Sugar Pie by Victoria Pinder

33

Warren

I heard the shower and decided it was time. She needed to know the truth, so I grabbed the dress I’d ordered and knocked on the bathroom door. Then I opened it and hung the dress on the back of the door without letting myself inside. “Wear the red dress.”

She peeked out, and her eyes widened. “Really? I thought you wanted to go to bed.”

The white towel surrounding her curves made me pause, and I grew harder. “I’d like to take you out on a date. A real one, with the real me.”

She tilted her head and asked, “The Wall Street guy?”

Right. She knew I had cash on the side, but not what I actually I had access to. I cupped her face, and my pulse pounded. “I’m both builder and Wall Street.”

She stepped out of the bathroom and motioned toward the bed. “I think we should just enjoy each other here.”

My mind raced. It was time to step out as a couple and for the truth to be out. It would be easier to show her, so I said, “It’s time to show you what being with me is like. It’s not a commitment.”

She licked her lips. “I want you, naked and in this bed, right now.”

My heart fell. She wanted us to stay hidden, and I was confused about what to do. I held her hands in mine. “You’re sure? I want to show you more.”

“I just want you.” She then stripped off her towel, letting me see her naked curves and glorious form.

Then she kissed me, and I held her. I wanted to give her more than that mattress or apartment. But when she held my hand and guided me to the bedroom, I did as requested. I lowered my lips to taste her, and she moaned when my tongue found her core.

My heart pounded. I hoped she would enjoy herself, because I wasn’t sure I was able to find my own rhythm. I loved her and had told her as much, but she hadn’t said anything back. It seemed as if she wanted to avoid talking about feelings.

Her eyes closed, and she moaned. I sat up, hoping she’d enjoyed herself.

As she slowly regained breathing steadily after her orgasm, she asked, “What’s going on, Warren?”

I swallowed and met her gaze. Her flushed cheeks made her seem illuminated from within. “I can’t pretend with you. I love you, and tonight feels like you don’t want that.”

Her eyes misted, and she cupped my face. Her fingers sent tingles through me as she went to her knees. “You’re all I want.” Her lips met mine, and she kissed me. My heart pounded. As the kiss ended, she said, “Please don’t be mad at me.”

I wasn’t. I only wanted her to love me too. She was the only one who didn’t see a trillion dollars behind me and patronize me. She believed in me, and I hoped she would love me for who I was.

I kissed her back, and we fell back onto the bed.

She helped me out of my shirt, and I slid my pants off. I needed her.

Once I was free, I slipped on a condom and entered her. She arched as I set the rhythm.

Soon, I went faster, but I held on until she moaned and found another release.

Then I let go and orgasmed.

As I held her and collapsed, I swear I heard her whisper, “I love you too.”

My heart lurched. I hoped it was true.