Chapter 20
Twenty
ADDIE
“Blondie, by the bar,” Rachel whispered into my ear.
“Hasn’t stopped staring at my arse. I think he would be the kind to ‘accidentally’ try and put it in the wrong place,” I replied without even looking away from my hand covering the top of my gin and tonic.
Rachel’s face scrunched up, and she shook her head. “No, I meant the other blondie. Not arse guy.” I looked up and turned my head slightly to see which one she was not-so-subtly pointing at. When I clocked him, I scoffed.
“You mean the one who has been checking you out since he got here? Yeah, no thanks.”
Rachel frowned and looked between me and the man in question.
“Really?”
If I ever found myself in possession of a time machine, I would go and save Rachel from herself.
By doing that, I think she would have grown up into a woman who was truly self-confident instead of one who put on the performance of a lifetime every single day.
She was so good at it that even I forgot she was performing, but then there were moments like this.
She was looking at me in near disbelief at the idea that a man would find her even remotely attractive enough to check her out. It broke my heart.
It would never be enough that the only real revenge she got on that fucker was laughing him out of his job.
“Yes, really. Why wouldn’t he? You look fucking hot tonight. My brain short-circuited when you opened the door earlier,” I said. She still didn’t look like she believed me.
“Because you’re the hotter one of the two of us, and if I were him, I would look at you first?” she said, confusion evident in her entire demeanour.
“And yet, Blondie over there is looking at you.” I took a sip of my drink, and my eyes locked with someone on the opposite end of the bar. “I’ve just found my target. Maybe go over there, offer to buy him a drink. See if you can flirt a little.”
“I’m not going to do that. I need to check this guy out for you before you ride off into the night,” Rachel said, although her eyes flicked over to the man with clear interest.
“Rach, I’ll be fine. Just go and talk to that guy and buy him a drink. It’s just a drink. No one said you had to drop down on your knees and choke on his dick.”
Rachel spluttered. “I can’t think of anything worse.”
I could see her point. If I heard my fiancé getting his dick sucked by a wedding guest and begging to blow his load over her tits, the night before my wedding, I wouldn’t go near a blow job again either.
“Just try. If you hate it, you hate it. But maybe it’s finally time to get back on the horse.”
“That would be a very intimidating horse to get back to it with,” Rachel said, although she was smiling now. I took one more look at Blondie. He looked about thirty seconds away from attempting to devour Rachel. Good.
“It’s what you deserve.” I kissed her on the cheek and went to make my approach.
Jonathan (never John or Johnny, not that I’d asked) was sucking on my neck.
We had made it back to my flat, which was weirdly quiet.
I had no idea where Eli was at ten at night, but we hadn’t made it past the living room.
Jonathan had pressed me onto the sofa and then latched onto my neck.
It had started as just light kisses, and then it moved to the sucking.
Which wasn’t doing anything for me because, as erogenous zones went, my neck wasn’t one of them.
His fingers had pulled my top and bra cup down to expose my breast, but that was as far as he’d gone.
The only reason my nipple was hard was because it was hanging out in the cool air of the room.
His hand was now underneath my skirt, my underwear pulled to the side, and his fingers were…
there. Fumbling around but not really doing anything.
I gently took hold of his wrist and tried to direct him while he made quiet mewling sounds into the crook of my neck.
“Could you just—” I tried. His fingers slipped down and then back up. Again, achieving nothing.
I huffed. Jonathan sucked on my neck, and I wondered if it was going to leave a mark. That would be annoying to deal with for a few days while it faded.
And then, I heard a door close.
It could only be one door. The front door.
The suction cup against my neck finally came off. The rush of blood to the surface and the tingling of that turned me on more than anything Jonathan had been doing for the last ten minutes.
“What the fuck?” he said as he looked over my shoulder. “I thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend.”
“I don’t. He’s my flatmate,” I said as I readjusted my underwear and flipped my skirt back down.
“Right, yeah. Just your flatmate,” he scoffed as he stood up and adjusted his bulge. Glad someone had found this whole experience arousing.
“No, really, he is,” I tried. Jonathan shook his head as he walked away from me. I tracked him as he left, his legs eating up the space quickly. I kept my gaze on Jonathan’s retreating back until the door closed behind him. Then I looked at Eli, standing up to face him.
He looked…angry. But his eyes kept darting downwards.
Oh yeah, my boob. I covered it back up.
“Have a good night?” I asked timidly, hoping we could just move straight past this little escapade.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He laughed. It was a harsh, abrupt sound.
I wiped my hands down my skirt. “Well, it didn’t end quite like yours did last night.”
Red bloomed high on Eli’s cheekbones.
“Yeah, I didn’t think about the logistics of him leaving. Sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”
It was my turn to laugh abruptly. “I wasn’t talking about him leaving, Eli. It was more the live audio erotica show you both put on.”
The blush deepened.
“Uh—sorry?”
I shrugged. I hoped it was the perfect image of nonchalance and not a sign of surliness that I was mad that he was out in these streets getting laid by other people. I wasn’t jealous.
That would be stupid. Especially given what he had just walked in on.
“You don’t have anything to apologise for. We’re both adults with needs. You got yours. You probably did me a favour by stopping me from getting mine. He definitely didn’t know where the clit was. Anyway, I am going to go to bed.”
Eli’s mouth opened and closed. I waited a beat to see what he would say, but it ended up being nothing.
I walked past him and into my room.
It was actually too early for bed, but I had made my choice, and it was too embarrassing to slink back out of my bedroom into the living room now.
I was lying on my bed, now wearing an Aragorn T-shirt and shorts, letting my mind wander on what my night could have been if Eli hadn’t come home.
Or if I had picked a better person. If he had moved on from his fascination with bruising my neck (no visible mark so far, which made the whole thing seem even worse) and travelled down my body, he would have yielded much more fruitful results.
Results that might have led to a more satisfying end.
All too quickly, my imagination replaced the body that was suckling my neck with one I was much more familiar with.
Brown hair flecked with grey. The scratch of stubble along my skin as he moved down my chest to my breast, teasing my nipple into a tender peak before he moved to the other side and gave it the same treatment.
I could almost hear the sounds he would make as he dragged his lips across my body, getting lower and lower.
I could imagine my responses to the actions.
I could feel heat pooling low in my core. I squeezed my legs together, which just increased the ache.
An ache that had settled within me around about two a.m. this morning, and despite my efforts, I had not managed to take care of it.
Not the way that I wanted to, anyway.
But there was always plan B.
I reached across the bed and pulled one of the spare pillows to rest next to me before I rolled over and straddled it. The seam of my shorts sat perfectly as I rolled my hips into the pillow and gasped as the pressure hit me just where I wanted it.
I rolled them again, slower this time, sending tingles up my spine. I grounded myself with one hand, clutching the pillow, the other gripping the hem of my T-shirt, fingertips drawing circles on the skin of my upper thigh.
Another roll, and my imagination decided to run wild.
The hardness of my seam became a hard body underneath me, my hips rolling against a pelvis as I got used to the feeling of being full.
The pillow under my hand was a solid chest that I gripped onto to find balance while I got into a rhythm.
The hand on my thigh made a slow trail along the curve of my arse and up my waist before brushing the sensitive skin at the side of my breast. Goose bumps spread across my body as I pinched my nipple between my thumb and forefinger, gently at first, and then harder.
My hips stuttered, and I imagined the husky praise in a familiar voice telling me I was taking him so well.
Another pinch that sent a wave of pleasure through me while my grinding picked up pace.
The voice in my head begged to see me, so I sat up and arched my back, keeping a slow grind of my hips against the pillow.
I pulled the scrunchie off my arm and tossed my braids up into a rough approximation of a bun and then removed my T-shirt.
The coolness of the air in my bedroom made my already taut nipples even tighter.
Almost painful. I made a show of running both my hands up my torso before cupping my breasts in both hands, letting the buds of my nipples peek out between my fingers, squeezing and twisting them while my hips picked up speed.
I released my breasts and fell forward onto my forearms, my nipples rubbing against the duvet beneath me.
My brain substituted the soft cotton for the sharp bite of teeth, into the soothing press of a tongue.
The body I was straddling in my head started driving up into me, harder and faster, my clit receiving the perfect amount of pressure.
My thighs started burning as the roll of my hips sped up, working towards my release.
I could hear frantic moans and desperate pleas for more.
With one final roll of my hips, my muscles started quivering and then tensed up as my orgasm took over my body. I slowed my movements to lazy circles as I collapsed flush onto the bed, letting the aftershocks ripple through me as I kept a gentle pressure on my over-sensitised clit.
Without being aware of it, a second orgasm swept over me, and with it came a sense of contentment that I sat with for a moment.
Then it hit me. What I said when I came the first time.