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“Ah!” He brought me down so hard as he released, that I felt as if he were reaching far into my body, farther than anyone ever had, far into my soul. The depths of my soul.

“Fuck, silver,” he grunted. “Fuck. I love you.”38RoyI love you.

I love you.

Fuck. I love you.

The climax swept through me like a herd of raging bulls. They trampled over the vast grass, their hooves bringing up clouds of dusty earth. All inside me, they raged, as I took from this woman’s body what I needed. What I craved.

I love you.

Fuck. I love you.

Then a voice. A sweet melodic voice. The voice of my angel.

“You… You love me?”

Reality hit me in the head like a boulder tumbling from a mountain.

You love me?

God, yes. I loved her. But had I said it? Out loud?

Fuck! It was too soon. She’d go running. She’d go running far away from me.

My cock slid out of her and I placed her gently on my bed. What to say? What could I say?

It was the truth. I loved her.

She looked up at me, her eyes innocent and questioning.

And I melted.

“Yeah, silver. Yeah. I love you. I really love you.”

I hoped for a smile.

I didn’t get one.

She bit on her lower lip as it trembled. Finally, she spoke. “I didn’t come.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“No. That’s not what I mean. I mean… Oh, shit. I don’t know what I mean.”

“You don’t have to say it back.” Except that you do. Please say it back.

“I…”

I sat down next to her. “You don’t have—”

She reached forward and pressed two fingers against my lips. “I know. I actually…want to say it back. But it’s only been…”

I kissed her lips softly. “I know.”

“Are you sure?” she asked timidly.

“Silver, I’ve never been more sure of anything. I can promise you that.”

No truer words. I was unsure of pretty much everything in my brain…except for the fact that I loved this beautiful woman.

“I…”

“Silver.”

“I want to say it back. I wasn’t lying.”

“I know. If you want to say it back, that means you’re feeling it, right?”

She nodded shyly.

“Then I can wait. You say it when you’re ready.”

Funny thing was, I wasn’t ready myself. It had come out on its own. I’d only been thinking the words, or so I’d thought.

She looked down at her blouse. “What am I going to wear to work?”

“We’ll go shopping.”

“At seven-thirty in the morning?”

“Right. Well…you can wear one of my shirts.”

“Your shirts will hang on me.”

Yeah, she was right. “Your skirt is okay. A little wrinkled, but okay. You just need…” I stood and walked over to my closet. I didn’t have a vast wardrobe like Reid did. My clothing consisted mostly of jeans, shirts, T-shirts, and paint smocks. A few pairs of shorts. And of course those ten damned suits that I hated wearing.

I looked through my shirts, and—

“Here.” I held up a red women’s shirt. “This will work.”

“The reds aren’t quite— Wait a minute. Whose is that?”

Whose indeed? I clawed at my memory. I’d had little contact with women. Only a few—

“Just someone I hooked up with once. She left it here. It was a year ago, at least.”

She didn’t look convinced.

“Silver, there’s been no one since you.”

“It’s only been a week.”

“Which means I couldn’t possibly be lying to you. You’ve been with me nearly nonstop.” I tossed her the shirt. “This is it. Either that or you call in.”

She threw the shirt back at me. “I’ll go home and change.”

“You might be late for work.”

She bit her lip again. God, she looked adorable. Would Charlie chance being late for a brand new job?

She stood impudently and picked up the shirt. “It’ll do.” She grabbed her skirt and marched into the bathroom.

And I tried not to chuckle out loud.

She’d be going to work commando today.

And I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about that.

She came out of the bathroom, her hair freshly brushed, the skirt looking nearly wrinkle free. The stretchy V-neck shirt was tight on her, which made her breasts look amazing, and she was right. The reds didn’t quite match, but only she and I would notice that. We had painters’ eyes. They were close enough.

“Close enough,” she agreed, when I mentioned it. Then, instead of hurrying out as I expected her to, she sat back down on the bed.

“Don’t you need—”

“In fifteen minutes. I can make it if I leave in fifteen minutes.”

Worked for me. I began lowering my pajama pants.

She held up her hand. “No, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t come here to…have sex. I really didn’t.”

“We just had sex, silver.”

“Yeah. I was there. But I came to talk to you.”

“Oh?” I sat down next to her. “What about?”

“About the key.”

My skin chilled, so much that I rubbed my upper arms to ease the cold.

The key.

The key I needed to bury for my sanity.


Tags: Helen Hardt Wolfes of Manhattan Erotic