Coffee Cream

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It’s been a passion-filled, sex-crazed, whirlwind affair. Roman’s been my knight in shining armor by letting me manage the advertising for his businesses. I’m officially on the map, with “Primo Marketing,” my business, and my baby.

I’m in a situationship with a man that I’m crazy about. He saved me from destitution, so... why am I sending him to voicemail? This always happens to me. I’m a runner. I run from my problems, from love, and from happiness. The thought of failure sends me running for the hills.

I’d been dodging him for days by hiding out in my apartment. My doorbell’s ringing and I know that it’s him. I don’t answer it. I’d moved to Mayberry because I was running from my ex. He told me that I wasn’t marriage material and that something was wrong with me. He said that I had a problem with sex, an addiction.

He’s right. I do have a problem. So now I just move on. I drop men like hot potatoes when they start to show signs of not being able to keep up with me. Roman’s been pushing me away by denying me. His rejections bring about feelings of inadequacy and imperfection. Counting my losses, I give him some space before the big anticlimax. I may lose his business, but I’ve managed to get a couple of clients through him from networking.

Finally venturing back into my office, I thought that I was safe. I’ve barely put my purse away when Roman enters my office. I love the way that he makes me feel. My body responds to him immediately. But I have to remain professional and stick to the plan. It’s for the best. “What can I do for you, Mr. Covington?”

“Cut the bullshit Korin, why haven’t you been answering my calls?”

“I’ve been busy.” I have, hiding.

“You’ve been avoiding me. The least that you can do is tell me why.”

I don’t know how to tell him, and I don’t think that I can trust him. “Are you seeing someone else?” He asks.

“No, I just needed some space.”

“Then that’s all that you had to say. You didn’t have to...”

He’s upset, flustered. Is that hurt that I see in his eyes? It’s gone as soon as it appeared. I highly doubt that that’s what it was.

“How much more space do you need?”

“I’ll let you know,” I state, all business-like.

He leaves without a goodbye, or I’ll see you later, nothing. Now I’m hurt, and it’s my fault. It’s my doing, but it’s what has to be done.

“I love you. You know that. I never stopped loving you.” It’s my ex Tyler. Seven months, and I thought that he’d forgotten about me. “I want to see you. I miss you.” It’s been weeks since Roman and I’ve spoken to or seen each other. I’m still trying to get over him, which is hard to do. He’s in my dreams, my fantasies, and every waking moment of my life. Tyler reaching out may be what I need to get over him. I don’t miss him, his prowess in bed maybe but not him. “When?” I ask.

We’d met up at “Maxims.” I’m dressed in a short, vintage, off-the-shoulder dark grey cocktail dress and heels. My hair’s swept up in a simple updo, and wouldn’t you know it. W&W’s hosting a small social occasion for their employees. I want to leave, but Tyler insists that we stay.

“Mrs. Danvers.”

“Thomas,” I reply, taking a sip of my third Mojito.

“Congratulations on your little business.”

“Thank you,” I state, already tired of him.

“It’s a wonder how you were able to finagle the Covington account away from us. It’s a huge account.”

“Mr. Covington sought me out.”

“After he came to W&W.”

“I didn’t steal him. He was never your client, but I’m not here to talk business. My hours are Monday through Friday, eight to five. You know where to find me.” I reply dismissively. “Are those the hours that Mr. Covington keeps also?”

“Hey.” Says Tyler, joining us.

“Hi, I’m Thomas, Korin’s former boss.” He says, offering his hand.

“And... Thomas was just leaving.” I add, stopping Tyler from accepting.

“Once again, congratulations on your new business and your new relationship.” He says, with a sardonic smile, before leaving us.

What an ass...

“New relationship, you’re seeing someone?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Just wanted to know if there was some competition that I needed to be aware of.”

An awkward silence follows, and when I thought that the night couldn’t get any worse. “Korin.” It’s a quiet whisper directly in my ear. Oh, my freaking god! His deep rich baritone sends a pleasant shiver through my center, and my heart literally skips a beat. With his hand on my arm possessively, I want to squeal with delight. A scorching heat emanates from my core, and a quiver of bliss saturates my panties.

“Roman...” I reply breathlessly.

The man incites explicit thoughts and stimulating sensations. His eyes roam my body slowly, a trail of heat following in their wake. “Beautiful.” He says, after his assessment. Why does this man make me feel vulnerable and hot ass hell?

“I’m Tyler, and you are?”

An amazing fuck partner.

“A friend.” Roman answers.

“Well, friend zone, we’re on a date, and we’d like to get back to it.”

“Yeah, sure. It’s no problem.” Just a look, and I’m on the verge of jumping this man. “I’ll be at the loft, in case you need me.” He says, parting with his infamous kiss on the ear and a light lick on the lobe. Mmm.... damn! Yep... I can barely contain myself, as I’m antsy and ready for this night to be over.

Needless to say, that it doesn’t take long for Tyler to get on my damn nerves. I make a hasty retreat, ending the night entirely too early. Excusing myself to the ladies’ room, I stealthily steal away to my car and floor it on out of there.

Roman’s waiting for me with candles lit and rose petals on the floor leading to the bed. The champagne’s poured, and my clothes have become too confining. I want him and waste no time trying to remove my dress. “No.” He says, stopping me. There’s a spark of electricity when his lips softly meet mine. “Please...” I beg him.

“No, I want you to...”

He’s watching me as I’m literally trying to rip the dress off and take a tumble backward onto the bed. His light laugh at my struggles as I try to free myself from the dress agitates me. “A little help.” Joining me on the bed, he halts my frenzied movements by restraining my arms. “Stop.” Exhaling deeply, I give in. I love his dominance, as he has me pinned to the bed. “Why is there always a rush? Let me enjoy you, and you enjoy me.”

“I do... it’s just...”

“Just what?” He probes.

“There’s something wrong with me.”


“I have a problem. I’m addicted to sex.”

He’s quiet, and I’m mortified. Trying to remove myself from his grip, I can’t. So, I turn my face from his. “Is that why you pushed me away?” I don’t know what to say, and so I remain quiet. “I’m crazy about you.” He says, releasing me. The back of his hand gently caresses my face. It’s an effort not to give in and attack. His fingers drifting temptingly lower caress the peak of my breast, and I stifle a moan. My breathing increases and I close my eyes.

The pressure of the fabric being ripped from my body turns me on. I want to straddle him, take all of his length into my pussy. Instead, I temper my need allowing him to dominate me. His tongue, wet and warm, samples my nipple. Inhaling deeply from his sweet assault, I pounce. I’m immediately pushed back onto the bed.

“Roman...” I moan his name as his kisses travel lower and lower still. The anticipation builds and crests when his tongue gently explores my nub. I’ve latched onto his hair as he drinks the nectar from my flower. “Yes...” I encourage him. “You taste so good.” He whispers, drawing my orgasm unexpectedly and hard. My body convulses as his tongue enters my sex. The crashing of the orgasmic waves has me screaming his name in pleasure.

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