The Suit (10 page)

I read somewhere that men think about sex every seven seconds. I’m not sure I fully agree with that, I mean it could be true only if the sexual thoughts are more abstract. There are severely sexual thoughts, like
hey I’d like to fuck that hot girl over there
, then there are ones that are much more subtle. Like
that girl’s ass looks good in those pants
or
she has a nice rack
. While those thoughts are sexual they are not full-on-sex.

But as of thirteen hours ago, when the smoking hot Edie James let that silk robe slide off her banging little body and she showed me the promised lands, I’ve been on the far end of the spectrum thinking about every way I’d like to have her. These ways include, but are not limited to on top of me, under me, in front of me, bent over a desk, on a horse, and so on. This morning I worried things would be awkward, but the farm girl surprised me once again. We got up extremely early since the expected temperature would near one hundred degrees today, and exercised the horses while it was somewhat cool out before the heat of the day hit. Around ten we came up and she made us breakfast and we talked about her time growing up in Tennessee and our favorite bands.

Then after we ate, she left saying she had a few errands to run and since there were no horses to work or deal with until the afternoon, leaving wasn’t a big deal. I’m guessing she really needs a little time to herself. Understandable. Maybe I need some time to myself, too.

After trying to force myself to study and failing miserably, I find myself listless, wondering around the old farm house, and before I know it, I’m in her room. Her room is the second biggest in the house, next to her grandfather’s, which from what I can tell she hasn’t touched.

Her bed is made, a soft white down comforter covering it and my mind drifts to images of spreading her across it, naked and moaning my name. Fuck. I really have to get a grip. I cannot stop thinking about having sex with this girl. I’m sure Bud James is up in heaven now telling Peter and Paul to lock the fucking gates when they see me coming. I know I’m a shit for breaking my promise to him, but I have to believe Bud would prefer her with me over that dick, Dierk. I mean, I’m sure he would prefer neither of us, but…if he
had
to choose. At least this is what I’m telling myself.

On the dresser, there’s a picture of Edie as a young girl with a woman I know has to be her mother. They have the same big brown eyes. Next to it is a photo of Bud, smiling as he holds a pipe in his mouth. As I scan her room, my gaze falls on a tall book shelf. This is where she keeps all of her literary porn. I mosey over and run my fingers across the spines wondering which one she’ll pick next to play out.

After leafing through a few pages of some Fifty Shades of something or another, which judging by what I read, it involves a riding crop and something about a red room of pain, I’m wondering if she’ll pick this one to act out. I head into Bud’s room across the hall and notice it’s very tidy, organized, and mostly untouched.

“I haven’t been able to come in here.” My head jerks as Edie speaks, scaring the crap out of me. She laughs when she sees my reaction. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I shouldn’t be in here. I’m sorry.” I move to exit, but she puts a hand up stopping me.

“Stay a minute. If you don’t mind. It’s easier to be in here with someone else.” She moves to the long dresser and gazes down at a black and white photo of what appears to be Bud and her grandmother on their wedding day.

“He loved her very much. I never met her. She passed before I was born, but he told me they were kindred spirits.” She picks up the frame and hands it to me. It’s a beautiful photo, her grandmother young and flawless draped in white lace head to toe, Bud wearing a tux, a gigantic grin on his face.

“I guess that’s all we can ever hope for. To find somebody like ourselves, huh?”

Edie smiles and takes the frame from me and gently sets it back on the dresser. “And what would your perfect match be, Suit?”

“Well, a business woman maybe.” I shrug. Truth is, I’m not sure. A business woman would fit into the life I’ve picked, but they can be too driven, too callous. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I just haven’t found one that felt right.

“Lady suits and corporate meetings.” Edie smiles as she crosses her arms and leans back against the dresser watching me.

“What about you? What is Edie James looking for in a man?” I attempt to deflect the attention away from myself; always bring it back to her.

Her eyes glance at the floor before meeting mine again. “I’m not sure,” she says, thoughtfully. “Maybe a man who loves the land and horses and a man who can excite me, always make me feel…passionate.” Our gazes are locked and the slightest hint of blush covers her cheeks. She clears her throat and breaks eye contact with me. “Sorry. That was probably a little more information than you wanted.”

Sensing her embarrassment, I decide to change the subject. “You should redecorate this room. Make it your own. I bet Bud would want that.”

Her eyes dart around the room and she sighs, “Maybe.”

“I can help you paint or whatever,” I offer.

“Yeah?” she asks surprised.

“I am your slave for the summer,” I joke.

“In more ways than one, huh?” She laughs.

“Last night, that was…” How do I describe one of the most erotic moments of my life when we didn’t even have sex or anything near it. We just kissed.

Edie, I think sensing my struggle for words, says, “Are you up for some more of that?”

Fuck yes!
“Sure,” I answer coolly.

“Well, I have another in mind. If you want, we can start after dinner.”

“Okay.” I smile as my cell phone rings interrupting us. I pull it from my pocket and see Ainsley’s name lit up across the screen.
Shit
. This is the second time she’s called me today. I had hoped if I ignored her she’d get the hint, but that doesn’t seem to be working.

“Do you need to get that?”

“No,” I reply as I hit end on my phone to stop it from ringing. “So we’re on?” I quickly change the subject. “I’m not going to lie. I’ve been thinking about it all fucking day.” Even now my dick is hard because I haven’t been able to get the image of her naked body out of my head.

She bites her lower lip as her cheeks flush deeper. I don’t need her to answer. I can see the desire and excitement swirling in her eyes. She wants this just as badly as me. “Well, until this evening, Suit.” She leaves the room and I remain still, willing my erection to go down.
Shit.
This woman is something else. As I begin to adjust myself, Edie’s head pops back around the doorway.

Her grin is wide when she sees what I’m doing.

“Shit. Sorry,” I grumble.

“I’m glad you’re looking forward to it. I am, too.”

“Good.” I grin.

“Just wanted to tell you to wear your suit pants and a dress shirt with a tie tonight.” Then she’s gone.

After the day’s work is done, we shower and meet in the kitchen. I’m impressed the suit knows how to cook. He’s been quite helpful in the kitchen these past days. We make pork loin with a risotto and asparagus. We laugh and flirt while we cook, but never touch. And it’s torture. I so badly want to brush against his arm or feel him place his hand on the small of my back. My body is aching to feel him, but I know there will be plenty of touching after dinner. When we sit down to eat, Suit begins to assault me with questions. I wonder to myself if he’s trying to figure me out. How does a simple farm girl, as I know he’s pegged me, come up with playing out her fantasies with an almost stranger?

“So, you went to college?” he asks before taking a bite of his risotto.

“Made it a year and a half, but yes, I went.”

“Where?”

“NYU.”

“Really?” His surprise offends me somewhat, but I let it slide.

“Do I not seem cultured enough for the Big Apple?” I tease.

“It’s not about seeing you as cultured or not, you just don’t strike me as the kind of person who would’ve wanted to go to school in New York.”

I stare at him blankly. What does that mean and should I be offended by it? I shake my head and go back to eating, deciding to let
his last statement slide. “I wanted to see what was out there like most young people do.”

“Tell me your favorite thing about New York,” he says before shoveling food in his mouth. For all of his sophisticated city ways, he sure eats like a farm boy, elbows on the table, barely chewing.

“That’s easy.” I lean back in my chair, wine glass in hand. “Two Little Red Hens’ cheesecake,” I answer before taking a sip. He stares at me blankly.

“Out of everything in New York, cheesecake is your favorite thing?” he asks dryly.

I narrow my gaze at him. “Oh, I’m sorry. Should I have said Rockefeller Center or Times Square?”

“No,” he laughs a little. “Just surprised you picked cheesecake of all things.”

“Not just any cheesecake. Little Red Hens’ cheesecake.” I place my wine glass on the table and pick up my fork. “Makes my mouth water just thinking about it.”

His gaze meets mine and his eyes darken. “I’m looking at something that’s making my mouth water, too. And I have a feeling it tastes way better than cheesecake.” Heat blankets my entire body and I have to squeeze my legs together. As desire consumes me, I bite my lower lip. When his gaze falls to my mouth, he smirks.

“So, why’d you quit? School, I mean.” How can he so casually change the subject like that? As if he didn’t just soak my panties with that little line?

Shaking my head, I try to think of how to answer his question. Why’d I quit college? Memories of my ex, his horrible break up over the phone and my broken heart come barreling back into my head. How weak of me to leave over a man. I know the suit will judge me, look down on me, but I won’t lie. Daddy Bud said to me once, that our past is just that—the past. And we have to let it go to move on. And that’s what I’ve done.

“Well, I left because of a guy. Not that you care, but I thought I was in love. He waited for me for two years and when I finally gave it up to him, he sent me a text message saying he wanted to break up. Apparently he found a new girl to chase. I later found out he wasn’t really waiting for me at all and had been cheating on me the entire time. So I was devastated and I decided to come home where I belong.”

The suit just stares at me, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking. My guess is either he’s pitying me or judging me. Either way I don’t like it.

“Go ahead,” I sigh. “Tell me how weak I am.”

“He was your first, wasn’t he?” Suit asks delicately and our gazes meet. I’m thankful I don’t see pity or judgment in his eyes, instead I see sympathy. Like he understands why I came home after such a thing.

“Yeah,” I snort. “I really picked a winner, too.”

Suit leans back and runs a hand through his thick dark hair. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up his forearms and he looks good enough to eat. I shift in my seat as the ache I’ve been fighting all evening begins to pulse between my legs. I hate that just looking at him can get me like this.

“You’re not weak. We all need to run away from pain sometimes,” he says softly before leaning back toward his plate and eating again. I’m surprised by his words. He actually sounds like he understands. I want to ask him questions, but he quickly begins asking me more about how I grew up and I never get the chance.

When we finish eating, Suit does the dishes while I clear the table and counters. I’m a little nervous about my literary selection for tonight. I’m hoping the suit will be as eager as he promised. While his back is turned, I scurry to my room, grab the book off of my bed and head back into the kitchen. He’s drying his hands on a dish towel and watches me enter, his eyes bright with excitement.

“Before we start, have you been tested? Ya know, for STDs?”

“I’ve always used protection. Always,” he emphasizes.

“I’m on the pill, but if you’d prefer to use something, we can.” Damn, why is my voice shaking? I’m so freaking nervous. Maybe it shouldn’t matter what he thinks, but it does. I want to be good. I want to blow his mind. He’s so damn sexy, especially in his suit, I’m about to self-combust.

“You are?” he questions, shock evident in his tone. Probably seems odd I’m taking birth control pills when I have no sex life at all.

“Regulates my periods and what not,” I mumble. “I was safe and I’ve only been with one guy, so…”

“I’m fine with not using anything, if you are.” His voice is so deep and rich. I have to squeeze my legs together I’m getting so worked up.

“Okay then.” I swallow. I flip open the book and find the page with the folded corner, marking where I want to start. “Your name is Victor and I’m Louise.”

“Nice to meet you, Louise.” He grins and I nod.

“I’m going to read this page, the rest we can kind of…make up as we go along.”

“As you wish.”