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“Lost something?” Adrian asks a little too sweetly.
“My phone,” I reply.
“Expecting a call?” he asks. He holds my phone up as he smiles at Ben.
“Fuck off!” I snatch the phone off him and storm back down to the other end of the plane. I fall into the seat and rest my arm on the window base. This is a fucking nightmare, a total fucking nightmare. Last night was supposed to bring closure; instead I feel sick to my stomach. My mind flicks back to when I woke up next to her, and I put the heel of my hands into my eye sockets. What the fuck was that about. I fucking had sex with her while she was asleep. I’ve hit a new low. I close my eyes, the memory so vivid it is forever burned into my brain. I woke up to the feel of her gentle breath on my shoulder, she was on her back and my arm was draped over her stomach. I leaned up onto my elbow and flicked the lamp on so I could see the time. What I saw instead was the exact vision of the fantasy I’ve been having for seven years. Natasha on her back and all mine. I slowly peeled the blanket back so I could drink in her beauty, absolutely fucking breathless beauty. I remove my hand from her stomach and she gently groans and moves her hand around looking for me, then she relaxes as she finds my chest. Instantly my cock twitches. I slowly bend to kiss her breast and instead find her erect nipple in my mouth—so fucking perfect. She groans and her legs fall open, inviting me in. My breath starts to quiver as I slowly run my fingers from her throat down over both her breasts down her stomach and down to her beautiful tight cunt. She groans again and opens her legs further apart. I don’t believe this. She’s asleep and her body is responding to me. This is every fucking wet dream I’ve ever had. I wonder if I can feel my semen inside her. I slowly sink in one finger. She groans and spreads her legs again further apart. Her body starts to ripple around my finger—holy fuck this woman is hot. I add another finger and then another and her body starts to slowly pump my fingers, begging for more. This is unbearable. Sweat is beading over my body. I don’t think I’ve ever been so aroused in my life. Her body starts to gently ride my fingers and her soft sighs are going straight to my cock. Just the thought of watching her body orgasm as she sleeps is fucking with my head BIG TIME. Every muscle in my body is aching to be inside her, screaming at me in a deafening sound. Her legs fall to the mattress and she moans, her body wanting more. Her tight channel ripples around me and I groan as I put my head into my pillow trying to control myself. Willing myself to stop. Then her words from earlier come back to haunt me. Do what you want with my body, Joshua. It’s yours, remember. It’s those words that tip me over the edge and I slowly raise above her. Being as gentle as I can so as not to wake her I ease myself in slowly. The excess semen makes my entry easy. Her body instantly responds and I hold myself still. My god, this is too good to be true—she just feels too good. My arms shake as they struggle to hold my weight. I don’t move and instantly her body starts to contract around me, milking me and silently begging for my come. Her breathing is laboured and she moans a deep sound, one that I haven’t heard her make before, and the tingles in my balls force me to start to slowly move. With five gentle pumps she sighs and falls spectacularly into the most beautiful orgasm I have ever witnessed and I gently follow, knowing that I am thoroughly and utterly forever ruined.
Shit, I’m aroused again at just the memory of her… and her beautiful fuckable body. I rub my temples—talk about a total mind–fuck. Cabin crew prepare for descent. I look at my phone again—7.10 am. She’d be awake by now and she would be spitting nails.
We sit in the limo en route to the hospital and I check my phone for the hundredth time this morning. She hasn’t rung—she’s definitely pissed. I’ve fucking blown it. It’s probably for the best as I can’t have her anyway. What was I thinking? I rub my forehead. I’ve had enough of this day already and its 7.00 o clock in the morning. My phone beeps a text and I scramble to check if it’s her. Adrian and Ben laugh and my eyes snap up to them.
“Expecting a call?” Adrian smiles as he deletes the text he’s just sent me.
“Just fuck off Adrian. I’m not in the damn mood,” I snap. “Adrian, I want you to do the presentation this morning,” I sigh as I adjust my cufflinks and stare out the window. “I’m not up for it.” He doesn’t answer. The silence is stifling and I look up to see what they are doing.
“Josh, this is a twenty–two million dollar deal, you can’t not do this. What the hell is going on with you?”
“Nothing I just haven’t slept and I’m…off.”
“Just ring her if it’s that important.”
“Her name is Natasha, and this has nothing to do with her.”
“Josh, you better get your shit together or two years of work is going down the gurgler, I mean it. Snap the fuck out of it.” I rub my forehead and put my head back into the head rest.
This day just gets better and better.
3.00 pm—the meeting went well and we are having a late lunch in a bar. The techs have got on their commercial flight back to Sydney. Ben, Adrian and I are staying in Melbourne overnight so I can see my parents, although I would rather be alone. Not in the mood for socializing… or living for that matter. I order another Cointreau and ice—it seems the only thing that I can stomach today. I’m so tired. No wonder I feel like shit, I hardly slept on Saturday night after the fight and then last night was a write off. Ben and Adrian are talking nonstop about Sydney versus Melbourne restaurants. I smile at the notion they consider themselves foodies. All I want to do is go to a hotel and take a sleeping tablet, knock myself out for the rest of this shitty day. But I have to go to my parents for dinner. Why do I make these stupid arrangements? It seemed like a good idea at the time. My phone beeps a text:
I’m sore baby.
I immediately smile. It’s her. I reply:
Mission accomplished
I leave it for a second and then text back:
And for the record so am I.
I smile again, picturing her reading my text. I look up to find Adrian and Ben silent and utterly shocked in their seats.
“What?” I smirk.
“Are you kidding?” Adrian snaps. “You’ve been a total ass all day and one text from Cinderella and you are smiling like an idiot.”
“Shut up. I am not.” But it’s true. I am smiling like an idiot.
“I don’t believe it.” Ben shakes his head. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve done your nuts over this girl,” he tuts.
“I have not… done my nuts over this girl.” I roll my eyes.
“Joshua Stanton, the biggest lady prick in all of America, has been freaking out all day waiting for Cinderella to text him, un–fucking believable.”
I smile as I read his text. I bet you’re sore, big boy, if my vagina is any indication. So he is speaking to me. I am in my office between patients, sitting at my desk drinking coffee. I have been over – analysing him and this situation all day. I was ropeable this morning when I woke and he was gone—coward. But then I realised he was probably freaked out and I needed to give him space to adjust to this situation, whatever the hell this situation is. I am just as confused as he is. A large lead ball has sat in
