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...but it’s over in a few long moments, and I feel him stroking my sides lovingly, planting a kiss on my glistening forehead as I blink the haze of lust away.

“Oh my god,” I gasp, putting a hand up on his chest, and it’s only then that I realize just how hard his body is, and he smiles as he watches me run my hand up and down his washboard abs and rippling chest muscles. “Jack, that was…”

“How’s your back?” he asks, a little concern in his voice as he nods at the hard brick wall behind me.

“Oh, uh...it’s fine,” I lie, feeling the tingling of pain only now, but it was so worth it. “You were holding me against it. Jack, I-” I stop myself before saying I’ve never felt that good in my life, but I know he can read it on my face.

I can’t be that open with him — I might have just gotten fucked by Jack Delaney, but I’m just another groupie. I’m sure he does this all over the world. I mean, I’m still lucky as hell to have gotten this, to have felt his seed inside me, a little running out as he pulls himself from me and we make ourselves ‘decent’ again. But I can’t pretend this is more than that, right?

But he leans in and kisses me again as he hears his name being called from the main area of the party, and he whispers into my ear, giving my breast a light squeeze as he holds me to him one more time.

“There’s a second performance tomorrow, on the down-low. Down by the docks, 9PM, wharf seven. I’ll see you there.”

He leaves me standing there, gone in a flash, and I’m left with his simple yet firm command, staring after him, wondering if I’d just had a strange, blissful fever dream.

Jack Delaney, the biggest rock star in the city, just came inside me. And he wants to see me again tomorrow.

“Okay, so, New Year’s resolutions: go,” Casey says as we walk through the little cobblestone street, perusing the rows upon rows of some of the most scandalous stores I’ve ever seen.

It’s been a sightseeing day for us. We started at the Van Gogh museum, and it was almost as exciting for the both of us as last night was for me. For someone like me who’s spent her whole l

ife admiring art, this place is the epicenter of everything I’ve learned so much about.

It was an amazing morning that I’ll never forget, but now, it’s time for something more tangibly exciting. We’ve been strolling through the Haarlemmerdijk, a district full of vintage second-hand shops, collectibles, and even some weird local street foods I don’t know the names of. It’s like some kind of exotic bazaar for the kind of people who, well, major in Art and hang out at grunge dive bars. The city knows its clientele pretty well.

“I don’t know,” I say, running my thumb up and down the strap of my purse as we walk, my eyes looking at the lingerie stores on the right. “See more of the world,” I finally say a little uncertainly. “Maybe fall in love? I don’t know.” I rush the last part of the sentence, and Casey doesn’t fail to notice.

“Shit, girl, I was gonna say ‘cut back on caffeine’ or something, and that’s a stretch for me!” We laugh, and in a few more steps, Casey draws my attention to one of the particularly scandalous-looking shops. “What’s gotten into you all of the sudden, I never knew you to be someone thinking about shit like love.”

I blush and try to fall behind just enough to hide it from Casey, but she doesn’t miss it. In fact, she grins wickedly. “You met someone last night!”

“Well, I mean, kind of met…” I start, but Casey is flapping her hands.

“No no no, that’s amazing, I did too, but I didn’t want to tell you in case you had a lousy night.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Okay now don’t leave me hanging,” she insists, “what was he like? Did you...you know, fuck?”

“Casey!”

“Well?”

“...y-yeah, we did,” I say, unable to hide my smile. God, I’m such a dork. Casey practically jumps up and down in excitement, though.

“What’s his name?”

I look up at her with a hesitant expression. She’s not gonna believe me. “Uh...Jack. Jack Delaney.”

Casey freezes in her steps. “...you’re shitting me.”

I laugh, “I promise! I mean, I don’t have his shirt to prove it, but…”

“Oh my god, that makes sense! He was missing from the afterparty and I heard someone saw him leaving in front of some foreigner and —” Casey actually does jump up and down this time. “Jess! You fucked Jack Delaney!”

“Shhhh!” I say urgently, waving my hand at her under a laugh. “God, Casey!”

“Oh hell no,” she says, grabbing my wrist. “If you’re gonna talk about falling in love this year then drop that bomb on me, then you’ve gotta look the part, girl.”

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