Disoriented, I watch as he pulls his fingers out of me and brings them to his mouth before sucking them clean with a loud moan.
“I missed you,” I finally say.
Surprise sweeps across Monty’s face.
“Good girl,” he murmurs before his soft smile turns into something wicked. “Why don’t you show me how much?”
I drop to my knees and smile up at him. “Okay, now it’s your turn to watch,” I tease, as I help him pull down his pants. “And remember, if you look away, I’ll stop.”
***
I feel like I’m living in some sort of hazy sex dream. I spend my days working in the store and, every night, Monty makes another one of my fantasies come true. We try some light bondage, breath play, light pain, and the toys are definitely taken out a few more times.
Monty loves edging me and I can’t say there’s a thing he does that I don’t like. Though I’m beginning to think it’s less about what we’re doing and more about him. I can’t imagine liking another man fucking my tits and telling me he thinks I’m beautiful with his cum on my face. But with Monty? Well, everything is hot.
It’s not just the sex that’s blowing my mind. Monty brings me dinner almost every night and we talk for hours before and after we have sex. He tells me about his life in New York. He speaks fondly of it, though his tone tells me he doesn’t miss it quite as much as I imagined he did.
“The city smells have nothing on home,” he tells me one night as I lay my head on my pillow, looking over at him intently.
“And what does home smell like?”
Monty balances on one arm, his full body turned to me. “Cinnamon and pumpkin. Sometimes vanilla.”
I try to hide the way those words affect me, to hold back my smile. Monty has already told me that’s what I smell like, that he’s called me Xuxuzinho all these years because of it.
Another night, he tells me about his book. About how the characters have taken him by surprise. And that what he first saw as a singular story, he now thinks will make a wonderful trilogy, though each book will feature a different couple—he’s learned from me that standalones within a series will sell better.
We also talk about our mothers and how we hope that, one day, they might find another great love, or a companion at least. We discuss whether people can have more than one soulmate and I have this strange twinge in my chest when we do because the way he looks at me when he utters his response mirrors my exact sentiment.
“I can’t imagine finding another person in the world like you.”
I’m too scared to ask him what he means. If he could possibly see a future with me beyond our friendship? Beyond whatever it is we’re doing. If maybe, he’s starting to believe in love again?
Truth is, I have enough on my plate without adding the stress of what that conversation would entail. With all the viral posts, the online store is busier than ever, though I’m still saving up for a new computer. I reckon I have at least another month of doing everything by hand.
I’ve received signed book plates from quite a few authors—I was so excited when they responded to me—so I need to make sure they are added to the correct books, too.
With the Books and Brews event coming up, my time is limited, and by seven p.m. on Wednesday night, my back is aching from being bent over all day, packing and unpacking books. My eyes are so dry I can barely keep them open.
So when the bell rings above the door that night, my voice cracks when I yell, “Welcome to Bonfire and Bliss Books!”
“Five thousand words!”
That’s all he needs to say every night and I’m normally wet. But tonight, I’m wrecked as I scramble to my feet, trying to fight my yawn and blink my eyes open.
Monty sees through my every effort. “Rough day?” he asks, holding out his arms to me.
“Just tired. I’ll rally,” I say as I accept his crushing hug.
Monty presses a kiss to my forehead. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”
He turns the shop sign to Closed and flicks off the overhead lights before he takes me by hand and guides me up to my apartment.
We bypass the kitchen and head straight into the bedroom. We don’t even bother to turn on a light, and I start to strip as he pulls down the covers and pats the bed. “Get in.”
I obey, settling in as Monty leans over my body and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Good night, Xuxuzinho.”
“Wait!” I startle, reaching for him. “Where are you going? Aren’t we having sex?”