My hips move in time with the jerk of my hand on my c**k as I think about her lying in bed with her eyes closed, legs spread wide while her fingers slip through her pu**y.
“I’m going to f**k your pu**y with my fingers while I take your ass. I’m going to feel you come against my hand as I push into you, baby.”
The sound of her panting and gasping for breath as she fingers herself is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard and I couldn’t stop my orgasm now if I tried. Every single thought in my head is filled with Finnley and the things I want to do to her.
“Fuck! I’m gonna come, Lee. I need you to come with me,” I groan, my hands gripping my c**k so tight I’m afraid I might rip it right off my body.
I can hear the wet sounds of her fingers thrusting into her pu**y and when she shouts a moment later, my orgasm explodes out of me.
“I’m coming! Oh f**k, Collin, I’m coming!”
My dick pulses and twitches in my hand and come shoots out in thick streams against my stomach as I moan Finnley’s name through my release.
A few minutes later, with the phone still tightly clutched against my ear in one hand, my other hand slides out of my boxers, reaching over to the nightstand to grab a tissue and clean myself up.
“I think I just died,” Finnley mumbles a few seconds later.
I laugh into the line. “Well, rest up. When I see you tomorrow, you’re going to need your strength.”
I end the call after rattling off my address and fall asleep thinking about the surprise I have in store for her when I see her again.
I want to make all of her fantasies come true.
First, I need to remind her of her dreams.
“STOP BEING DIFFICULT and just keep your eyes closed,” Collin laughs in my ear as he holds his hands over my eyes, walking behind me as he guides me through his house.
I wanted a tour of his four-bedroom ranch, but he covered my eyes as soon as he opened the door to me, telling me only that he had a surprise.
After what happened on the phone last night, I fully expected to be overcome with mortification the minute I laid eyes on Collin. I’m willing to admit that I’ve thought about anal sex many times over the years. Jordan even broached the topic once, trying to convince me to spice up our sex life. The thing is, there’s an incredible amount of trust involved in the act, and I never trusted my husband enough to guide us through it. If how fast I came and how loudly I moaned last night at the very mention of him taking my ass are any indication, I have no such misgivings about Collin. As a matter of fact, it’s all I’ve been able to think about since the moment he smiled down at me at the front door.
I hear the swoosh of a sliding glass door and I feel the grass beneath my feet as he leads me into what must be his back yard.
He comes to a stop, turning me around as he removes his hands from my eyes. When I start to open them, he quickly scolds me.
“Nope, keep them closed.”
I huff and cross my arms in front of me. “I hate surprises.”
“Yes, you’ve mentioned that three times already. Stop being a brat,” he chuckles.
I hear him rustling around with something and the slide of what sounds like plastic against concrete.
“Okay, open your eyes.”
I blink them open and see him squatting down on his patio next to a large, blue plastic tote.
Looking between him and the tote in confusion, he jerks his chin towards the covered box. “Go ahead. Open it.”
With a sigh, I bend down and lift the lid. When I see what’s inside, my hands start to shake and my heart thumps erratically inside my chest.
This can’t be what I think it is.
Swallowing thickly, I slowly reach my hand into the tote and wrap it around a folded piece of Japanese hemp paper and pull it out, holding my breath as I unfold the poster-size piece of paper and lift it up in front of me. My eyes fill with tears as I look at the gunpowder design I created the day Collin and I met in my parent’s backyard. It’s one that I had been working on for weeks and it had never come out right until that very moment. I gaze at my rendition of a Japanese pagoda in a garden, completely caught up in the past.
Shaking off my memories without a word, I set the paper down on the concrete and begin pulling out page after page of hemp paper filled with every single design I created over the two years Collin and I were together. They are the exact same ones he wallpapered his old bedroom with, the ones I always assumed he trashed after he broke up with me. I never thought I’d see them again or feel this incredible sense of longing until right this moment. My fingers itch with the need to play in a pile of black powder and my heart swells with the notion that Collin kept my work for all these years.
“I can’t believe you kept these,” I whisper as a tear rolls down my cheek when I get to the bottom of the tote and pull out the one that I was most proud of. It was a silhouette of Collin standing in front of the town fire station like he’d done so many times when we were together.
“Of course I kept them,” he says, standing up in front of me. “They’re brilliant and I always expected to see ones just like them hanging in a gallery one day.”
I swallow down the embarrassment I feel over never mustering the strength to follow through with my dreams like he did. When we broke up, it was just easier to push them aside. Every time I looked at the pile of hemp paper and the bucket of gunpowder my parents stored in their garage for me, it reminded me of him and I could never bring myself to create another one. A few years after Jordan and I got married, my parents brought over a truckload of my old things when they cleaned out their garage. When Jordan asked about my art supplies and I tried to explain to him how it all worked, his eyes glazed over in boredom. A week later, he had thrown everything away because it was taking up too much space in our garage.