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Legs wrapped around my waist. Hips pumping as she bounced on my cock. Hair tumbling down her back, my fingers twisted in it. Full mouth parted, panting out her pleasure as her tits bounced before my eyes.
My balls tightened and heat shot down my spine. My palm hit the wall and my teeth gritted. Fuck. Me. That was embarrassingly fast.
Sighing, I straightened and reached for the shampoo. It wasn’t what I’d intended, but it was harmless. The only problem—I was still hard. Frowning, I washed and tried to ignore the pressure downstairs as I dried. By the time I had my suit on and my hair slicked back, it had calmed down enough I could take myself downstairs and have a business meeting.
That was a relief. Having to explain to Lucien that I’d missed a meeting because I couldn’t get my dick to calm down wasn’t on my list of preferred pastimes.
I swiped my phone one more time. It was almost five and I needed to meet with the target and get my work done.
Then, it was time to play.
CHAPTER TWO
IRIS
It was my first time going on a trip alone outside the city.
My father had argued with me for weeks, but my mother had stood her ground and urged me to go. I was twenty-one, she reasoned with my father, old enough that going to a gated resort in a wealthy city would be safe.
That had made me feel guilty because I hadn’t told her the truth about what I was really doing in Miami. She was under the impression this was a church related retreat, not a brand sponsored trip.
If she knew I’d spent the last few days in a bikini on the beach, she’d be livid. And if she’d known I was paying for it by modeling and creating sponsored content for a lingerie company as well as the resort, I would be disowned.
My parents were strict, but inattentive. It was easy for me to hide my social media accounts and brand trips from them. My mother spent her time distracted at church and the country club with her friends. My father was a bookkeeper for the Italian-American mafia outfit. He stayed out of the spotlight on purpose. He didn’t like the morals of his peers and he justified his involvement by keeping to pushing papers.
My parents were very Catholic, not the kind that the upper classes of the outfit were. Those were all cultural Catholics who went to mass on Easter and Christmas with a long list of unconfessed sins stamped on their souls. They liked the traditions, but not the beliefs.
My parents really believed it. I followed the rules more out of fear than anything, but there was always a little bit of rebellion in me that I couldn’t squash.
It was that rebellion that had led me to give my first boyfriend a blowjob in the back of the car outside St. Bede’s Cathedral and then slink inside to confess what I’d done. It was fine, I told myself again and again. But the guilt was too overwhelming to risk doing it more than once.
At least I hadn’t done anything really bad, like losing my virginity to him. I’d just sucked him off and that wasn’t really sex…right?
I asked my cousin and she said it wasn’t.
It was the same reasoning I used to justify the way I’d obtained my large social media presence. My parents didn’t know that I had an Instagram account with over two million followers and they definitely didn’t know that it was full of provocative pictures of myself. None of them were nudes. They were just sexy, so it wasn’t like I was doing anything really wrong.
It was therapeutic. It let me explore my sexuality—without committing what my parents had taught me was a mortal sin—and having actual sex.
I’d spent my entire life finding loopholes, I was very good at it by age twenty-one.
Tonight, the resort was crowded. I put on a teal dress with a draping front and a short skirt and headed down to the dining room closest to my room. My heels clicked and my matching purse caught the light as I stepped up to the hostess’s stand.
“Just one?” the tall woman asked, glancing up.
“Yep, just me,” I said, offering a smile.
“Oh, you’re the brand influencer, aren’t you?” she said, pulling out a menu. “They said they were having you as a guest this week. Has everything been good for you?”
I followed her towards a booth in the back. “It’s been amazing. This is one of the nicest places I’ve ever stayed.”
“That’s great,” she said, setting my menu down and stepping back. “Can I start you off with anything to drink?”
I slid into the booth, adjusting my short skirt so it didn’t ride up my thighs, and glanced toward the bar. “Could I get a water and a vodka soda, please?”
“I’ll have your server bring it to you right away.”
I thanked her and she disappeared across the room, leaving me alone once more. Feeling like I needed something to do with my hands while I waited, I pulled out my phone and opened Instagram and began scrolling mindlessly. Flipping past a picture of my closest childhood friend, Zita, looking conservative in a blouse and long skirt. My finger hovered over the like button for a moment before I pulled it back.
