I wear the handbag to work in the morning with a pair of white jeans and flats and a sleeveless blouse, and it works. Medusa is protecting me, and even though it’s my birthday, a day I’ve been dreading, I feel powerful.
Chapter Thirteen
Stian
Did you want to maybe sleep together?
I’ve been thinking about taking Lacey to bed ever since she called me sir the first time. After she asked to be one of my bonsai and I kissed her soft, cherry mouth, I’ve been aching to. But it’s delicate. For starters, I didn’t think I’d be taking anyone’s virginity at my age. It’s something I probably wouldn’t have thought twice about in my twenties, but it seems a lot more significant now, being someone’s first. Being Lacey’s first. Being the one to possess her body. Make her come. See her breathless and vulnerable beneath me.
She’s never self-conscious when I undress her, though we’ve never been fully naked with each other yet. Lacey doesn’t seem to be afraid of touching me. She’s gone down on me three times without any prompting from me, and it’s fucking delicious, though she seems sheepish about spitting afterward. As if I give a damn.
After my hour with Lacey the following Wednesday, I pull into my garage and head inside, looking around at the book-lined lounge room, the greenhouse through the French doors that keeps my bonsai alive through the winter. I’m loath to try and change the parameters of our relationship in any way because change seems to be something that upsets Lacey, but I don’t want to sleep with her in my office. I want to do it here, somewhere comfortable where I can treat her properly and she can relax. I picture her in my bed, her long dark hair spread out across the pillow and her body naked and ready for me to devour.
I want to have her under my control, but more importantly, I want to take steps to make her mine permanently, and that means moving things outside my office.
Because Lacey, I believe, is perfect for me.
I keep circling back to the fact that she told her therapist about me, and it brings a smile to my face every time. It must have been hard for her to tell her therapist what we’re doing, and I feel a fierce thrill of satisfaction that she did. Lacey’s determined for this to be something real, too, and I can be good for her. I listen to her. I’m supportive. Out here, in the real world, we could have a real relationship.
We could have everything.
I go to the fridge and pull out a bottle of mineral water and notice the calendar stuck to the wall. Next week is her last week. Already. Fuck, I’m going to miss her so much. In a week and a half, I won’t have her in my office at all.
The next evening I have her on my lap with her dress unbuttoned down the front and the lace cups of her bra pulled down. She’s just finished coming all over my fingers and her hair is wild and tumbling around her face. She stretches her arms luxuriously over her head, arching into me and rubbing her pussy against my hard cock.
I grip her waist, smoothing my thumbs over her ribs, imagining how good it would feel to unzip my trousers right now and just plunge into her.
Patience, Stian. Virgin, remember?
Should it bother me that the woman who fills my head every hour of every day is so much younger than me? I haven’t been able to feel one ounce of guilt over the age difference, but I feel like I should bring it up.
“Does it bother you that I’m older than you?”
Lacey lowers her arms thoughtfully. “You know, I don’t think I ever asked you how old you are.”
“Thirty-nine.”
She considers me for a moment, and then shakes her head. “No, it doesn’t bother me. I prefer it, actually. I don’t do the normal things other women in their twenties do, like go to bars and clubs and things. They’re too loud and intense. You don’t like to do that, either. Or at least, I don’t think you do.”
I hadn’t thought about it that way. I like the pub, but bars with loud music and a crush of people get on my nerves. “You’re safe. I don’t.”
Lacey smiles and wraps her arms around my neck, stroking her fingers through my hair. “You’re steadying. Plus, you’re really sexy. I guess I’m into older guys.”
“Well, lucky me,” I murmur, kissing her smiling mouth.
“What about me, I’m not too young and silly for you, am I?”
“Käraste, you’re about the least silly young woman I’ve ever met.” Insanely cute, though. A sweet, clever little girl, and all mine. I put my head on my side, watching her fluff her long, dark curls. “What are you doing Friday night?”