Waiting For Sunday

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It had been three months. Three blissful months since Oliver had asked me to put all my trust in him and give us a chance.

Today was Saturday and today was the last day we could pack any boxes before leaving the old studio and moving to our new premises across the city. It meant I would be further from home but the extra distance wouldn’t be a problem and I could handle getting out my bed earlier.

Our client base had grown, and with the edition of our new instructor Beth, I could cut back on teaching and concentrate more on the business from behind the scenes. Sure I’d miss seeing all my ladies, but I knew they were being left in very capable hands.

The only other downside to moving was that I wouldn’t see Ollie during the day as much, but there would always be the kinky and sometimes dirty texts and emails.

But today he was all mine, and what a sight he was. The weather had been unusually warm this weekend and so when I came back from another coffee run, I stopped in the doorway as my very own golden and blonde-haired adonis stood with a box in his arms.

“Stop staring,” he grinned as I walked in slowly, leaving the door open as I swallowed— hard.

“What happened to your t-shirt?”

“Oh, you mean this?” He asked pulling it from the back pocket of his snug-fitting jeans, “It was just getting in the way,”

“Sure,” I smirked, placing the cardboard cups down on the desk.

“What— it did, the sleeves kept catching on the handles,”

“Really? You’re telling me that fabric which sits higher up on your body I might add, somehow got caught on a small handle which sits at the same height as your hips?” I ask folding my arms and biting the inside of my cheek.

“It does,” he says with the biggest and cheekiest smile on his lips.

Placing the box down on the floor, Oliver saunters towards me, wrapping his bare arms around me and squeezes me so hard I think my ribs will give way.

“You always know how to catch me out,”

“I do?”

“Yes,” he whispers, nuzzling his face into my neck, “I’m screwed if I ever cheat you,”

Not funny,” I warn, trying to pull away.

It had come to that time, the time like all the others where the boyfriend had begun losing interest. Their affection became less, their eyes— wandering, and although I’d had no signs of that from Oliver just yet, the anxiety was still there, tearing at my heart and my mind, bringing on what should be unnecessary feelings, but still present more than ever.

It didn’t help that while we’d been out walking one evening, that from across the street I’d seen Jake, holding hands with some brunette. Jealousy reared its ugly head but god knows why?

I’d been the one to tell him we’d be nothing more than friends, so the fact that he’d met someone else shouldn’t have been a big deal, but for some unfathomable reason, it was.

Nearly all of the ill-feeling washed away when Oliver kissed me, not noticing where my eyes had been drawn to, but it was still there, an irritating niggle in the back of my mind.

That had been two months ago, and since then I’d not seen or heard from him and now here we were today, stood alone with Oliver in the studio packing away. Amalia told me she’d be in later, with Amy tagging along for help.

Both Oliver and I knew that something was going on between them, but they just didn’t seem to want to share that with us, which was fine. Beth was away for the weekend with her parents, so we were for the most part— alone until they arrived.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against my neck.

“It’s fine,”

“It’s not fine, I shouldn’t have joked about it, I wouldn’t leave, not now, not ever,” he promises me, kissing my neck again, trailing his lips deliciously slow until they press against my mouth, deepening as his tongue pushes past my lips.

I welcome the kiss, lust-filled as it is, but I know we need to finish packing and we couldn’t do that if we kept stopping to kiss or to inevitably have sex, because the chance of that was quite high. His libido matched mine, although I didn’t always act upon it. I liked teasing him, showing him what he had, but he was always so patient, so kind, and never forceful.



“How full is the stock room?”

“Oliver Ross, this is the last day I can pack everything up before the removal van gets here tomorrow, and I don’t have time for something as trivial as sex with my boyfriend,” I scoff, trying not to smile and pulling myself from his grasp again.

“Oh— really?” He laughs, nipping at my neck again before hoisting me into his arms and striding towards the cupboard.

“Oh my god, my eyes!”

“Amalia!” We both yell as the door swings open. With her hands over her eyes, and Amy stood behind her trying her best to stifle the laugh that begged to leave her lips, we quickly pick up our clothes, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as Oliver slams the door shut.

“Really?” She calls out, “The stock room cupboard— again? You guys have heard of beds, right? Those funny rectangles that you sleep in, you can sometimes use them for sex too?”

“Shut up Amalia,” Oliver shouts back, turning his gaze from his zipper to my eyes.

“We’ll finish this later,” he smiles lustfully, kissing me so quickly I don’t know what the hell is happening, “She’ll be out in a minute,” he snaps, closing the door as he makes his escape.

“I mean seriously, you two are feral, I’m just glad you weren’t doing anything on my—,”

“AMALIA!” I groaned as the door begins swinging towards her.

“Well— I mean,” she begins but is cut off as the door clicks in place.

Stepping out meekly minutes later, she stands there, her arms folded against her chest, smirking.

“Don’t,” I warn walking past her. Amalia holds her hands up in defence and smiles, “I wasn’t going to say anything,”

Rolling my eyes, I smile towards Amy and carry on packing boxes.

By the time we finish, it's almost 7 in the evening and we all need something to eat. We hadn't stopped all day, but everything was safely packed away.

“We did some good work today,” Amalia smiles, dusting her hands as she stands from the floor.

“Uh— we? I believe you spent most of it flicking the packing peanuts at Amy,”

“Yeah, but did you see her squirm? It was funny,” she giggles as Amy playfully slaps her arm.

“I’m sorry,” she pouts, wrapping her arms around her, momentarily forgetting that we were stood in front of them both.

Clearing her throat, Amalia quickly lets go of her and begins picking up the empty boxes, “I’ll uh— go put these in my car,” she panics and disappears as we all smile. Oliver winks at Amy as she looks to the floor, her teeth biting into her lip.

“Please don’t say anything,” she pleads.

“Don’t worry,” Oliver smiles, draping his arm over her shoulder, “We won’t say anything,”

"Thank you,"

"No need to thank us," I tell her, "We know when something needs to stay a secret, if only for a little while,"

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