Same Time Next Week (Ch 62)

“Are you over me, Jackson? You’re sweating and breathing heavy and your dick is hard and you’re scared to touch me. Are you scared you won’t be able to resist me? Are you sure you’re over me?”

There were a few lights on inside—the kitchen, the hallway, the lights above the steps. Jackson moved slowly, rounding the corner into the kitchen. He tossed his keys across the counter and glared at the beautiful, statuesque woman standing in the middle of the room, guzzling a beer.

“This shit tastes stale,” she mumbled, tossing the bottle into the empty recycle bin next to the refrigerator.

“It is,” he said, dropping his satchel on the counter next to his keys and slowly crossing the threshold of the kitchen. “I haven’t been here in a while.”

She nodded, rubbing her belly through a silky blouse with long, fluttering sleeves. “That explains why it tastes like shit.”

Jackson got right to the point, not in the mood for small talk about beer. “Why are you here, Kim?”