Page 18 of FWB

Tiegan

K enny picks me up early Saturday morning, black coffee and a dozen donuts waiting for me in the car.

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a variety,” he tells me when I open the box and see the assortment of pretty donuts.

“Where are these from?” I choose a warm, plain glazed donut.

“Donut Palace. Best donuts in town, and you can’t beat Miss Pearl’s hospitality.”

“I love Donut Palace! I agree! Miss Pearl is the best, isn’t she?” I ask, talking about the sweet lady that moved here from Mexico when she was a little girl. She ended up opening a franchised local donut shop and has been thriving. She and her team make the best donuts in Nashville.

Tyler Childers croons through the car speakers with “In Your Love.” I settle into my seat with my donut and hot coffee, prepared to spend the next four hours uninterrupted with Kenny.

“I have to pee,” I say when we pass into the Eastern time zone.

Kenny pulls off at an exit for a town called Harriman.

He enters the parking lot of a 7/11 and turns off the ignition, getting out of the car.

When he stands and stretches, a sliver of his soft, hairy belly peeks out from under his T-shirt.

He catches me staring and shakes his head. “You’re a mess.”

I smile. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

We make our way inside the convenience store, and I notice that the ladies’ restroom is out of order. Kenny starts to go into the men’s room but I dash in at the last second. “What are you doing?” he asks, before he can undo his fly.

“I really have to pee and the ladies’ room is closed. Just… go over there and do your business. Don’t mind me,” I say, shooing him toward the urinal on the other side of the room.

“Tiegan, I am not peeing with you in the same room.”

Pulling my shorts and underwear down, I say, “You could have been done by now.”

He shakes his head and turns around to use the urinal. By the time he’s done, I’m washing my hands, but he doesn’t put his cock away.

I look at him through the reflection in the mirror. “What are you doing?”

He looks at me with hunger in his eyes and stands behind me. His hands roam over my body as I dry my hands on a paper towel. I lean into his touch.

“Slip your shorts down,” Kenny instructs.

“What? In here ?”

“We could have been done by now,” he says, throwing my earlier words back at me.

I huff out an amused laugh before sliding my shorts and underwear back down.

“Bend over the sink and spread your legs.”

I do as instructed and he spits into his hand, lubing his cock up while stroking, getting it ready for me. Before I know it, he’s pressed up against me, entering my wet pussy.

“You’ve got to be quiet,” he informs as he pumps in and out.

It takes all of my strength not to let out a single whimper. He feels so good. I don’t finish before he comes undone, but I don’t mind. I don’t expect to get off in a gas station bathroom. We both clean up and exit the restroom, one at a time as to not cause suspicion.

A little over two hours later, we’re pulling into the Biltmore Hotel. The historic estate is massive. And expensive . “Kenny, please tell me we’re just touring the estate and not actually staying here,“ I state, exasperated.

He doesn’t say anything as he parks the car; he simply gives me one of his blinding smiles. I can tell that he reserves his smiles mainly for me. I like that.

We make our way out of the car and into the lobby of the estate’s inn. The historic space is massive and grand, with expensive antique furniture adorning the space. Overhead, a gigantic crystal chandelier emits a beautiful ambiance.

Kenny walks over to the check-in attendant and gives his name and reservation information. Once our keys are in hand, we’re guided to the elevator that will take us to the top floor.

“Kenny,” I hiss as we walk down the long hallway to our room. “Why are we staying in the most expensive place in Asheville? I’m sure …” My words die in my throat when we reach our room and he opens the door.

Kenny didn’t reserve us a plain room. Oh, no.

He reserved a suite . We walk into the expansive room that opens into a sitting area adorned with an ornamental couch, chaise lounge, chair, and glass coffee table.

A large flatscreen TV is mounted to the wall across from the sitting area.

Straight ahead is the kitchen and to our left is the bedroom, fit with a four-poster California king bed.

The adjoining en suite has the biggest Jacuzzi tub I’ve ever seen. “Kenny, this is way too much!”

“No, it’s not. If it was too much, I wouldn’t have done it. I want us to have a good time this weekend and splurge on something a little nicer than our usual Red Roof.”

“At least let me pay for the meals this weekend. It’s the least I can do.”

“No way. I told you I was going to take care of everything if you came this weekend. This isn’t the only surprise I have for you, either,” he says, giving me a devious smirk.

“This is way too much, Kenny.”

He comes over and pulls me into a fierce bear hug. “Nothing is too much for you. You pay me back in more ways than you know.”

I look into his coffee eyes. “Fine. But you’re not the only one with something up their sleeve for this weekend.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asks, intrigued.

I break away from his embrace and grab my overnight bag before going into the bathroom and locking the door. When I emerge, I’m wearing a crimson lace bodysuit with a very deep V-cut neckline, showing off my cleavage and sternum tattoo. Adorning my neck is a choker collar, ready to be utilized.

“I think I really like your surprises.”

And then he pounces.

We don’t end up leaving the room on Saturday night, opting to order room service for dinner. However, we’re up bright and early Sunday for a day of sight-seeing. Kenny tells me his next surprise is tonight. I’m so full of anticipation that I have a hard time being patient.

We eat lunch at my favorite restaurant in Asheville, Mayfel’s.

We each order a burger with a side of their homemade pickles.

Beignets with their “special sauce” finishes the meal.

It’s heaven. Afterward, we spend the afternoon walking around downtown.

Kenny makes sure to hold my hand while we walk across the crosswalks, but he doesn’t motion to take his hand away once we’re safely on the sidewalk.

Only when he holds shop doors open for me does he remove his hand from mine. I enjoy his warmth.

As the evening draws nearer, I get more antsy about his surprise. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “What are we doing tonight? What do you have planned?”

He stops on the sidewalk and pulls out his phone, opens an app and shows me the screen.

On the phone, there are two digital tickets to Amythyst Kiah’s show tonight at The Orange Peel.

I squeal in delight. Amythyst is one of my favorite artists, but she doesn’t play a lot in Nashville, considering she lives in East Tennessee.

It’s a real treat anytime I get to see her perform and hear her low, sultry alto voice.

I throw my arms around Kenny and kiss him.

“I take it you’re a fan?” he teases as I break away from our embrace.

“She’s incredible! I can’t believe you were able to get tickets last minute.”

We head over to the venue, grab a couple drinks and settle in against the stage barrier.

The opener is a local Asheville musician that I’m not familiar with, but they’re good.

When Amythyst and her band take the stage, the crowd goes wild.

Amythyst steps up to the mic and plays the opening bars to a deep-cut, “Wildebeest.” It’s one of my favorite songs of hers.

I grab Kenny’s shirt to bring his ear to my lips so he can hear me. “I didn’t even know you liked Amythyst. This is amazing.”

“Well, I’ll be honest. I might have pressed Rex for information on which show you’d be interested in. It just happened to work out that Amythyst was playing.”

I stare at him for a moment before bringing him in for a kiss.