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Damn, it was late last night when Tiff said goodnight and we finally got in bed for the night. Or the morning… fuck knows what time it is.
I turn my head to find the Adonis propped up on an elbow, watching me. The butterflies start up the very second my eyes meet his. They pull me in and eat me up, sending my emotions spinning out of control. This is another kind of morning after syndrome entirely. No escape in sight.
Connor always took the piss out of my sleeping habits, and I feel my cheeks burning up.
“Have I been snoring and dribbling all over your lovely purple pillows?”
“You aren’t a snorer. You do a sweet little whistle with a flutter of lashes, actually. Like this.”
I laugh out loud when he lolls his head back and gives me an impression. He pulls me close as I’m still laughing, and the bulk of him feels electric against my skin.
“You’re a sleeping beauty for real, somno acting or not,” he says, and my arms are around him in seconds, my lips on his as he manoeuvres himself on top of me. And here we are again, flesh against flesh, limbs tangling as the chemistry takes over, right from the off. I spread my legs and grab his ass, wanting his pierced beast of a cock all the way inside me.
But he shakes his head, and gives me another kiss, then a smile.
“Steady on, baby. Believe me, I’d love nothing more than to pound your pussy right now, but we’re already well into the afternoon. We have to grab the stuff from your place and get back over here. I’ve got a proposal to get suited and booted for.” He grins. “And you’re being overly ambitious, have you seen the state of your ass this morning?”
I grimace as I clench, and I have to laugh.
“Is it that bad?”
“I’d say you want to rest up a bit, yeah.”
“Damnit.”
“How about I get us a coffee? Then we can dash across the city and pack you a suitcase.”
I run my fingers down his stomach muscles.
“There’s really no need. Seriously. I can go on my own, or go tomorrow. No big deal. I’ll borrow one of your hoodies or something. I’ll survive.”
He shakes his head, his eyes so full of adoration that it makes my heart race.
“I don’t want you to go on your own, or go tomorrow, even though you’ll look better in my hoodies than I do.” He smiles, before his expression turns serious. “The sooner we get your stuff here the better. Then we can get holed up, settled in cosy. Work, rest and play.”
Oh, the thought of getting holed up with Josh on all levels.
“Sounds like heaven,” I say. “Let’s do it.”
If Josh is surprised by the dilapidated mass of houses on the way to my place, he doesn’t show it. He’s totally chilled as we walk along, looking up at the shitty curtains in people’s grimy windows quite happily.
We’ll be cutting it fine, time wise, since we’ve taken the tube and grabbed some food on the way, but he doesn’t usher me along or try to rush me. The rush is all on me. I want in and out of this shithole as quickly as possible. Just one small case to last until Wednesday and we can bail back out again.
“Almost there,” I say and point to the end of the road. “That’s me, the terrace off to the right.”
“I used to visit a place around the corner,” he tells me. “A regular booking. Once a week for quite some time.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. A client used to rent a room specifically for play time. She liked it in squalor. Said it made her feel dirtier. She didn’t change the sheets in months, not for a single booking. Believe me, there would have been a few of them as well. I wasn’t her only entertainer. She said variety was the spice of slut.”
I try to imagine Josh here, fucking another woman in a room like mine. Squalor.
“What was she like?”
“A nice, blonde woman in her fifties, going through a divorce. She hadn’t fucked her husband in years. Hadn’t fucked anyone in years, actually. She was taking it wild. Working through every fantasy she’d ever had.”
I contemplate leaving it at that, but I’m just too curious.
