20. December 9- Wilder

Ishould have brought her flowers days ago, but I'm an idiot. Her holiday party is coming, and I don't want to go like this. We've avoided each other for the week, not even speaking if we run into each other. No kissing hello or goodbye and no pouring to-go mugs of coffee for the other. I've been walking on eggshells, certain she'll kick me out, and I've had my stuff mostly packed for a few days in case she tells me to just leave.

I haven't had time to be mad at her that she's mad at me. I've been furious with myself. Why did I have to mention I've cuffed before? At least I didn't let it slip that I have a new partner for cuffing season every year and that I make them sign the contract. That would have sent her nuclear. If she learned that I have a new contract every year, she"d really feel like she wasn't special.

I miss her, though. I miss saving water in the morning by running through the shower together, laughing and kissing as we suds each other's bodies. Sure, we only had those fun times for a week before the Thanksgiving incident that made things awkward, but that was my fault for shutting things down. Something tells me that incident had nothing to do with me and more to do with Heather's meddling.

I should have sucked it up and talked to her about that day. I don't even know why I was so awkward about it. I've never been shy or especially private. The fact that I felt awkward and she wasn't shy was so foreign, a complete flip of our personalities. She was open. I was closed.

Now, we're both closed doors.

I left her alone for her final exams, even though I desperately wanted to massage her shoulders as she bent over textbooks at the dining room table into the wee hours of the morning. I wanted to ask how her exams went, but we've avoided each other. She goes to work and then to Melissa's or the student union, probably looking for a real boyfriend or someone who treats her better.

Fuck, she deserves so much better than me. She's brilliant and beautiful, and I'm an uneducated mechanic with a trail of cuffing partners and failed foster families behind me.

I've thought and thought about why this feels so different as I toss and turn every night in her guest room, wishing my arms were around her. Gus has asked me out on the town, and I've declined because I can't think about having fun or even picking up another woman right now. I can only think about Savannah and how confused I am that I'm only thinking about Savannah. I'm consumed with want for her.

I know she doesn't want me. Why would she? Obviously, I'm no good. She works so hard at work and school. She deserves someone that can provide better for her. She's also made it clear that her job and education come first and that this is just to get Heather off her back. I need to accept that, no matter how much I may be interested in seeing her in the future.

It's best for us to just get through the contract and go our separate ways. But I really need to make up with her and show her the best two months possible.

"Savannah?" I ask, squaring my shoulders and walking into the kitchen. My hands itch at my sides like even they know I should be holding something to give her.

She turns away from the microwave, where she's warming up a frozen burrito. I look at the burrito, and an idea hits me. "Feel like a Chili's run?"

She turns back to the microwave and shrugs. "I don't want to waste this one. I'm low on cash. I need to do Christmas shopping."

I tap the doorframe, lean against it, and nervously pull the hem of my t-shirt. "What do you want for Christmas?" I ask, realizing as soon as the words leave my mouth that I'll get her anything she wants, no matter the cost. I want her to have something nice to remember me by after this cuff.

"I don't know." The microwave dings, and she opens the door. "What do you want?"

"I want the girl I'm living with to talk to me and maybe even give me a hug because I miss the hell out of her." She stops and blinks at me like she's surprised I'm talking to her. I double down. "I know I'm in the doghouse, but I sure wish you'd let me out. I really want to show you how special you are to me. And you are special, Savannah."

I can't articulate why, and she doesn't ask for an explanation I can't give. For that, I'm thankful.

She sets the burrito plate down and sucks in a deep breath before launching herself at me from across the room. The weight of her slamming into me pushes me back against the wall a few feet behind me, but I grab at her like I'm a wild animal, lifting her off the ground and grabbing her ass.

Her lips press against mine hungrily, like we've been starved for each other. Our tongues touch in a sloppy pattern that reminds me of junior high kisses in the movie theater or in someone's basement, but I'm consumed with need for her. My cock stiffens uncomfortably against my pants, and I pull at the buttons on her baby blue cardigan sweater, thoughts of undressing my own personal naughty librarian swirling in my head.

She lets go of me to pull the sweater off and pulls off her tank top in one movement before cupping my cheeks and kissing me everywhere she can reach. I move my hands to her bra strap and have it off in seconds, my mouth already sucking on her nipples before the fabric hits the floor.

I pull us down to the ground in the hallway without a care for moving to the bedroom. Kneeling over her, I undo my pants as she takes care of her own, pulling her pants and panties down all at once and throwing them somewhere behind me.

I glance at the door, making sure the chain is engaged. I know Heather and Melissa both have keys, and it's just my luck they'd stop by the apartment when I've got Savannah on the entry floor.

I fumble through my pants for my wallet and make short work of the condom I keep there while she rubs her hands up and down my abs and pants under me, her eyes never leaving my weeping cock. I flick the wrapper away and watch it land under the end table as I nudge her legs apart and push myself into her in one movement.

We both arch our backs into the sensation, and I roll my neck with pleasure. "Baby," I whisper. I love calling her that, no matter how temporary the nickname is.

Her nails gently run over my skin, first on my stomach, then to my back as I bend over her. I thrust hard so that I can hear that little whimper I like that she does every time I push to the hilt. My hand strokes her hair as I pant against her ear. "Is this what you wanted, Savanah?"

"Yes. I missed you," she whispers back, her breath tickling my jaw.

This is going to be quick. I haven't jerked off in days, and I've missed her tightness around me. "Rub yourself for me. I want to watch."

My shy librarian nods against my neck and brings her hands between us to rub her clit. She uses two fingers, and I make a mental note to do that the next time we're snuggled on the couch and my hands find their way into her panties.

I thrust and push my face into the carpet behind her, groaning and trying not to lose my shit until she loses hers. I try thinking about the roughness of the carpet, work stuff, and the stereotypical baseball game. Nothing works, and I move my hands away from her body to see if that will help. I grip the carpet under me as I hover in pushup position, hoping the physical exertion of a plank will help control my balls.

Thankfully, Savannah tightens under me. "Thank fuck," I mumble as her stomach quivers. She moans my name and twists her torso into the waves of her orgasm.

That pussy, that goddess-like part of her body that I'd burn the world down for, trembles around my length, and I grip her hair as I pound her against the carpet so hard I'll need to apologize for the rug burns later.

I moan her name over and over and cuss against her ear as she wraps her legs around me, urging me on by gripping my ass. Heat moves up my back, and my balls contract as I tremble with pleasure and moan for her. I bury my face in her hair and groan her name in a blended string of curse words that would make Gus blush.

As soon as I unload into the condom, we both still against each other as sweat runs off my forehead and drips to the floor. We breathe against each other, and Savannah tightens her legs at my waist.

"We needed this," I pant when I can speak again. "Let's not be mad at each other and ruin the rest of the time in the contract. It's only a couple more months." I push my forehead to hers and smile against her lips.

She clears her throat and wraps her arms around my back as she drags her hand up my spine in the way she knows I like after sex. How did she figure that out so fast? Does my breathing change or hitch so she knows it's my weakness? Do my eyes flutter? "I don't want to be mad at you, Wilder. I hate it, and I shouldn't be so sensitive. I know the terms. We're temporary, and I need to remember that. I'll be more amenable to a conversation next time."

"I don't know what that will lead to, Savannah," I smile. "I just asked for a hug. Look where it got us."