Yet, I want him to be more than the guy who plays games in his dad’s living room. I want him to be really passionate about something, and to succeed at it. But am I being too judgmental? After all, Jackie is right. Twenty-two is young, and hell, if I expected a billionaire at twenty-two, then I should try to find myself a prince from some far-flung country. Maybe I have been too harsh. Shit. I should probably go back to apologize.
I finish my drink and a passing bartender quirks an eyebrow at me to ask if I want another. But I merely shake my head, and put out a few bills on the table. It’s time to make-up with Stewie. More than once, we’ve had frenzied sex after re-declaring our love for one another, but this time, I’ll settle for a gentle kiss if that’s all he wants. After all, my boyfriend isn’t exactly great in bed. He’s okay, but not anything that’ll make your panties melt.
Still, I’ll apologize for the rude things I said and the screaming. I’ll tell him that I’m going to be more supportive of his career, and he’ll apologize to me for being such a jerk, too. It’ll be fine. With that, I pick up my purse, wave goodbye to Jackie, and step out of the Hard Swallow. Now is the time for penance, and the least I can do is to put us on the path towards peace.
4
Serenity
* * *
I make my way back to Stewie’s house. Hmm, it’s dark and I almost get lost, but then I see a huge shadow, and sure enough, it’s the Holts’ mansion. Great. Plus, my car is still parked where I left it in the driveway. It definitely didn’t drive away on its own.
Fumbling for the key, I let myself into the huge house. Stewie gave me the key a few months back, so I have no qualms about letting myself in. The downstairs is dark but maybe everyone’s already in bed. Then, I lock the door behind me and drop my purse on the floor without bothering to turn on the light in the foyer. Giggling, I kick the bag to the side. My shoes join it in a heap by the door because I’m too tired to line them up nicely.
Hmm, where’s Stewie? Probably in bed, come to think of it. Funny, I’m feeling a little bit horny now. It must be the walk that did it to me. There’s something about strolling home in the darkness that elicits a romantic feel. Or maybe, it’s just the alcohol doing something to my system.
Maybe I won’t tell Stewie I’m sorry, I can just show him. Oooh yeah. Make-up sex can be fun, even if your boyfriend isn’t exactly a stallion in bed. At least Stewie has a decent sized tool, even if he’s not humongous.
I wonder if Julian’s cock is as big as his son’s?
OMG, how can I think that? Julian is Stewie’s dad, and that was so wrong of me. I should not be thinking about Julian when I’m about to initiate hot make-up sex with his son. What girl acts like that?
Then, I put my hand on the bannister and begin to creep up the stairs in the dark. For some reason, giggles come over me and I slap my hand over my mouth to keep them from bubbling out. No need to wake the dead as I embark on my seduction. When I get to the top of the landing, a long hallway greets me. Ah yes. The Holts live in a mansion, so there are at least five or six bedrooms, plus an office that Julian uses. But Stewie’s room is easy to find. He’s way at the back, last door on the left. Slowly, I creep forward, one hand along the wall to make sure I don’t bump into anything.
Of course, when I get to Stewie’s room, it’s dark and the door’s shut tightly, but that’s okay. I’ll just slip under the covers beside him, and then the shenanigans will begin.
Slowly, my hand turns the knob and I slip inside. There’s just a bit of moonlight coming through the sliver in the blinds, and I can see a man’s enormous form lying on the bed. Giggling again, I strip off my clothes, my curves hot and ready, and climb onto the mattress next to him.
“Hi,” I whisper. “Ready for some fun, big boy?” I ask, skimming one hand down that sculpted back. Wow. I don’t remember Stewie being this muscular, but the thickness feels good under my palm. I run my hand back up, marveling at the definition and feel of solid flesh. Then, I press a kiss to his shoulder. “Wake up,” I purr throatily. “I’m ready.”
And with that, the best night of my life begins.