Page 30
Story: Climbing Everest
I ignore her.
She called me B. As though my nickname isn’t short enough, she shortened it to B when we were barely sixteen or seventeen. Although she tended to refer to us by our initials a lot back then, mostly to keep from slipping up in front of anyone and revealing our relationship.
“Are you going to ignore me the whole trip?”
I keep my eyes on the road, my knuckles turning white at the grip around the wheel. She smells sweet. Too sweet. Like whatever shit Kato bought for her shower. I don’t think it’s perfume, but it’s not that same warm scent I remember from years ago.
Although, that could have been perfume back then and I wouldn’t have a clue. Not like I ever asked.
I didn’t care.
The only thing that mattered to me back then was that she was mine.
“I thought you boys were inviting Flora over today.”
With a growl, I ghost her with a glance. “Far from a boy, and she’s unavailable today.” I roll my head on my shoulders and mutter, “Thank God,” under my breath.
I haven’t had a chance to ask Madd what the fuck he was thinking when he brought that bitch up. She bogarted so much of Everest’s time when we were young, would drag her to these clubs while they both wore dresses that left little to the imagination.
I don’t know if Everest ever knew, but I was at every single club they visited, sticking to the shadows and making sure no cocksucker hit on her or put his fucking hands on my wife.
And yeah, even as a teenager, I thought of her as my wife, ring or not.
She’ll eventually be Everest Antoniou, but she’ll be no less mine than she is Kato’s. She’ll be Madd’s, too. Our wife. Our woman.
The mother of our children.
After a few more minutes of silence, she leans forward and turns on the radio.
And I promptly reach forward to turn it off. For no other reason than to piss her off.
She sits back with a frustrated huff and crosses her arms over her chest.
While she stares through the side window, I take a peek at her thighs exposed by the short as fuck skirt I chose for the day. Her skin looks so soft and smooth, and I’m tempted to run my fingertips along them and under the skirt to see if she wore panties.
Motherfucker. Now my dick is hard. Painfully hard. It feels like the second the thought crossed my mind, every drop ofblood rushed from my head to my groin, and I amnotsitting at the right angle.
Raising my ass off the seat a little, I adjust myself and try to give my cock a little more room in my jeans.
I’m getting impatient. I want to fuck her.
More than that, I want to see her reaction over the surprise I have in store for her in the form of piercings.
I want to taste her pussy, see if it’s still as sweet as I remember. I want to feel if she’s still tight, or if she’s been used up like a cheap whore.
I want to make hermypersonal whore.
All these thoughts are doing nothing to make my dick relax.
“Is this a road trip deal? Because we could stop for fast food or snacks. You didn’t exactly give me time –”
“Ten minutes,” I bark out, my tone harsher and deeper than I intend with my libido on fucking overdrive.
Another of those infuriating huffs and she’s back to watching the scenery pass by her window.
I pull into the shopping center and park around back. She frowns at the brick building and runs her gaze across the doors.
If she’d been paying closer attention, she would know exactly where we are. But this is going to be way more fun. I can’t wait to see her reaction when she catches on to what kind of appointment I scheduled for her today.
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