Sugar Pie by Victoria Pinder

42

Warren

Kerry stretched on the bed, and I knew I needed to have her again tonight.

She was delicious, better than the French lunch she’d cooked.

Unlike food, Kerry lit my soul in a way food never could.

I kissed her shoulder. “Let’s order room service, and then I want more of you.”

She giggled but reached for the phone in the room. “I’ll want the crème brûlée.”

I winked, as I wanted to clean myself up for her. I stood and said, “Go for it. Get us a bottle of wine as well.”

“It will be here in a minute.”

I took a quick shower. I wanted to impress her. She did that to me. She was always fun to be with, both in and out of bed. The love in my heart made our time together even better. “Doesn’t matter how long it takes,” I called. “I’m with you.”

I rinsed off and turned off the shower. As I dried myself, she came in and clearly didn’t care that she was naked. She stepped in to shower. “Always a sweetheart with me. And you’re a generous partner in business.”

I almost joined her, but there was a knock at the door. I grabbed one of the robes, dropped the towel, and headed out. A second later, I opened the door and let the waiter in with our dinner. “Speaking of that, I want us to be fifty-fifty from now on,” I called to Kerry.

I tipped the waiter, and he left.

“It’s mostly your money.”

“I didn’t do it without you.”

Minutes later, she came out with her hair wet and wearing a white robe. She checked the food on the small table and said, “You were clearly successful on Wall Street. Tell me about your life in New York.”

I wanted to lead her back to bed and take that robe off. “I was lonely, I guess, but didn’t realize it.”

We ate, and she sighed as if she was happy. Then she asked, “You do now?”

I finished my lamb chop and stood, offering my hand. “I’m with you. Now, let me show you this time.”

She squeezed my palm. “Dessert can wait.”

I led her back to bed. She enjoyed making love, and I was happy to show her again how much I cared for her.