
“I’m not going to have time to make you breakfast,” she says as she blow-dries her hair.
"Unless you are okay with me toasting you a bagel?” I smile at her. I might wake her up in bed every single day with a matcha, but she makes me breakfast every single day.
“We can order something,” I tell her, and she turns off the blow-dryer to go and get her phone, handing it to me.
“What is this for?” I ask, leaning against the counter.
“For you to order breakfast,” she informs me, turning the blow-dryer back on, and I pfft out.
“I’m not using your phone.” I get my own phone, ordering us both something and her another matcha instead of making it for her again, as I pick a suit and get dressed. When we step out of the house, her matcha is there waiting for her, so I bend to pick it up.
“This is only because I let you wet my hair.” She grabs it in her hand, stepping out of the house and walking down the steps. The clicking of her nude sky-high heels makes me stop to take her all in. Today she’s wearing a skirt that goes to her mid-calf, except it’s tight as fuck and hugs every single curve, plus shows off her incredible ass. “Stop staring at my ass,” she retorts, still looking ahead, and I have to laugh.
“Stop wearing things that make me stare at your ass, and I’ll stop doing it.” I make my way over to the car, opening the door for her. “It’s like right in my face.” She turns, and I look down at her flowy, floral shirt. “And the shirt is all ‘look at my tits.’”
She laughs, looking down at her shirt. “That’s all in your head. This shirt doesn’t give anything away.”
“Well, I know you’re wearing a lace bra under it,” I tell her, and she shakes her head, pulling the door handle open.
“That’s because you watched me get dressed.” She slips into the car. “Maybe I should move my stuff to the spare closet.”
“Yeah?” I glare at her. “Try it.” I slam the door, but her laughter is heard from outside the car.
I get into the car, and she leans over and kisses my cheek. “Don’t be cranky,” she soothes before reaching for her seat belt. “No one likes a cranky Nash.”
I put on my sunglasses before making my way to the office. Ever since we got married, I start my day at eight o’clock, getting in with everyone else. When we arrive at the office, she gets out, holding her bag in one hand and her matcha in the other. I kiss her as soon as we get to the door and I pull it open for her to walk in. “Good morning, you two,” Lulu greets with a smile.
“Good morning,” Zoey says to her and then walks away from me. “Have a good day.”
I watch her walk toward the shared office space before walking into my own office. I get my computer started when a text comes in, and I smile because I know it’s from her.
Zoey: Have a great day at work.
It’s little things like this that make me smile throughout the day.
Me: Thank you, baby.
I send her the text before I get to work. I’m getting up a couple of hours later, going to find Zoey to see if she’s hungry, when I hear Lulu paging her to the front. A bouquet is on the desk. I put my hands in my pockets, trying to calm the burn in my stomach. “You rang?” Zoey asks when she comes closer to the door, looking at Lulu and then at me. “Did you have me paged so I can come to you?” She puts her hands on her hips.
“I did not,” I reply, my voice tighter than I want it to be.
“He didn’t, but I think in a way he did.” She smiles at her. “These were delivered for you.”
She points at the flowers on the desk in front of her.
Zoey looks at me with a smile, and I make a note to send her flowers more often. “Why did you do this?” she asks, reaching for the card.
“I didn’t,” I say at the same time she opens the card and reads the message on it. Her face turns a touch red as she looks at me and then at Lulu, who is now just looking at us, not sure what to say.
“So who are they from?” My mouth asks the question before my brain can stop it.
“I’m going to go and make coffee.” Lulu gets up to give us a private moment. I watch her walk to the back, and I’m about to say something else when Kailyn walks from the kitchen.
“Hey, you have a Zoom meeting in five,” she says, looking at the flowers and then looking at Zoey. “Isn’t he the sweetest?” She looks at me and then walks to her desk.
“Those are nice flowers,” I note, waiting for her to say something. “They from Jarod?” I do it on purpose, getting his name wrong.