Free Blast From The Past 2 by Faith Winslow

Tommy.
    “Tommy, I’m sorry,” I said rather abruptly. “But I think you should leave now.”
    “What?” he asked, still panting and grinding his cock against me.
    I liked the feel of what he was doing, but couldn’t avoid my thoughts any longer. I pulled myself down from the counter and pushed him away, making my way toward the living room.
    “I have so much going on right now,” I said, trying to explain myself. “And this is just going too fast for me right now… I can’t deal with it all. I need time.”
    Tommy had followed me out of the kitchen, and he looked like a kid who’d just discovered that there’s no Santa.
    “All right,” he said. “I’m not going to pressure you into anything—and I will leave, if that’s what you want me to do… Is that what you want me to do?”
    Again, the ball was in my court, and I either had to run with it, or drop it.
    “It is,” I said, letting Tommy’s hopes down. “It’s just too much, too quickly, and I don’t want to do anything I’ll regret later… I’ll call or text you in a couple days, no matter what—I promise. But, right now, I just need some space.”
    “As you wish,” Tommy said. He said it like Wesley, from The Princess Bride , and he walked out of my door just as considerately and politely.

~ Chapter 13 ~
     
    The next morning, I woke up with a bit of a headache. I’d finished the bottle of wine Tommy opened after he left, then fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position on the couch. I meandered around my apartment for a bit, trying to work the headache off, and eventually got a shower to start my day officially.
    Once I got out of the shower, I decided to throw on nothing more than a clean nighty and panties. It was still relatively early in the morning, and I had a long day ahead of me before anyone else was expected to arrive. One of the liberties of working from home, I’d learned, was the liberty of choosing a lounge-worthy outfit, even on a Sunday.
    I had a few specific things in mind that I wanted to accomplish that day, and I thought about each one of them as I put on a pot of coffee. But, as soon as I made my mug, got my laptop, and sat down at the kitchen table, all those thoughts kind of faded away and converged into one… Tommy.
    The night before, when Tommy had been ready, willing, and able in my apartment, I couldn’t get J.R. out of mind, and, now that Tommy wasn’t there anymore, I couldn’t get him out of my mind. All told, it made me feel a little foolish. There I was obsessed with two guys, and I didn’t even have the courage to go after—I mean really go after—anything with either one of them. In their own special ways, they each reduced Trish to being Patty.
    I decided to take another gander at Tommy’s social media profiles—not for research purposes, but for personal ones. I guess I wanted to torture myself by looking at pictures of the stud I could have had the night before. I knew well enough that Tommy would be able to tell I was checking up on him, and I didn’t care—really, wasn’t that to be expected at this point?
    I’d made it through about three pages of Tommy’s “Mobile Uploads” photos when, unexpectedly, there was a knock at my door. It wasn’t even noon yet, and, like I said, I didn’t think anyone was gonna come calling for several hours.
    I stood up and brushed my nighty down a little, trying to cover myself up as completely as I could, and I made my way to the door. I still didn’t know who it would be, though I had a few good ideas as to who it could be.
    “I need to talk to you,” J.R. said the moment I opened the door. He walked right in, without waiting for me to invite him.
    “I thought you weren’t coming here until later,” I said, shutting the door behind him, increasingly aware of my scant attire.
    “I wasn’t going to,” J.R. said, trying not to look at me. “But I’ve been thinking about things, and I had to come here early… There are some things we need