Page 79 of Out of Control

My phone is filled with texts from friends here in town. Ones who have asked that I go out with them tonight. Party with them. Fuck around and see where the night takes us.

Is it pathetic that I don’t respond to many and, if I do, I make excuses that I have an early morning with sponsors? I mean, I am having a meeting tomorrow but not early enough to have to worry about.

Nothing used to stop me from a night on the town.

But now . . . now I want to spend my time with Sofia. The fun times. The quiet times. All of them. And I’m not quite sure what that says about me. All I know is her not wanting to come with me was like a punch in the gut. A bitter pill of rejection. A dose of maybe she’s not feeling the same fucking way as I am.

Maybe that’s why I’m in a surly mood. Maybe that’s why I don’t want to go out.

And maybe that’s why she hasn’t answered any of my texts or calls.

The knock on the door is unwelcome. It’s already gotten out that I’m in the hotel. This will be the fourth time tonight a “lost” fan accidentally finds my door.

I’m tempted to not answer it—normally I wouldn’t—but for some reason, I decide to.

And thank fucking God I do.

I swing open the door to find Sofia standing there. She’s in a trench coat and heels, a designer carry-on in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other, and a grin a mile wide.

“Hi. What are you . . .” I take a step back, my eyes sweeping over the length of her body. Those tanned legs. Her hair slicked back in a no-nonsense bun. Her lips painted a dark red.

“I never meant to say no to you. About this. About being here. I just have trouble learning how to say yes when it comes to things I want. When it comes to things that matter.”

“Oh.” Christ. The things this woman does to my head and fuck it, yes, my heart.

“This matters.” She steps into the room and shuts the door at her back. She sets down the items in her hands efficiently before slowly untying the belt on the coat and letting it slide slowly off her shoulders and to a pile on the floor.

But I don’t give a flying fuck about the coat or anything else because Sofia is standing in front of me in a dark red lace bustier with garter belts and no panties underneath.

Lord, have mercy.

“You matter,” she murmurs and steps into me, her lips finding mine without hesitation.

“Sofia.” She came.

“No. Don’t talk, Ollie. Just feel. Just let me make you feel good.”

She drops to her knees, and I look down at her just as she makes quick work of my pants, freeing my cock at an expeditious pace.

Her grin is wickedly sexy as she reaches out and pulls out a bag of Peach Rings.

“You’re fucking serious?” I ask. I’m not huge but I’m above average in girth. Can that fucker stretch wide enough for me?

“What do you think?” she asks as she pulls on the candy with her fingers before placing it over the tip of my cock.

Yes, it can stretch wide enough. Wow.

She licks around the rim and the strip of candy.

I groan at the strange sensation of the pseudo cock ring. It’s constricting, adding to the building pressure I have within. Her fingers slowly working it up to the base of my shaft only heightens my sensitivity and anticipation.

“There.” She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip as she angles her head to the side and admires her work. “Now let’s see if I can get enough of you in my mouth to taste it.”

The thought of her being able to take that much of me has my cock jerking and my nipples tightening.

“Sofia,” I murmur, my hand beneath her chin.

“This. Matters,” she murmurs, seconds before she takes my tip between her red lips. Jesus. My hips jerk involuntarily as I watch it disappear inch by fucking hard inch into her mouth.