Billionaire Beast

She stops moving and the smile slowly fades from her expression.

“What?” she asks.

“The sky,” I tell her. “I don’t see any stars.”

“Oh,” she shrugs. “The city’s too bright.”

“Yeah,” I mumble.

This isn’t a bad thing. Wrigley and I do seem to get each other on a deeper level, even if that particular level is generally strange and somewhat terrifying.

She’s not a bad person. She’s into some weird shit, but that’s not a crime. Well, what we’re doing right now technically is, but you know what I mean.

Her muscles tighten around my cock, and she slides herself up and down my shaft slowly.

“I’ve been practicing,” she says.

“What?” I ask, still looking for even a single glimmering point of light in the sky.

“Kegels,” she says. “It helps me grip. See?”

She flexes herself around me again.

“You like?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I smile. “I like.”

“It’s getting cold,” she says. “Wanna go inside? We can always pick this up on the bed or…” she kisses me. “The couch or…” she kisses me again. “The floor or…” she presses her whole body into mine and breathes in deeply as she kisses me once again. “Wherever.”

“Yeah,” I answer. “Okay.”

She grips me again as she slips herself off of me, and a moment later, I’m just lying there on the ledge atop this building, still trying in vain to spot a single star in the sky.

* * *

It’s 7 in the morning, and I haven’t slept yet.

Wrigley’s feathered breath is warm on my bare chest as she sleeps peacefully in my arms.

What I’m worried about right now is that I’ve never known this woman outside of a strictly sexual context.

Yeah, we’ve gone places and we’ve talked, but we’re always on our way to a new place to have sex. We’re always talking about what we’re going to do with each other when we get there.

I know there’s more to her than that, but I just don’t know if I’m ever going to see it.

I’ve spent so much of my life treating women like the flavor of the hour that I’ve completely forgotten what it’s like to be that guy, to ask those questions and really get t

o know someone.

“Are you awake?” the whisper comes as a slow rush of air, barely audible.

“Yeah,” I whisper back.

I can feel the muscles in her face pulling back, and when she lifts her head to turn and look at me, she’s smiling.

“Good morning,” she says.

I can’t help but smile back.