even after my dick falls out of her. I keep my hands on her tits. I can’t stop feeling her up, even while I fall asleep. Shit, she’s made me into a horny bastard.
Hours later, sunlight stabs me in the eyes when I open them. I reach for Angelina’s clit. I’ve been yearning to see her come in the daylight. But she’s gone.
“What the hell…” I roll over to look at the door. There’s a blanket over me. She must’ve covered me up before leaving. I smell bacon and pancakes. Did I dream last night? I’m certainly capable of having that kind of wet dream. I take a piss and then a quick shower. We definitely had sex. The skin of my dick is tender from fucking her tight pussy.
As I get dressed, I think about what Angelina said about my clothes when we were in Long Beach. I like a nice pair of jeans that fit comfortably and don’t have that embroidered shit on the back pockets. A comfortable V-neck shirt, long sleeved or short sleeved. I’m basic. I don’t get what she’s talking about. That thought gives way to me wanting her here in this room, on the bed and beneath me.
I head downstairs. I hear Jacques and Josephine when I reach the bottom floor. I have this giddy feeling because I anticipate seeing Angelina. I’m also nervous. Why did she leave the bed without telling me? Then I remember what Jacques said last night during our smoke. She can pull you close and still be a million miles away. And then all that shit he told me about his wife and Josephine. Was he warning me about Angelina? He said she was like her mother. If that was a warning, then what am I supposed to do with it? I’m too far in. There’s no turning back.
I walk into the dining room, and Angelina isn’t there.
“Good morning, sleepy head,” Josephine says. She looks vibrant for a woman who’s supposed to be dying. It’s hard to believe that she is.
“Good morning, Ms. Beauchamp.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Ms. Beauchamp? If I’m not Madame then I’m Josephine, but never Ms. Beauchamp to a handsome man like yourself.”
I grin at her. “Sorry. Good morning, Josephine.”
“That’s better.”
I check over my shoulder. I thought I heard someone behind me. “Sit down,” Jacques says.
“How was the poker game last night?” I ask as I take a seat.
Jacques grumbles.
“I told you not to go messing around with Chester. He’ll take you for everything you own—even the socks on your feet,” Josephine says.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jacques grunts.
Waffles, steak, scrambled eggs, biscuits, and home fries are on platters in the middle of the table. Jacques is the only one eating. Josephine didn’t eat dinner the night before either, at least not with us.
“How did you sleep?” She raises her eyebrows as though she already knows the answer to that question.
I glance at Jacques, petrified. Shit, were Angelina and I too loud? Fucking in her mother’s house. Did they hear us?
“Rather well,” I say. I cough to clear my throat. “Is Angelina here?”
“She’s at Karina’s,” Jacques says. Now he’s fiddling with an electronic tablet. It looks like he’s checking his email, which reminds me that I have to check my voice messages.
“What’s going on over there, Jacques?” Josephine asks, craning her neck.
He grimaces as he types out a message. “Same as always. Everybody wants a piece of me, but I’m only one man.” He powers down the tablet. “We’re going to head over to Karina’s this afternoon for a party. Will you be ready to play, music man?” he asks.
“If that’s an invitation, then hell yeah!” I feel kind of guilty. It’s as though he’s rewarding me after I’ve done dirty things to his daughter, and shit, I’m not even close to being done with her.
Jacques smirks. “So how is Daisy doing with your brother? Is she really happy with him?”
I flinch. That question came out of left field. “She’s happy with him.” That’s an easy and true
C. J. Cherryh
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