Only One Love (Only One 7)

"Well, I have lots of male relatives," I tell him. "So it could have been a whole slew of people."

"But you didn’t even text me back?" he says, folding his arms over his chest. I see that the ends of his hair are wet, and I wonder if he came here right after practice.

"I figured if the guy was really a dick and wanted me to accept his apology, he would have texted me back." I shrug. "Or it was a wrong number."

He takes a step toward me and stops right in front of me, and I have a hard time swallowing. "I like the way you smell." His hand comes up, and he grabs a piece of my hair and twirls it around his finger. “Like heaven.”

I swallow, or at least I try to, but my whole body is on alert when he stands close to me. It’s as if it knows what he can do to me. My head is trying to forget, but my body, my body is screaming out for him. “Good to know.” That’s all I can come up with, and even when I say the words, I’m surprised I’m not panting.

"Have dinner with me." His voice comes out low, and his eyes go from my lips to my eyes. "So I can make it up to you for being a dick."

My mouth goes as dry as the desert in the middle of the day. "I normally work late," I say honestly, and his hand drops from my hair.

"You have to eat dinner," he reminds me. I have to take a step away from him so my brain can get with the program.

"I usually eat at my desk while I edit," I inform him. "The show launches next week, and I really, really have to make sure that it’s the best."

He nods his head. "That’s fine," he says, and I have the need to go to him and wrap my arms around his waist. Which is weird because the only thing I ever wrapped around his waist was my legs when he carried me naked to the bed where he fucked me like a rag doll. My pussy clenches as I remember it for just a second.

"Condom," I panted out when he laid me on the bed and reached down to finger me. "Now.”

He turned to walk out of the room, and I watched his ass as he walked away. My hand went to my clit, and I played with myself as I watched him grab a condom out of his pocket. He walked back with the swagger that you just knew he had a big dick, and after sucking it and stroking it, I could confirm he could use the swagger. He crawled onto the bed, and my eyes were mesmerized as I watched him roll the condom on his cock. My hand goes from my clit into my pussy as it pulsed, knowing that in a couple of seconds, he’d be fucking me, and I could tell he was going to fuck me better than I ever imagined. "Spread." He stroked his cock, and I was jealous. He stopped stroking slapped my clit with it. "Your pussy," he mumbled and leaned down to suck my clit into his mouth. "Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen."

"Well, this pretty pussy needs a good fucking," I said, and his eyes turned so dark they looked like a sapphire.

"I’m going to." He didn’t even wait to say more. Instead, he just slammed into me, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

"Um, hello?" I hear his voice, and I look over at him. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I’m fine." I can feel my cheeks turning pink

"Well, whatever you were thinking about made you smile," he says, and my eyes fly to his, wondering if he knows what I was thinking about. I also wonder if he thinks about that night. Does he remember the whole night or just bits and pieces? "So, dinner?"

I smile sadly. "I’m sorry, I just don’t have the time." My heart thumps in my chest so hard it echoes in my ear.

He nods. "Well, then, I’ll let you get back to your work." He walks out, stopping to look back. "Take care, Franny," he says, using the name I told him that only my close friends and family use.

I watch him walk toward the elevators, and only when he turns the corner and I can’t see him anymore do I sit in the chair closest to me. "What the fuck was that?" I ask myself. Looking back, I suddenly hope that he won’t take no for an answer. But it doesn’t happen. The only thing that happens is I spend too long in that chair, and when I get back to my desk, the only thing I can think of is him. "Motherfucker," I mumble. "He called you a princess," I argue with myself. "And he’s an asshole with a huge chip on his shoulder." I look at the computer screen, my head spinning. "Who cares? All you want is to fuck him again anyway," my head screams back. "The least he could do is give you a couple of orgasms, and then you can move on."