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Do you? Really? Do you think of me?
“And yours, Jason? How is your week? Trucks trucking on schedule?”
He sighed.“I’ve had better weeks.”
“Tell me about it,” I groaned. “My friend Chelsea caused a whirlwind of drama last weekend. I’m just waiting for the fallout. She’s brought it all on herself. Friends, eh? What can you do?”
The tone in his voice was strangely demanding.“What happened?”
“At the club we went to, Kings, she tried it on with a footballer and got blown out. Someone snapped a photo of her jumping on him, and she got herself a stupid tabloid deal. Made up a load of shit that isn’t true. It’ll come back to bite her on her pretty little ass.”
“Jason Redfern, I’ve seen it. Will she take it back? Save herself the grief?”
“No chance. Thinks it’s her break. She’s always been a selfish cow. The guy’s married, famous but married. I’m sure his shit smells the same as the rest of us. Must have really fucked things up for him, it’s all over the news.” I groaned. “She’s wanted to be famous for as long as I can remember, and her latest fad is the footballer’s wife shit. Don’t think she’s going the best way about it.”
“How about you, Gemma? Don’t you fancy being a footballer’s wife?”
I laughed aloud. “Fuck no. Can’t think of anything worse. Cameras in your face 24/7, all of your business all over the TV. Being famous would be my worst nightmare, I’d rather stay unknown, my own private kind of weird.”
“I imagine it would be challenging.”
“Horrible, you mean. Anyway, I think I’m safe on that front. You should have seen the women in that club, I don’t think I have the makings of a celebrity wife, somehow. Not even if some drunk Singer lad groped my ass.”
“I don’t want to hear any more of that rubbish. You’re a beautiful, fiery, vivacious woman, Gemma. And you have a fucking gorgeous pussy.”His voice was low, gravelly. Hot.“Is my dirty girl ready for round two?”
“Will you be there this time?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
His words gave me tingles. “When?”
“Tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at eight. Wait for me in the entrance, blindfolded.”
***
Chapter Fourteen
Gemma
I dressed to impress. Not Chelsea style.Gemmastyle. A soft lace dress which skimmed my curves, deep purple to contrast the bright glow of my hair. I twirled in the mirror on my dainty black heels, and my dress flared out from my waist in floaty ripples. Perfect.
I checked the time as I styled my hair, heart pounding at the realisation Jason must be on his way.
Two men. Two strangers. Two thick cocks to push their way deep inside.
I wanted them. Fuck, how I wanted them.
I thought about it while I applied my mascara — how they’d feel as they shared my pussy. I hoped it would feel as good I imagined, pinned between two hard bodies as they took me however they wanted. Two hard cocks joined together, pushing into me. The very thought had my pussy tingling with anticipation. My hand had lifted the hem of my dress and was inside my knickers before I stopped and checked myself. The clock was ticking. I opted for a pale pink lipstick, the natural look, and took one last glance in the mirror before I put my coat on and made my way downstairs.
I thumbed the blindfold in my pocket as I stood in the darkness with my back to the entrance. Anytime now.
I heard the rumble of a vehicle turn onto our parking area. My heart stuttered. Mouth dry. Stomach fluttering. Nerves. Just nerves.
I slipped the blindfold on.
The engine died right next to me. A horrible flash of panic as the door creaked open behind me, in case it might not be him.
“Time to go, dirty girl.”
