“You have no idea what opening that box will bring to your life. No clue.”
“Maybe I want to see, just to know,” she countered.
I can punch this bag all day but how in the world can I fight that? I can’t.
“What I’m asking, is that are you saying you’re the man for the job?”
She challenges me like no other. My will. My desire. Every part of me.
But I’m the one who’s supposed to be challenging her, using my experience and wisdom to push her to levels she might not even know are possible to obtain. There’s no one I’ve ever wanted like this, no one who could ever take her place. This is more than just about sex. This is about everything. This is about keeping her by my side, always. Keeping her safe, forever. And there’s not a fucking man alive who’s more cut out for exactly that than I am. I was born to do that for her, I just never knew it until she came along. She. Is. Mine.
I can’t keep going back to that damn coffee shop and continue tormenting us both. I’ve warned her for the last time. I’ve given her a chance to tell me to leave her alone, to stop bothering her. But we both know she won’t do that because neither of us wants that.
And even if she did it couldn’t stop me. Not for one second longer.
I make my way upstairs, and then flicking on the light switch to the master bathroom.
Tossing my sweaty trunks to the side I step into the shower, the handle completely over on the cold side, but my body is still on fire.
A big part of me wants my hand to just drift down and take hold of myself, just get the release I crave so badly.
But the wiser part of me knows that a Phallic victory is no victory at all. I need to save this special gift for her and only her. I’m not about to waste it on the imported Spanish tiles that line my shower walls.
I’m going to put my juices in her, on her, rub it into her flesh so she smells like me. So the whole world knows she’s been bred, catching a whiff from down the block before they even enter the coffee shop.
I want my aroma overpowering the smell of fresh ground coffee so when those little punks enter they’ll know she’s been claimed by a real man. Know she’s off limits. No flirting, no smiles, no holding eye contact. Hell, as far as I’m concerned they should call in their orders and pick them up from the sidewalk after paying online with their credit cards.
I don’t want anyone close enough to her to even think for one second they have a chance of taking from me what’s mine.
My balls pull up tight and I bring my hand to my shoulder, squeezing it hard trying to create pain or numbness to take my mind away from her.
It’s not working. Not one bit.
I don’t care if she deserves better than me, it’s me she’s going to get. No other little fucker is ever going to lay a hand on her. No one will take her from me.
Quickly I reach for my towel and flip off the water, the possessiveness running through me almost driving me to explode right here and now. Not happening.
I’m saving it for my little Jewel, to make her feel so damn good, to warm her insides. I’m not spilling one drop until my cock is buried deep inside her pussy, and then I’m not spilling a drop either. I’m absolutely erupting, painting her womb like a Jackson Pollock masterpiece.
Then I’m going to watch each and every day as that beautiful belly of hers grows bigger, swollen with my child as she becomes my wife, my lover, my everything.
She may not have the ring on her finger yet or know it, but she already is. Everything.
And if there was ever a doubt, it’s time to put an end to that tomorrow…if I make it through the night without combusting.
7
Jewel
“Four double shots of espresso,” Cruella calls out and I move toward the counter, feigning a smile. Normally I would be smiling naturally, but today things are off. Jake hasn’t come into the shop, and I realize now that the anticipation of his visit would help me not to notice the backache and the sore feet that I notice daily, but not at this level.
Life just isn’t nearly as good without him, and I wonder if he’s ever going to show his face in here again. After yesterday I’m not so sure.
Why did I try and force his hand? Why couldn’t I have taken two steps forward and one step back instead of trying to sprint to the finish line as fast as possible? If I would have just played it cool I might have had a chance with him. Now, because I acted like a kid who doesn’t know what she’s doing, I’m serving coffee to four meatheads who think they have a chance with me.
“You guys sure you’re going to be okay?” I ask, setting down their second round of double espressos.
“We’re more than okay,” one of them winks. “You know how much more we can lift with four shots of espresso pumping our heart rate like a rabbit on speed.”