Starfire (Peaches Monroe #3)(55)
Author: Mimi Strong

*This irrational fear is unusual, but no more weird than my mother’s. She won’t store the milk directly under the light bulb inside the fridge, because she worries the light bulb will come on while the door’s closed, and the heat will spoil the milk.

I finished getting ready for the night and climbed into my bed.

I had an incoming text message from Adrian: Are you still up?

Me: I’m in bed, but I’m awake, obviously.

Adrian: I can’t sleep.

CHAPTER 24

Me: Have you tried counting sheep?

Adrian: Not yet.

Me: Hey, have you ever noticed that people don’t suggest masturbating as a cure for insomnia? Unless you think that’s what people mean by counting sheep?

Adrian: Hmm.

Me: Do you actually have insomnia, or are you looking for an excuse to get a photo of my other nipple, so you have a matching set?

Adrian: I’m going to start “counting sheep” right now.

Me: Oh! Oh, baby. You’re so hard. Look how big and hard you are.

Adrian: More.

Me: My mouth is all wet and I’m licking my lips. I want to put your long, hard c**k in my mouth.

Adrian: And?

Me: Your c**k is in my mouth right now, and I’m sucking your thunderstick so hard it’s turning purple.

Adrian: Ow.

Me: Now I’m being gentle. So soft and gentle, like a feather. I’m just tickling around the head with the tip of my tongue. Around and around with soft, gentle licks. Then I’m sucking hard again, but not too hard this time.

Adrian: Ah.

Me: Now I’m sliding you in and out of my hot, juicy mouth. I’m so hot for you. Where do you want to come? Do you want to come in my mouth?

Adrian: Tits.

Me: You dirty boy! I’m still sucking your cock, and I’m also unlacing myself out of this really tight corset. It’s such a pretty corset, covered in lace and pearls, but I need to get it off because you’re going to give me the real pearls. A pearl necklace.

Adrian: Yes.

Me: Now I’m sucking your cock, and I’m also rubbing my br**sts with my hands. I’m squeezing my big, gorgeous tits, and I feel like I’m going to burst. Are you ready?

Adrian: Yes.

Me: I can’t wait anymore! Your c**k is going to burst. I’m taking it out of my mouth, and it’s all glistening and wet. Now I’m lying on my back, my big br**sts ready to receive your present. I’m stroking your c**k with my hand to make you come.

Adrian: Now.

Me: And now it’s coming out like a big jetstream of beautiful pearls, all over my br**sts! Oh, oh, I’m coming, too! I’m writhing around on the bed, and your pearls are on my chest and my neck and my face. Some went in my mouth and they taste so good and they’re making me come. Seven times!

Adrian: Wow.

Me: Are we still going?

I didn’t get a message for about a minute.

Adrian: Okay. I have counted sheep.

Me: Do you feel sleepy now?

Adrian: I wish you were here with me.

Me: Get some rest. Tomorrow’s a big day.

He replied with a cartoon kiss picture.

I did the same and said goodnight.

Then I tucked my phone away carefully inside my purse, slipped my hand under the blankets, and rubbed one out in about two seconds flat.

~

Tuesday morning, I met Adrian at the store, where he was friendly, but all business. No mention was made of pearl necklaces or thundersticks.

We began the big move of Peachtree Books, and, even though I’m more than capable of lugging around heavy boxes and dismantling bookshelves, I played the Girl Card and let the big, burly movers do most of the lifting. Gordon Oliver Junior was there with his clipboard, and Adrian had his tool belt on, so I jotted down coffee and muffin orders, then went back and forth between Peachtree and Java Jones.

We managed to get everything loaded into the trucks by six o’clock. Instead of working a double shift, the movers drove the trucks back to where they usually parked overnight, and would return in the morning, to the new location, where we’d unload.

Three things about the move surprised me.

1. Given all the people we had on site, I thought we would have been done by lunch time, but everything took so long. I bet if the movers had been paid a flat rate instead of hourly, they wouldn’t have spent so long f**king around with things needlessly. (Here’s a hint, guys: I’m no rocket scientist, but I know not to spend twenty minutes re-arranging a dozen huge boxes to save three cubic feet of space for a two-mile move.)

2. You’d swear, by the assortment of stuff found under the shelves (dice, bookmarks, dog treats, candies, elastic bands, and two rubber balls), that we hadn’t cleaned the store. Ever.

3. The store didn’t look bigger without the stuff. It didn’t look like an enormous lofty space for roller skating. It just looked like a very sad retail store that specialized in dust.

Gordon didn’t even seem excited at the end of the day, now that he could see what he was getting for the wine store.

“I guess I’ll deal with this eventually,” he said, and started papering up the windows with brown paper.

Gordon explained the paper was to create an aura of mystery and excitement about the renovation. Personally, I think it was to protect the old gal’s modesty, so people wouldn’t see the store nearly naked, looking worn out and forlorn with her scratched-up floors.

I’d said goodbye the day before, but I felt it that day when I walked out, leaving behind nothing but memories.

“I need a new body,” Adrian groaned as he rubbed his lower back.

We stood outside the bookstore, watching more brown paper go up in the windows, until there was nothing left to see.

“You could come to my house for a hot bath,” I offered. “We boil the kettle a few times to get it full and hot, but the tub’s got a good shape, and I have lots of girlie lotions.”

“Will you get in with me?”

“Hah! The tub’s not as big as…” Not as big as the one in the fancy hotel—the one I shared with Dalton in San Francisco three days ago.

Adrian gave me a loose hug and kissed the top of my head. “Thanks, but I’ve gotta go shower.”

“You could shower at my house.”

He looked down at me, his blue eyes looking sad—sad that I was so stupid, and couldn’t figure out he had a date with Golden that night.

“Another time,” I said, speaking before he could elaborate on exactly why he wasn’t coming over. “I’ve got some things to do on my own, anyway.”

“Say hi to Shayla for me,” he said.