Page 18 of Midnight Roots

I pause though at the sound of Tessa's whimpers through the wall. They sound so much like Dillon's when we were together earlier in the night. That magical moment where we were one. I can't believe it happened, and I feel like the luckiest guy alive. Dillon is a goddess that needs to be worshipped.

I put the clean boxers down, and I press a hand against the wall. I can hear her whimpers clearly, and I reach down and rub my hard-on through my boxers. Dillon. That's who I hear. I imagine it's Dillon whimpering my name as I push my boxers down and start to stroke my cock.

The whimpers grow louder as I groan, and I remember what it felt like to be buried deep inside her wet, waiting pussy. The sexy, lacey panties that she had on. I hadn't seen her breasts, but the cleavage had tasted delicious. The soft, succulent flesh that could so easily bruise because of my nips and sucks.

Tessa calls my name, and I bang the wall. "No talking," I yell the words, but I continue to stroke my cock. I shake my head, picturing Dillon again as Tessa returns to whimpers. I picture Dillon in only lacey underwear, and I feel my balls constrict. FuckI'm so close. "Dillon," I murmur as my load shoots out to the floor.

I strip off my dirty boxers and wipe up the cum before I deposit them in the load of washing that's going. I finally go shower and get clean before I put fresh sheets on and fall asleep, determined to sleep like a lamb.

That doesn't happen. I toss and turn most of the night. Between Tessa's goddam whimpers and my own demons, I can feel this isn't going to be a good night. I get up and go to the porch, standing there in just my boxers and letting the air cool me down. I hear a bark in the distance, and I ready myself. There isn't another, so I let my guard back down. The dogs would go berserk if there were a predator nearby.

Shrieks come from inside the house, and I realize Tessa is awake again. The shrieks I will not abide by. I shut the door behind me and takethe stairs two at a time. I reach the guest bedroom and slam the door open.

"Please, Heston," she cries. "Please, I'm in so much pain. Please make it stop."

I pick up the riding crop I left by the door, and I go behind her. "What have I told you about making a noise?" I whip her across her back. A red welt appears over her somewhat healed bruises. She cries out, and I whip her again. And again.

I whip her until she passes out from the pain, and I feel like I can finally think. I drop the riding crop by the door and shut it behind me. I go back to bed and lie down. Sleep still eludes me, and I think about Dillon instead. I wish I'd tasted her. It was all so passionate and rushed. I never got a chance to taste her little honey pot.

I intend to rectify that, but not in the morning. Not if I'm not getting any sleep.

I'm no man's man when I'm sleep-deprived.

I almost feel sorry for Tessa.

Almost.

Chapter Fifteen

Dillon

I feel like I'm floating when I wake up at five for work. I showered when I got home, but I have another one, so I'm fresh and perky for the day. I didn't get much sleep last night, as I kept thinking about the amazing night that I had. I can still feel Heston inside of me. Every single inch of him. The way he teased my clit. The way he moved his hips. Every one of my senses was engaged. He smelt good, too. His aftershave is sexy.

Once I'm clean, I dress for work and grab my clutch, walking out of the apartment, putting my key around my neck and tucking it into my t-shirt. I am practically whistling as I walk to work. I'm going to see Heston today, and not even Blondie and Brunette can put me in a foul mood.

I wave at people as I pass—a lot of the early morning shop owners getting ready to start their day. I feel so happy I can't contain myself. The elderly man from the shoe store returns my wave and gives me a smile. I pass by one or two regulars walking to work and walking their dog. We greet, and I start to whistle again.

I reach the diner as Cece opens up, and I bounce in. "Good morning," I sing-song.

"Someone's in a good mood," she comments.

I smile brightly and get ready to put serviette holders and sugar shakers on each table. I go to fill up the condiment bottles, which is a lot trickier than Cece makes it look. I'm slowly getting the hang of it. I pack the washed silverware into its holders, and I go to wipe down the tables in the cafe area and then the grill area. I wash the counters down with a giant smile on my face.

I realize I'm whistling at work, and Cece is looking at me.

"Someone had areallygood night. What happened?" she asks casually.

"Heston took me out on a date..." I blush and lean over. "And we stopped at a lover’s lane to take in the view."

Cece looks at me surprised and smiles. "Oh, that's nice. I'm happy for you. Looks like I'll have to find someone new again one of these days."

She wanders off to the grill side, and I look after her, wondering about her comment.

I don't have time to ponder on the comment for long. The morning regulars have started coming in. We've been having more interest in the mornings lately, and I'm hoping it's because of my sunny disposition. There is nothing like doing so well at your job youattract more clients. That's a definite reason to keep me on.

I get to work straight away making lattes and cappuccinos, practicing my design work with frothy milk, and distributing pasties and slices of pie as they're ordered. Before I know it, it's Midday, and I'm getting ready for the lunch rush. That's when it dawns on me that Heston should have been in by now, but he hasn't been. I didn't get a phone number from him, and I don't know where he is staying. I'm too embarrassed to ask Cece if she has his number. I mean, who sleeps with a guy and doesn't take his number?

Wild thoughts run through my head as my lunchtime rush starts, and I'm run off my feet. I try not to be distracted, but two cracked glasses later, Cece is running behind me, going over what I need to do again, and I'm embarrassed.