Elizabeth - Page 50

“Breakfast is ready whenever you want it,” I said.

I turned and made my way for the food that had me salivating. At least, I blamed it on the food. I wasn’t willing to navigate any other territory with something like that.

I tried to look pleased as Elizabeth joined me for breakfast, but I wasn’t. I didn’t know why I wasn’t pleased, but part of me wanted her to fight me on the professionalism of it all. She had no issues speaking her mind over our romantic dinner. She had no issues bucking up to me in the car ride home last night. Why wasn’t she arguing now? Maybe that wasn’t disappointment I saw rolling over her face. Maybe I had simply seen what I wanted to in order to fuel my own desires.

But admitting that didn’t make my unhappiness at the situation disappear.

“Oh my gosh, this is so good.”

I looked over at Elizabeth and saw her wrapping her lips around another piece of melon.

“Once you get to it, the smoked bacon on a semmeln roll with a bit of cream cheese to hold it all together is incredible.”

“And I bet if I add some pepper jack to it...”

I watched her nimble fingers piece together the roll in front of my eyes. She split it in half, doused both sides with cream cheese, placed three strips of smoked bacon along with pepper jack cheese in the middle, then went to eat it like a sandwich. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she slipped down her chair, exposing her long legs to me as her robe caught on the edge. It rode up her knee. Up her thigh. Up so dangerously close to that tight pussy of hers I fumbled with my coffee mug. She swallowed her bite as I set the cup down, trying to regain my composure.

“So. Damn. Good,” Elizabeth said.

And the small moan she added at the end forced my cock to leak against my boxers.

Holy hell, it was going to be a long rest of the week.

Chapter 22

Elizabeth

Just as I expected, Phillip locked himself in his room after breakfast to take a conference call. Did that man never not work? I sat there with my leg crossed over my knee, finishing up the mimosa I had made for us both. His apology was appreciated but was a little bit half-assed in my opinion. I could tell he still didn’t believe that Sam had come on to me all those times. He framed it as “conducting business,” but he was still writing off Sam’s actions as if I had somehow solicited them.

Part of me was glad he had a conference call to attend to.

I ventured back into my room to get myself ready for a day out in Vienna. But what I really wanted to do was go ride more horses. I was still riled up from the night before from the things he’d said in the car and the way they so coolly rolled off his tongue. Like I was nothing more than a sex toy without feelings. I pulled on a pair of jeans and the loosest top I had, then bundled my hair into a bun on the top of my head. I heard Phillip’s voice trailing from behind his bedroom door as I walked out of our room, my mind keen on the task ahead.

I was going to spend the day among the horses of Vienna.

There was a large stable in the middle of the city, and with each stroke of the tires against the pavement, I became more excited. The worries of my job and of Phillip quickly receded, and the minute we pulled into the driveway, I shooed the car off. I wanted to spend the entire day there. I didn’t care if I only mucked stalls and fed the horses. I simply wanted to be around the animals that gave me the most release when it came to stress.

I walked into the stable and found the owner of it. I told him I was interested in riding but also helping him out with some daily chores. He looked at me as if I had lost my mind but was thankful for the help. Apparently, one of the stable hands had called out of work that day, so he was short-staffed. He gave me a brush and a pick and sent me to the end of the aisle, and I began brushing down and cleaning up the hooves of my first horse.

Slowly, I made my way down the barn aisle. The horses were beautiful, and I felt myself instantly relax into the routine. When I was a little girl, my favorite thing was to help my father with the horses in our barn. I wanted to clean them down and help him with washing them. I wanted to watch as the stable hands changed out their iron shoes on their hooves. They were some of the best times of my childhood, but the memories of my father weren’t what flooded my mind.

Source: www.NovelCorner.com