I tut, but I secretly love it. ‘So crude.’
He whips out the vibrator and sucks it clean. Before I can arrange my thoughts, his tongue wastes no time taking its place.
‘Your pussy isfine, girl.’ I can feel his hot breath against my folds. ‘Rogers doesn’t know what he’s missing. Poor guy.’
‘Do you have to bring him up now?’ I squawk as two fingers fill me.
His response is to add the vibrator back on my swollen clit as his fingers ravage me. I’m not shy about telling a man what I want but I don’t need to. He knowsexactlywhat he’s doing.
I grind my wet centre against his sweet, sweet pressure, and it’s seconds before I’m hurtling towards the next precipice. My thighs are trembling uncontrollably. I’m a needy mess, whimpering pleas ofright thereanddon’t stopandTiago, pleaseover and over.
I cry out as I fall apart. He doesn’t relent, dragging out every last aftershock until I’m heaving myself away from him because my body can’t take an ounce more pleasure.
When I’m strong enough to look up, the wicked grin I see makes my quaking limbs ache. ‘I don’t know where you think you’re going, sweetheart. I’m not done with you yet.’
Chapter 21
TIAGO
Ican’t believe I slept with Jules.
I can’t believe I slept with Julesfour times.
Actually, I can. I was a goner the moment she went to get that box – my new favourite box.
What does this mean for the contract? She’ll still help me, right? The initiating kiss was mutual, if I remember correctly. I didn’t make her get the box. And you can’t get one of those out in front of a guy – not to mention a highly sensitive guy who hasn’t had sex in alifetime– and expect it not to be used.
Even if it jeopardises our alliance, it was worth it. I’d do it ten times over. Girl’s gotseriousskills. I nearly cried when she lay down and opened her mouth. I had to recite all the American presidents to help me hold it together, and squeeze my shaft so hard I got a headache. I’ve never drilled a chick’s mouth upside down on a first night. I thought I was going to die.
And hernoises– gasping, sighing, moaning. I thought I needed wanton screaming, whimpered‘Papi’, but whatever Jules did topped it. I’ve never been so turned on in my life. It took superhuman strength not to come in thirty seconds.
It might’ve had something to do with being a monk for 118 days, but I wholeheartedly believe it had more to do with thatbody. She’s missing the curves I’m used to, and her ass is firm and round instead of jiggling with every step, but I didn’t miss any of it. She takes care of her shit. And they’re the best implants I’ve ever seen. They’re like damn pillows. I want to get lost in there and never come out.
And to see her so unrestrained? Thank Christ she’s not like that all the time.
Hold up, what does this mean for going cold turkey?
I was doing so well. This was the first race weekend I wasn’tthis closeto unarchiving certain Whatsapp chats. What’s stopping me returning to old patterns and damaging my reputation even more? I’ve told everyone I’ve changed, and in a lot of ways, I have. If I start sleeping around again, my siblings were right, the critics were right, Volare was right.
It’s not like I’m a junkie. One lapse doesn’t make me that guy again. There was no flirtation, no pursuit, no conquest, and that didn’t feel like just any one-night stand. I don’t know what the hell it was, but I do know it was the exception.
I head to the bathroom after Jules, perusing Spotify on my phone while I piss. ‘We Rock’ rings out in all its tinny glory. I wash my hands and dance my way back to my confused bedfellow. Her hair’s a knotted mess and my balls stir knowing I did that to her.
That I could do it again.
‘What are you doing?’ She wearily sits up, laying her phone on the bed. It’s open on her home screen and I glimpse dozens of tracking apps – sleep, nutrition, hydration, running, even injury. Am I surprised? Actually no.
‘This is a stone-cold classic,’ I say. ‘What’s that good one fromThe Cheetah Girls?’
She looks dumbfounded. ‘You jizzed in my mouth five minutes ago. How can you now be talking aboutThe Cheetah Girls?’
‘I’m a man of many flavours.’ I scroll through their discography. ‘C’mon, Butler, focus. Which one is it?’
She picks sleep out of her eye. ‘Try ‘The Party’s Just Begun’.’
I play it and she’s right: it slaps hard. ‘Yesssss. Dance with me, Julie B.’
‘No, you’re naked,’ she says, but she’s laughing. She doesn’t laugh enough. It’s a very pretty sound.
